Surfeit of Lampreys (31 page)

“It's a trap,” said Colin slowly. “I'm not going. You'll damn well take my statement, whether you like it or not.”

“We're not allowed to set traps, I promise you, I should be setting a trap if I pretended not to know which of you worked the lift and so encouraged you to carry on with your comedy of errors.”

“Do p-pipe down, Colin,” said Stephen rapidly. “It's no go. I didn't want you to do it. Mr. Alleyn, you're quite right. I didn't kill Uncle G. but, on my word of honour, I t-took him down in the lift and Colin stayed in the drawing-room. Don't commit any more p-perjury, Col, for God's sake, just go b-buzz off.”

The twins, white to the lips, stared at each other. It so chanced that each of them reflected the other's pose to the very slant of their narrow heads. The impression made by identical twins is always startling to strangers. It is accompanied by a sensation of shifted focus. It seems to us that the physical resemblance must be an outward sign of mental unity. It is easy to believe that twins are aware of each other's thoughts, difficult to imagine them in dissonance; and Alleyn wondered if these twins were in agreement when Colin suddenly said: “Let me stay here while you talk to Stephen, please. I'm sorry I was objectionable. I'd like to stay.”

Alleyn did not answer and Colin added: “I won't butt in. I'd just be here, that's all.”

“He knows everything about it,” Stephen said. “I t-told him.”

“If he first tells us what he did while you were in the lift,” said Alleyn, “he may stay.”

“Please do, Col,” said Stephen. “You'll only make me look every kind of bloody skunk if you d-don't.”

“All right,” said Colin, slowly. “I'll explain.”

“That's excellent,” said Alleyn. “Suppose you both sit down.”

They sat on opposite sides of the table, facing each other.

“I'd rather explain first of all,” Colin began, “that it's not a new sort of stunt, our joining with the same story. It's a kind of arrangement we've always had. When we were kids we fixed it up between us. I daresay it sounds pretty feeble-minded and sort of ‘ “I did it, sir!” said little Eric,' but it doesn't strike us like that. It's just an arrangement. Not over everything but when there's a really major row brewing. It doesn't mean that I think Stephen bumped off Uncle G. I know he didn't. He told me he didn't. So I know.”

Colin said this with an air of stolid assurance. Stephen looked at him dully. “Well, I didn't,” he said.

“I know. I was only explaining.”

“Later on,” said Alleyn, “we'll look for something that sounds a little more like police-court evidence. In the meantime, what did you do?”

“Me?” asked Colin. “Oh, I just stayed in the drawing-room with Henry and my father.”

“What did you talk about?”

“I didn't. I looked at a
Punch
.

“Henry said: ‘Have they gone?' and my father said ‘Yes,' and Henry said ‘Three rousing cheers.' I don't think anybody said anything else until Aunt V. started yelling, and then Henry said; ‘Is that a fire engine or do they ring bells?' and my father said ‘It's a woman,' and Henry said: ‘How revolting!' and my father said: ‘It's coming from the lift,' and Henry said: ‘Then it must be Aunt V. and she's coming back.' It had got a good deal nearer by then. I think Henry said ‘How revolting!' again and then my father said; ‘Something has happened,' and went out of the room. Henry said: ‘She's gone completely crackers, it seems. Come on.' So he went out. My mother and Frid and, I think, Patch, were on the landing and the lift was up. Stephen opened the doors and came out. He held the doors back. Aunt V. came screeching out. The rest of it's rather a muddle and I daresay you've heard it already.”

“I should like to know when your brother decided to take up the option on your agreement.”

“I didn't want—” Stephen began.

“Shut up,” said Colin. “While they were all fussing round and ringing up doctors and policemen Stephen said: ‘I'm going to be sick,' so I went with him and he was. And then we went to my room and he told me all about it. And I said that if anything cropped up like you, and so on, the arrangement would be good. Stephen said he didn't want me to crash in on the party but I did, of course, as you know. That's all.”

“Thank you,” said Alleyn. Colin lit a cigarette.

“I suppose I say what happened in the lift,” said Stephen.

“If you will,” Alleyn agreed. “From the time Lady Charles came to the drawing-room.”

Stephen played a little tattoo with his fingers on the table. His movements as well as his speech, Alleyn noticed were much more staccato than his twin's. Colin had spoken with a deliberation so marked as to seem studied. He had looked placidly at Alleyn through his light eyelashes. Stephen spoke in spurts; his stutter became increasingly marked; he kept glancing at Alleyn and away again. Fox's notes seemed to disturb him.

“My mother,” Stephen said, “asked for someone t-to work the lift. So I went out.”

“To the lift?”

“Yes.”

“Who was in the lift?”

“He was. Sitting there.”

“With the doors shut?”

“Yes.”

“Who opened them?”

“I did. Aunt V. was sort of hovering about on the landing. When I opened the d-doors she tacked over and floated in.”

“And then? Did you follow at once?”

“Well, I stopped long enough to wink at my mother and then I got in and s-simply t-took the lift down—”

“Just a moment. What were Lord and Lady Wutherwood's positions in the lift?”

“He was sitting in the corner. His hat was on and his scarf pulled up and his c-coat collar turned up. I—th-thought he was asleep.”

“Asleep? But a minute or so before, he had shouted at the top of his voice.”

“Well, asleep or sulking. As a matter of fact, I rather thought he was s-sulking.”

“Why should he do that?”

“He was a sulky sort of man. Aunt V. had kept him waiting.”

“Did you notice his hat?”

“It was a poisonous hat.”

“Anything in particular about it?”

“Only that it looked as if it belonged to a bum. As a matter of fact I couldn't see him very well. Aunt V.—Violet stood b-between us and the light wasn't on.”

“Was she facing him?”

“N-no. Facing the doors.”

“Right. And then?”

“Well, I p-pushed the button and we went down.”

“What happened next?”

“When we'd got about half-way d-down, she started screaming. I hadn't looked at either of those two. I just heard the scream and jumped like hell and sort of automatically shoved down the stop button. So we stopped. We were nearly down. Just below the first floor.”

“Yes?”

“Well, of course, I turned round. I didn't see Uncle G. She was between us, with her b-back to me, yelling in a disgusting sort of way. It was b-beastly. As sudden as a train whistle. I've always hated t-train whistles. She moved away a bit and I looked and s-saw him.”

“What did you see?”

“You know what it was.”

“Not exactly. I should like an exact description.”

Stephen moistened his lips and passed his fingers across his face. “Well,” he said, “he was sitting there. I remember now that there was a dent in his hat. She had hold of him and she sort of sh-shook him and he s-sort of t-tipped forward. His head was between his knees and his hat fell off. Then she pulled him up. And then I s-saw.”

“What did you see? I'm sorry,” said Alleyn, “but it really is important and Lady Wutherwood's description was not very clear. I want a clear picture.”

“I wish,” said Stephen violently, “that I hadn't got one. I c-can't—Col, tell him I c-can't—it was t-too beastly.”

“Do you know,” said Alleyn, “I think there's something in the theory that it's a mistake to bury a very bad experience. The Ancient Mariner's idea was a sound one. In describing something unpleasant you get rid of part of its unpleasantness.”

“
Unp-pleasant!
My God, the skewer was jutting out of his eye and blood running down his face into his mouth. He made noises like an animal.”

“Was there any other injury to his face?” Alleyn asked.

Stephen put his face in his hands. His voice was muffled. “Yes. The side of his head. Something. I saw that when—I saw it!” His fingers moved to his own temple. “There.”

“Yes. What did you do?”

“I had my hand near the thing—the switchboard—you kn-know. I must have p-pushed the top b-button. I don't think I did it on purpose. I d-don't know. We went up. She was screaming. When I opened the d-doors she sort of fell out. That's all.” Stephen gripped the edge of the table and for the first time looked steadily at Alleyn. “I'm sorry I'm not clearer,” he said. “I don't know why I'm like this. I've been all right t-till now. I even sort of wondered why I
was
so all right.”

“Shock,” said Alleyn, “seems to have a period of incubation with some people. Now, as you went down in the lift you faced the switchboard?”

“Yes.”

“All the time?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear any sort of movement behind you?”

“I d-don't remember hearing anything at all. It's not long, is it?”

“It's precisely thirty seconds to the bottom,” said Alleyn. “You don't go all the way. Did you hear any sort of thud?”

“If I did, I don't remember it.”

“All right. To go back a little. While your father interviewed Lord Wutherwood, you were all in here, lying on the carpet in that corner.”

Stephen and Colin exchanged glances. Colin silently framed the word “Patch” with his lips.

“No,” said Alleyn. “Lady Patricia only told us you lay on the floor. She said it was a kind of game. We noticed it took place in that corner where a door has been boarded up. There's a trace of lipstick on the carpet close to the crack under the door and a bit of boot polish farther out. It's difficult to avoid the presumption that your game involved listening to the conversation next door.”

“I say,” said Stephen suddenly, “do you speak French? Yes, I suppose you do. Yes, of course you do.”

“Shut up,” said Colin.

“I haven't been lying on the carpet,” said Alleyn. “And Mr. Fox only stayed there long enough to catch a phrase, spoken. I think, by you. ‘
Taisez-vous, donc.'
”

“He's always saying it,” Stephen muttered gloomily. “In English or in French.”

“And a fat lot of notice you take,” Colin pointed out. “If you'd only—”

“We won't go into that,” said Alleyn. “Now, when this unusual game was ended, and after your brother Michael had come in, you two, with your elder brother, went into the drawing-room, while your sisters went into Flat 26. Did you go together and directly into the drawing-room?”

There was a moment's silence before Colin answered: “Yes. We all went out together. The girls went first.”

“Henry just had a little snoop d-down the passage.”

“In which direction?”

“Towards the hall. He was only a second or two. He came into the d-drawing-room just after we did.”

“And did you all stay in the drawing-room until Lady Charles came?”

“Yes,” said the twins together.

“I see. That pretty well covers the ground. One more question, and I think I may put it to both of you. You'll understand that we wouldn't ask it unless we felt that it was entirely relevant. What impression did you get of Lady Wutherwood during the afternoon?”

“Mad,” said the twins together.

“In the strict sense of the word?”

“Yes,” said Colin. “We all thought so. Mad.”

“I see,” said Alleyn again. “That's all, I think. Thank you.”