Читать книгу Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 7: Off With His Head, Singing in the Shrouds, False Scent - Ngaio Marsh, Stella Duffy - Страница 28

As Ernie was not concerned to extend this statement and returned very foolish answers to any further questions, Alleyn was obliged to listen to his brothers who were eager in explanation.

Throughout yesterday morning, they said, while they erected the torches and prepared the bonfire, they had suffered a number of painful and determined assaults from Dame Alice’s geese. One male, in particular, repeatedly placing himself in the van, had come hissing down upon them. Damaging stabs and sidelong slashes had been administered, particularly upon Ernie, who had greatly resented them. He had been sent up again in the afternoon with the gardener’s slasher which he had himself sharpened, and had been told to cut down the brambles on the dancing area. In the dusk, the gander had made a final assault and an extremely painful one. Irked beyond endurance, Ernie had swiped at him with the slasher. When they arrived in the evening the brothers were confronted with the corpse and taken to task by Miss Mardian. Subsequently, they had got the whole story out of Ernie. He now listened to their recital with a maddening air of complacency.

‘Do you agree that is what happened?’ Alleyn asked him and he clasped his hands behind his head, rocked to and fro and chuckled. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘I whiffled ’im proper.’

‘Why did you leave the bird on the dolmen?’

Ernie said conceitedly: ‘You foreign chaps wouldn’t rightly catch on. I know what for I done it.’

‘Was it blood for the stone?’

He ducked his head low between his shoulders and looked sideways at Alleyn. ‘Happen it was, then. And happen ’twasn’t enough, however.’

‘Wanted more?’ Alleyn asked and mentally crossed his thumbs.

‘Wanted and got it, then.’

(‘Naow, naow, naow!’)

Ernie unclasped his hands and brought them down on the table. He gripped the edge so hard that the table quivered. ‘His own fault,’ he gabbled, ‘and not a soul else’s. Blood axes for blood and always will. I told him. Look what he done on me, Sunday. Murdered my dog, he did, murdered my dog on me when my back was turned. What he done Sunday come home on him Wednesday, and not a soul to answer for it but himself. Bloody murderer, he was, and paid in his own coin.’

Chris Anderson reached out and gripped his brother’s arm. ‘Shut your mouth,’ he said.

Dan said: ‘You won’t stop him that fashion. Take thought for yourself, Ernie. You’re not right smart in the head, boy. Your silly ways is well known: no blame to you if you’re not so clear-minded as the rest of us. Keep quiet then or, in your foolishness, you’ll bring shame on the family.’ His brothers broke into a confused chorus of approval.

Alleyn listened, hoping to glean something from the general rumpus, but the brothers merely reiterated their views with increased volume, no variation, and little sense.

Ernie suddenly jabbed his forefinger at Chris. ‘You can’t talk, Chrissie,’ he roared. ‘What about what happened yesterday? What about what you said you’d give ’im if he crossed you over you know – what –’

There was an immediate uproar. Chris and his three elder brothers shouted in unison and banged their fists down on the table.

Alleyn stood up. This unexpected movement brought about an instant quiet.

‘I’m sorry, men,’ he said, ‘but from the way things are shaping there can be no point in my keeping you round this table. You will stay either here or hereabouts, if you please, and we shall in due course see each of you alone. Your father’s body will be taken to the nearest mortuary for an examination which will be made by the Home Office pathologist. As soon as we can allow the funeral to take place you will be told all about it. There will, of course, be an inquest which you’ll be asked to attend. If you think it wise to do so, you may be legally represented, individually or as a family.’ He stopped, looked at each of them in turn and then said: ‘I’m going to do something that is unorthodox. Before I do so, however, I warn you that to conspire – that is, to act together and in collaboration for the purpose of withholding vital evidence in a case of murder – can be an extremely serious offence. I may be wrong, but I believe there is some such intention in your minds. You will do well to give it up. Now. Before more harm can come of it.’

He waited but they said nothing.

‘All right,’ said Alleyn, ‘we’ll get on with it.’ He turned to Ernie. ‘Last night, after your father’s body had been found, I’m told you leapt on the stone where earlier in the day you had put the dead gander. I’m told you pointed your sword at the German lady who was standing not very far away and you said, “Ask her. She’s the one that did it.” Did you do this?’

A half smile touched Ernie’s mouth, but he said nothing. ‘Did you?’ Alleyn insisted.

‘Ernie took a queer turn,’ Andy said. ‘He can’t rightly remember after his turns.’

‘Let him answer for himself. Did you do this, Ernie?’

‘I might and I might not. If they say so, I might of.’

‘Do you think the German lady killed your father?’

‘’Course she didn’t,’ Chris said angrily. ‘She couldn’t.’

‘I asked Ernie if he thought she did.’

‘I dunno,’ Ernie muttered and laughed.

‘Very well then,’ Alleyn said and decided suddenly to treat them to a rich helping of ham. ‘Here, in the presence of you all – you five sons of a murdered father – I ask you, Ernest Andersen, if you cut off that father’s head.’

Ernie looked at Alleyn, blinked and opened his mouth: but whether to speak or horridly to laugh again would never be known. A shadow had fallen across the little room. A voice from the doorway said:

‘I’d keep my mouth shut on that one if I were you, Corp.’

It was Simon Begg.