Читать книгу Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 4: A Surfeit of Lampreys, Death and the Dancing Footman, Colour Scheme - Ngaio Marsh, Stella Duffy - Страница 44

Tinkerton was a thin ambling sort of woman of about fifty. The only expression observable in her face was one of faint disapproval. She was colourless, not only in complexion, or merely because she gave no impression of character; but all over and in detail. Her eyes, her lashes, her lips, her voice, and her movements, were all without colour. It was as if she existed in a state of having recently uttered the phrase ‘not quite nice’, and forgotten its inspiration, while her mouth idiotically maintained the form given by the sentiment. She was dressed with great neatness in clothes that, a long time ago, might have belonged to someone else but had since absorbed nonentity. She wore pince-nez and a hair net. When Alleyn invited her to sit down, she edged round a chair and, with an air of suspicion, cautiously lowered her rump. She fixed her eyes on the edge of the table.

‘Well, Tinkerton,’ said Alleyn, ‘I hope her ladyship has settled down more comfortably.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Is she asleep, do you know?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then she won’t need you again, we hope. I’ve asked you to come in here because we want you, if you will, to give us as detailed account as you can of your movements from the time you came here this afternoon, until the discovery of Lord Wutherwood’s injury. We are asking everybody who was in the flat to account as far as possible for their movements. Can you remember yours, do you think?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Right. You arrived with Lord and Lady Wutherwood in their car. We’ll start there.’

But it was a thin account they got from Tinkerton. She did not seem actually to resent the interview, but she maintained a question-and-answer attitude, replying in the most meagre phrases, never responding to Alleyn’s invitation for a running narrative. It seemed that she spent most of the visit with Nanny in her sitting-room, from which she emerged at some vague moment and went to the servants’ hall in flat 25. By dint of patient and dogged questions, Alleyn discovered that on leaving Nanny’s room she found Giggle and Michael playing trains in the passage, and the rest of the Lamprey children in the hall of flat 25, dressing themselves for their charade. Tinkerton waited modestly on the landing until they went into the drawing-room and then slipped across into the passage and the servants’ hall where she met Baskett with whom she enjoyed conversation and a glass of sherry. She also called on cook. She could give no idea of the time occupied by these visits. On being pressed for further information, she said she had washed her hands in flat 25. From this ambiguous employment she went down the passage towards the hall, meaning to return to Nanny in flat 26. However, she saw Baskett in the hall, putting Lord Wutherwood into his coat. She immediately went into the servants’ sitting-room, heard Lord Wutherwood yell for his wife, collected her handbag, and hurried to the landing in time to see Giggle go downstairs. Alleyn got her to repeat this. ‘I want to be very clear about it. You were in the passage. You looked into the hall where you caught a glimpse of Lord Wutherwood and Baskett. You went into the servants’ sitting-room, which was close at hand, picked up your bag, went out again, walked along the passage, through the hall, and on to the landing. Did you meet any one?’

‘No,’ she said. She answered nothing immediately but met each question with an air of obstinate disapproval.

‘You simply saw Giggle’s back as he made for the stairs. Anyone else?’

‘Master Michael was going into the other flat.’

‘Where was Lord Wutherwood when you reached the landing?’

‘In the lift.’

‘Sitting down?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘All right. Will you go on, please?’

Tinkerton primmed her lips.

‘What did you do after that?’ asked Alleyn patiently.

Tinkerton said huffily that she followed Giggle downstairs. She remembered hearing Lord Wutherwood yell a second time. When he did that she was already some way downstairs. She joined Giggle in the car and remained there with him until the young lady came to fetch them. This came out inch by reluctant inch.

Alleyn made very careful notes, taking her over the stages of her movements several times. She seemed to be perfectly sure of her own accuracy and repeated monotonously that she had seen nobody but Giggle and Michael, as she went along the passage, through the hall, across the landing and downstairs.

‘Please think very carefully,’ Alleyn repeated. ‘You saw nobody else? You are absolutely positive?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘All right,’ said Alleyn cheerfully. ‘And now, what did you talk about all the afternoon?’ At this sudden change of tone and of tactics, Tinkerton’s air of disapproval deepened. ‘I really couldn’t say, sir,’ she said thinly.

‘You mean you don’t remember?’

‘I don’t recollect.’

‘But you must remember something, Tinkerton. You had a long chat with Lady Charles Lamprey’s nurse didn’t you? It must have been a long chat, you know, because when you came out Giggle and Master Michael were playing trains and they didn’t do that until some time after your arrival. What did you and Nanny (Mrs Burnaby, isn’t she?) discuss together?’

Tinkerton primmed her lips again and said several things were mentioned.

‘Well, let us hear some of them.’

Tinkerton said: ‘The young ladies and gentlemen came up.’

‘Of course,’ said Alleyn amiably, ‘you would discuss the family. Naturally.’

‘They came up,’ Tinkerton repeated guardedly.

‘In what connection?’

‘Mrs Burnaby brought them up,’ said Tinkerton, as if Nanny had suffered from a surfeit of Lampreys and had taken an emetic for it. ‘Miss Friede’s theatricals. I should,’ added Tinkerton, ‘have said Lady Friede. Pardon.’

‘I suppose you are all very interested in her theatricals?’

A slightly acid tinge crept over Tinkerton’s face as she agreed that they were.

‘And in all the family’s doings, I expect. Did Lord and Lady Wutherwood often pay visits to this flat?’

Not very often, it seemed. Alleyn began to feel as if Tinkerton was a bad cork and himself an inefficient cork-screw, drawing out unimportant fragments, while large lumps of testimony fell into the wine and were lost.

‘So this visit was quite an event,’ he suggested. ‘Have you been in the London house for long?’

‘No.’

‘For how long?’

‘We have not been there.’

‘You mean you arrived in London today.’ She didn’t answer. ‘Is that what you mean? Where did you come from?’

‘From Deepacres.’

‘From Deepacres? That’s in Kent, isn’t it? Did you come straight to this flat?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Had his lordship ever done that before, do you know?’

‘I don’t recollect.’

‘When were you to return to Deepacres?’

‘Her ladyship remarked to his lordship on the way up, that she would like to stay in town for a few days.’

‘What did he say to that?’

‘His lordship did not wish to remain in town. His lordship wished to return tomorrow.’

‘What decision did they come to?’ asked Alleyn. Was it imagination, or had he got a slightly firm grip on the cork?

‘His lordship,’ said Tinkerton, ‘remarked that he had been dragged up to London and wouldn’t stay away longer than one night.’

‘Then,’ said Alleyn, ‘they had come to London solely on account of this visit to the flat?’

‘I believe so, sir.’

‘Where were you to spend the night?’

‘In his lordship’s town residence,’ said Tinkerton genteelly. ‘14 Brummell Street, Park Lane.’

‘At such short notice?’

‘A skeleton staff is kept there,’ said Tinkerton. ‘Of course,’ she added.

‘Do you know why this visit was undertaken?’

‘His lordship received a telegram yesterday.’

‘From Lord Charles Lamprey?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Have you any idea why Lord Charles wanted to see his brother?’

Tinkerton’s expression of disapproval became still deeper. Alleyn thought he saw a glint of complacency behind it. Perhaps, after all, Miss Tinkerton was not altogether proof against the delights of gossip.

‘Her ladyship,’ she said, ‘mentioned that it was a business visit. H’m.’

‘And do you know the nature of the business?’

‘It came up,’ said Tinkerton, ‘on the drive during conversation between his lordship and her ladyship.’

‘Yes?’

‘I sat with Mr Giggle in front and did not catch the remarks, beyond a word here and there.’

‘Still, you gathered –’

‘I did not listen,’ said Tinkerton, ‘of course.’

‘Of course not.’

‘But his lordship raised his voice once or twice and said he would not do something that his brother wished him to do.’

‘What was that, do you know?’

‘It was money-matters.’ Something very like a sneer appeared on Tinkerton’s lips.

‘What sort of money-matters?’

‘The usual thing. Wanting his lordship to pay out.’

He could get no more from her than that. She showed no particular reluctance to answering his questions and no particular interest in them. He began to wonder if she had any warmth of feeling or any sense of partizanship in her make-up. As an experiment, he led the conversation towards Lady Wutherwood, and found that Tinkerton had been in her service for fifteen years. Her ladyship she said mincingly, was always very kind. Alleyn remembered those lack-lustre eyes and that sagging mouth and wondered wherein the kindness lay. He asked Tinkerton if she had noticed any change in her mistress. Tinkerton said dully that her ladyship was always the same, very kind. ‘And generous?’ Alleyn ventured. Yes, it seemed her ladyship was generous and considerate. Pressing a little more persistently Alleyn asked if she had noticed no mental instability in Lady Wutherwood. Tinkerton instantly became an oyster and to his next questions either answered no, or did not answer at all. She did not think Lady Wutherwood’s behaviour was so very peculiar. She could not say whether Lady Wutherwood was interested in the occult. Lady Wutherwood did not take any medicine or drug of any sort. Lady Wutherwood’s relations with her husband were not in any way unusual. She couldn’t say what sort of nursing-home it was that Lady Wutherwood went to. She did not notice anything very odd in Lady Wutherwood’s manner a few minutes ago. Her ladyship was upset, said Tinkerton of her own accord, and people often spoke wildly when they were upset. It was only natural.

‘Was that why you made signs to the nurse over her ladyship’s shoulder?’ asked Alleyn.

‘Her ladyship is suffering from shock,’ said Tinkerton in a burst of comparative candour. ‘I understand her ladyship. I knew she ought not to be upset by questions. I knew she ought to be in bed.’

It was the same thing when they came to the late Lord Wutherwood. He was, said Tinkerton, a very quiet gentleman. She wouldn’t describe him as mean nor would she describe him as generous. She couldn’t say whether he had understood his wife. By using the strictest economy of words Tinkerton managed to convey the impression that Alleyn was making an exhibition of himself and, if that was really her opinion, he was inclined to agree with her. He ran out of questions and sat looking at this infuriating woman. Suddenly he rose to his feet and, walking round the table, stood over her. Unlike most tall men Alleyn had the trick of swift movement. Tinkerton stiffened uneasily on the edge of her chair.

‘You know, of course, that Lord Wutherwood was murdered?’

She actually turned rather pale.

‘You know that?’ Alleyn repeated.

‘Everybody is saying so, sir.’

‘Who is everybody. You have been with Lady Wutherwood ever since it happened. Does she say her husband was murdered?’

‘The nurse said so.’

‘Did the nurse tell you how he died?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘What did she tell you? Describe it, exactly, if you please.’

Tinkerton moistened her lips. ‘The nurse said he was injured with a knife.’

‘What sort of knife?’

‘I mean a skewer.’

‘How was it done?’

‘The nurse said he had been stabbed through his eye.’

‘Who did it?’ Tinkerton gaped at him. ‘You heard me, I think,’ said Alleyn. ‘Who murdered Lord Wutherwood?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know anything about it.’

‘You know he must have been killed by someone in this flat.’

‘The nurse said so.’

‘It was so. Very well, then. You understand that if you can prove it was impossible for you to have stabbed Lord Wutherwood through his eye into his brain, you had better do so.’

‘But I said – I said I was downstairs when he was still calling her ladyship. I said so.’

‘How am I to know that is true?’

‘Mr Giggle will have heard. He knew I was behind him. Ask Mr Giggle.’

‘I have asked him. He doesn’t remember hearing Lord Wutherwood call a second time.’

‘But he did call a second time, sir. I tell you I heard him, sir. Mr Giggle must have been too far down to have heard. I was behind Mr Giggle.’

‘And you say you met nobody and saw nobody as you passed along the passage, through the hall, and across the landing?’

‘Only Mr Giggle, sir, and he didn’t notice me. I just caught sight of his back as he went down and Master Michael’s back as he went into the other flat. Before God, sir, it’s true.’

‘You are voluble enough,’ said Alleyn, ‘when it comes to your own safety.’

‘It’s true,’ Tinkerton repeated shrilly. ‘I’ve said nothing that wasn’t true.’

‘You’ve been with Lady Wutherwood fifteen years yet you don’t know the name of the nursing-home she went to nor why she went. You don’t know whether she is interested in the supernatural or whether she isn’t. You say she never takes any medicine or drug. Do you still insist that all three statements are truthful?’

‘I won’t talk about my lady. My lady hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s frightened and ill and shocked. It’s not my place to answer questions about her.’

Her hands worked dryly together against the fabric of her skirt. Alleyn watched her for a moment and then turned aside.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘We’ll leave it at that. Before you go I want you to mark on this plan, your exact position when Master Michael went into the other flat and when you saw Lord Wutherwood sitting in the lift.’

‘I don’t know that I remember exactly.’

‘Try.’

He put his sketch-plan on the table with a pencil.

Tinkerton took the pencil in her left hand and, after consideration, made two faint dots on the plan.

‘Your statement will be written out in longhand,’ said Alleyn, ‘and you will be asked to sign it. That’s all for the moment. Thank you. Good night.’