‘Did you go to sleep?’
‘Not at once.’
‘You read, perhaps?’
‘Yes. For a—yes, I read.’
‘What was your book?’
‘Really,’ said Ursula impatiently, ‘can it possibly matter?’
‘It was some novel,’ said Terence. ‘I’ve forgotten the title. Some spy story, I think it is.’
‘And you were still awake when I came upstairs and spoke to Miss Harme?’
‘I was still awake.’
‘Yes, your candles were alight. Were you still reading?’
‘Yes,’ she said, after a pause.
‘The spy story must have had some merit,’ Alleyn said with a smile. She ran her tongue over her lips.
‘Did you hear any one other than Mrs Aceworthy and Miss Harme come upstairs?’
‘Yes. More than one person. I thought I heard you speaking to Fabian or Douglas. Or it might have been Fabian speaking to Douglas. Your voices are alike.’
‘Any one on the back stairs?’
‘I couldn’t hear from my room.’
‘Did you use the back stairs at all, during this period, Markins?’
‘No, sir,’ said Markins woodenly.
‘I’d like to hear what Markins was doing,’ said Douglas suddenly.
‘He has already given me an account of his movements,’ Alleyn rejoined. ‘He was on his way up the back path to the track, when he thought he saw me. Later he heard a voice which he mistook for mine. He continued on his way and met nobody. He visited the manager’s cottage and returned. I met him. Together we explored the track and discovered Losse, lying unconscious on the branch track near the wool-shed.’
‘So,’ said Douglas, raising an extremely obvious eyebrow at Alleyn, ‘Markins was almost on the spot at the critical time.’ Alleyn heard Markins sigh windily. Tommy Johns said quickly: ‘He was up at our place, Captain, and I talked to him. There’s nothing funny about that.’
‘Supposing we take you next, Mr Johns,’ said Alleyn. ‘Were you at home all the evening?’
‘I went down to the ram paddock after tea—about half-past six, it was, and I looked in at the men’s quarters on my way back. That lovely cook of theirs has made a job of it this time, Captain. Him and Albert are both packed up. Singing hymns and heading for the willies.’
‘Tcha!’ said Douglas.
‘And then?’ Alleyn asked.
‘I went home. The half-past seven programme started up on the radio just after I got in. I didn’t go out again.’
‘And Markins arrived—when?’
‘Round about a quarter to eight. The eight o’clock programme came on just as he left.’
‘It was a quarter to eight by radio when I left here, sir,’ said Markins, ‘and five past when I got back and wound the kitchen clock.’
‘You seem to have taken an interest in the time,’ said Douglas, staring at him.
‘I always do, sir. Yes.’
‘Mr Johns,’ said Alleyn, ‘have you witnesses that you stayed at home from half-past seven onwards?’
Tommy Johns drew down his brows and stuck out his upper lip. ‘He is like a monkey,’ Alleyn thought.
‘The wife was about,’ said Tommy. ‘Her and Mrs Duck. Mrs Duck dropped in after she’d finished here.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Alleyn thought. ‘The wife!’ And aloud he said:
‘They were in the room with you?’
‘They were in the front room. Some of the time. I was in the kitchen.’
‘With Cliff?’
‘That’s right,’ said Tommy Johns quickly.
‘Except for the time when you sent Cliff down here with the paper?’
Cliff made a brusque movement with his hands.
‘Oh, that!’ said Tommy loudly, too easily. ‘Yes, that’s right, he ran down with it, didn’t he? That’s right. Only away a minute or two. I’d forgotten.’
‘You came here,’ Alleyn said to Cliff, ‘while I was in the room. You went away as I was saying I’d left my cigarette case in the annexe and would go and fetch it.’
‘I never heard that,’ said Cliff. He cleared his throat and added hurriedly, as if the words were irrelevant, ‘I went straight back. I went out by the kitchen door. Mr Markins saw me. I was home when he came up a few minutes later. I never heard anything about anybody going out from here.’
‘Did you hear or see Mr Losse, or any one at all as you went back?’
‘How could I? He left after me. I mean,’ said Cliff, turning very white, ‘he must have left after me because he was here when I went away.’
‘No. He was upstairs.’
‘I mean upstairs. He was going upstairs when I came out.’
‘I see. Which way did you take going home?’
‘The kitchen path. Then I cut across the hill and through the fence. That brings you out on the main track, just below the fork off to the wool-shed.’
‘And you heard nothing of any one else?’
‘When I got above the annexe I heard a door slam down below. That would be Mr Markins coming out. He turned up at our place a couple of minutes after I got in. He followed me up.’
‘Was it to you that Captain Grace called “goodnight” from the lawn?’ Cliff looked at Douglas and away again.
‘Not at me,’ he said. ‘Anyway I didn’t think so.’
‘But you heard him?’
‘I did just hear.’
‘Why didn’t you answer?’
‘I didn’t reckon it was me he called out to. I was away up on the kitchen path.’
‘Did you hear any one on the track?’
‘I didn’t notice.’
‘Someone was there,’ said Douglas positively, and stared at Markins.
‘Well, I didn’t hear them,’ Cliff insisted.
His father scowled anxiously. ‘You want to be sure of that,’ he said. ‘Look, could you swear you didn’t hear somebody on the track? Put it that way. Could you swear?’
‘You’d make a good barrister, Mr Johns,’ said Alleyn, with a smile.
‘I don’t know anything about that,’ said Johns angrily, ‘but I reckon Cliff needs a lawyer to stand by before he says anything else. You close down, and don’t talk, son.’
‘I haven’t done anything, Dad.’
‘Never mind that. Keep quiet. They’ll trip you into making a fool of yourself.’
‘I’ve only one more question in any case, Cliff,’ said Alleyn. ‘Once at home, did you go out again?’
‘No. I sat in the kitchen with Dad and Mr Markins. I was still there when Mr Markins came back the second time to say there’d been an accident.’
‘All right.’ Alleyn moved away from the fireplace and sat on the arm of the sofa. His audience also shifted a little, like sheep, he thought, keeping an eye on the dog.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘That about covers the collective questions. I’d like to see some of you individually. I think, Grace, that you and I had better have a consultation, hadn’t we?’
‘By all means,’ said Douglas, looking a little as if he had been summoned to preside over a court-martial. ‘I quite agree, sir.’
‘Perhaps we could move into the study for a moment. I’d like you all to stay here, if you don’t mind. We shan’t be long.’
The study was piercingly cold. Douglas lit a lamp and the fire, and they sat together on the wooden fender while, above them, Florence Rubrick’s portrait stared at nothing.
‘I don’t think Losse ought to be bothered with a plan of action just yet,’ Alleyn said. ‘Do you?’
‘Oh, no. Good Lord, no.’
‘I wanted to consult you about our next move. I’ll have to report this business to the police, you know.’
‘Oh, God!’
‘Well, I’ll have to.’
‘They’re such hopeless chaps, sir. And to have them mucking about again with notebooks! However! I quite see. It’s not altogether your affair, is it?’
‘Only in so far as I was the intende
d victim,’ said Alleyn dryly.
‘You know,’ Douglas muttered with owlish concern, ‘I’d come to that conclusion myself. Disgraceful, you know.’
Alleyn disregarded this quaint reflection on the ethics of attempted murder.
‘They may,’ he said, ‘ask me to carry on for a bit, or they may come fuming up here themselves, but the decision rests with them.’
‘Quite. Well, I jolly well hope they do leave it to you. I’m sure we all feel like that about it.’
‘Including the assailant, do you suppose?’
Douglas pulled his moustache. ‘Hardly,’ he said. ‘That joker would be quite a lot happier without you, I imagine.’ He laughed heartily.
‘Evidently. But of course he may choose to have another whack at me.’
‘Don’t you worry, sir,’ said Douglas kindly. ‘We’ll look after that.’
His complacency irritated Alleyn. ‘Who’s we?’ he asked.
‘I’ll make it my personal responsibility—’
‘You,’ said Alleyn warmly. ‘My dear man, you’re a suspect. How do I know you won’t come after me with a bludgeon?’
Douglas turned scarlet, ‘I don’t know if you’re serious, Mr Alleyn,’ he began, but Alleyn interrupted him. ‘Of course I’m serious.’
‘In that case,’ said Douglas grandly, ‘there’s no more to be said.’
‘There’s this much to be said. If you’ll prove to me that you couldn’t have dodged up that blasted track and had a whack at poor Losse, I’ll be profoundly grateful to you. There are too many suspects in this case. The house is littered with them.’
‘I’ve told you,’ said Douglas, who seemed to hover between alarm and disapproval. ‘I’ve told you what I did. I went out on the lawn, and I came upstairs and knocked at Terry’s door. I said goodnight.’
‘Most unnecessary. You’d already said goodnight to her. You might have been establishing an alibi.’
‘Good God, you saw me yourself when you came upstairs!’
‘Fully ten minutes later. Longer.’
‘I was in my pyjamas,’ Douglas shouted.
‘I saw you. Your pyjamas prove nothing. I’m completely unmoved by your pyjamas.’
‘Look here, this is too much. Why would I want to go for Fabian? I’m fond of him. We’re partners. Good Lord!’ Douglas fumed, ‘you can’t mean what you’re saying. Haven’t I urged him to be careful over the work? Why should I go for old Fab?’
‘For me.’
‘Damn! For you, then. You’re supposed to be the blasted expert.’
‘And as an expert, God save the mark, I’m keeping my eye on the whole boiling of you, and that’s flat.’
‘Well, I don’t think you put it very nicely,’ said Douglas, staring at him, and he added angrily, ‘What’s the matter with your face?’
‘Somebody hit it. It’s very stiff and has probably turned purple.’
Douglas gaped at him. ‘Hit you!’ he repeated.
‘Yes, but it’s of the smallest consequence, now you’ve appointed yourself my guardian.’
‘Who hit you?’
‘It’s a secret at the moment.’
‘Here!’ said Douglas loudly, ‘are you pulling my leg?’ He looked anxiously at Alleyn. ‘It’s a funny sort of way to behave,’ he said dubiously. ‘Oh, well,’ he added, ‘I’m sorry if I got my rag out, sir.’
‘Not a bit,’ said Alleyn. ‘It’s always irritating to be a suspect.’
‘I wish you wouldn’t keep on like that,’ said Douglas fretfully. ‘It’s damned unpleasant. I hoped I might be allowed to help. I’d like to help.’
‘We’re talking in circles. Beat me up a respectable alibi, with witnesses, for the murder of your aunt and the attack on Losse and I’ll take you to my professional bosom with alacrity.’
‘By God,’ said Douglas with feeling, ‘I wish I could.’
‘In the meantime, will you, without prejudice, undertake to do three things for me?’
‘Of course!’ he said stiffly. ‘Anything at all. Naturally.’
‘The first is to see I get a fair field and no interference in the wool-shed, from daybreak tomorrow until I let you know I’ve finished. I can’t do any good there at night, by the light of a farthing dip.’
‘Right-oh, sir. Can do.’
‘The second is to tell the others in confidence that I propose to spend the night in the wool-shed. That’ll prevent any unlawful espials up there, and give me a chance to get the tag end of a night’s sleep in my room. Actually, I can’t start work until daybreak, but they’re not to know that. After daybreak we’ll keep the shed, the track and the precincts generally, clear of intruders, but you need say nothing about that. Let them suppose I’m going up there now and that you oughtn’t to tell them. Let them suppose that I want them to believe I’m going to my room.’
‘They won’t think that kind of thing very like me,’ said Douglas solemnly. ‘I’m not the sort to cackle, you know.’
‘You’ll have to do a bit of acting. Make them understand that you’re not supposed to tell them. That’s most important.’
‘OK. What’s the third duty?’
‘Oh,’ said Alleyn wearily, ‘to lend me an alarm clock or knock me up before the household’s astir. Unless somebody shakes me up, I’ll miss the bus. I wish to Heaven you’d carried your electricity over to the shed. There’s important evidence lying there for the taking, but I must have light. Are you sure you follow me? Actually I’m going to my room. They are to suppose I’m going to the wool-shed, but want to be thought in bed.’
‘Yes,’ said Douglas. ‘I’ve got that. Jolly subtle.’
‘Will you give me an alarm clock, or call me?’
‘I’ll call you,’ said Douglas, who had begun to look important and tolerably happy again.
‘Good. And now ask Miss Lynne to come in here, will you?’
‘Terry? I say, couldn’t you…I mean…well, she’s had a pretty rough spin tonight. Couldn’t you…’
‘No,’ said Alleyn very firmly. ‘With homicide waiting to be served up cold on a plate, I’m afraid I couldn’t. Get her, like a good chap, and deliver your illicit information. Don’t forget Markins.’
Douglas moved unhappily to the door. Here he paused and a faint glint of complacency appeared on his face.
‘Markins, what?’ he said. His eyes travelled to Alleyn’s jaw. ‘I’m not one to ask questions out of my turn,’ he said, ‘but I bet it was Markins.’
Terence was some time coming. Alleyn built up the fire and thawed himself out. He was caught on a wave of nostalgia; for Troy, his wife, for London, for Inspector Fox with whom he was accustomed to work, for his own country and his own people. If this had been a routine case from the Yard, he and Fox would, at its present stage, have gone into one of their huddles, staring at each other meditatively over their pipes. He could see old Fox now; his large unspeaking face, his grave attentiveness, his huge passive fists. And when it was over, there would be Troy, hugging her knees on the hearthrug and bringing him a sense of peace and communion. ‘She is nice,’ he thought. ‘I do like my wife,’ and he felt a kind of panic that he was so far away from her. With a sigh, he dismissed his mood and returned to the house on the slopes of Mount Moon, and felt again the silence of the plateau beyond the windows and the austerity of the night.
A door banged and someone crossed the hall. It was Terence Lynne.
She made a sedate entrance, holding herself very erect, looking straight before her. He noticed that she had powdered her face and done her lips. Evidently she had visited her room. He wondered if the book was still tucked down between the sheets.
‘All right now?’ he asked, and pushed a chair up to the fire.
‘Quite, thank you.’
‘Sit down, won’t you? We’ll get it over quickly.’
She did as he suggested, at once, stiffly, as if she obeyed an order.
‘Miss Lynne,’ Alleyn said, ‘I’m afraid I must ask you to let me read that diary.?
??
He felt her hatred, as if it was something physical that she secreted and used against him. ‘I wasn’t mistaken after all,’ she said. ‘I was right to think you would go back to my room. That’s what you’re like. That’s the sort of thing you do.’
‘Yes, that’s the sort of thing I do. I could have taken it away with me, you know.’
‘I can’t imagine why you didn’t.’
‘Will you please wait here, now, while I get it?’
‘I refuse to let you see it.’
‘In that case, I must lock your room and report to the police in the morning. They will come up with a search warrant and take the whole thing over themselves.’
Her hands trembled. She looked at them irritably and pressed them together in the fold of her gown. ‘Wait a minute,’ she said. ‘There’s something I must say to you. Wait.’
‘Of course,’ he said and turned away.
After perhaps a minute she began to speak slowly and carefully. ‘What I am going to tell you is the exact truth. Until an hour ago I would have been afraid to let you see it. There is something written there that you would have misinterpreted. Now, you would not misinterpret it. There is nothing in it that could help you. It is because the thought of your reading it is distasteful to me that I want to keep it from you. I swear that is all. I solemnly swear it.’
‘You must know,’ he said, ‘that I can’t act on an assurance of that sort. Surely you must know.’ She leant forward, resting her forehead on her hand and pushing her hair back from it. ‘If it is as you say,’ Alleyn continued, ‘you must try to think of me as something quite impersonal, as indeed I am. I have read many scores of such documents, written for one reader only, and have laid them aside and put them from my mind. But I must see it or, if I don’t, the police must do so. Which is it to be?’