Читать книгу Vintage Murder - Ngaio Marsh, Stella Duffy - Страница 19

‘Who’s that?’ demanded the largest of the three detectives. ‘Just a minute there, please.’ He was on the stage and had caught sight of Alleyn through the open door of the prompt entrance.

‘It’s me,’ said Alleyn in a mild voice and walked through. The detective, Te Pokiha, and the police doctor, were all standing by the table.

‘Who’s this gentleman, Mr Gascoigne?’ continued the detective.

‘Er – it’s – er—Mr Alleyn, Inspector.’

‘Member of the company?’

‘No,’ said Alleyn, ‘just a friend.’

‘I thought I said no one was to come out here. What were you doing, sir? Didn’t you understand—?’

‘I just thought—’ began Alleyn with that particular air of hurt innocence that always annoyed him when he met it in his official capacity. ‘I just thought—’

‘I’ll have your full name and address, if you please,’ interrupted the inspector, and opened his notebook. ‘Allan, you said. First name?’

‘Roderick.’

‘How do you spell—?’ The inspector stopped short and stared at Alleyn.

‘A-l-l-e-y-n, Inspector.’

‘Good God!’

‘New Scotland Yard, London,’ added Alleyn apologetically.

‘By cripes, sir, I’m sorry. We’d heard you were – we didn’t know – I mean –’

‘I shall call at headquarters when I get to Wellington,’ said Alleyn. ‘I’ve got a letter somewhere from your chief. Should have answered it. Very dilatory of me.’

‘I’m very, very sorry, sir. We thought you were in Auckland. We’ve been expecting you, of course.’

‘I changed my plans,’ said Alleyn. ‘All my fault, Inspector—?’

‘Wade, sir,’ said the inspector, scarlet in the face.

‘How do you do?’ said Alleyn cheerfully, and held out his hand.

‘I’m very very pleased to meet you, Chief Inspector,’ said Inspector Wade, shaking it relentlessly. ‘Very very pleased. We had word that you were on your way, and as a matter of fact, Superintendent Nixon was going to look in at the Middleton as soon as you came down. Yes, that’s right. The super was going to call. We’ve all been trained on your book.¹ ‘It’s – it’s a great honour to meet the author.’

‘That’s very nice of you,’ said Alleyn, easing his fingers a little. ‘I should have called at your headquarters on my arrival, but you know how it is in a new place. One puts off these things.’ He glanced through the wings on to the stage.

‘That’s right. And now we meet on the job as you might say. Ye-ees.’

‘Not my job, thank the Lord,’ said Alleyn, ‘and, look here. I want to hide my job under a bushel. So – if you don’t mind – just don’t mention it to any of these people.’

‘Certainly, sir. I hope you’ll let the boys here meet you. They’d be very very pleased, I know.’

‘So should I—delighted. Just tip them the wink, if you don’t mind, to forget about the CID. And as I’m a layman, I suppose you want to ask me a few questions, Inspector?’

The New Zealander’s large healthy face again turned red.

‘Well now, sir, that makes me feel a bit foolish but – well – yes, we’ve got to do the usual, you know.’

‘Of course you have,’ said Alleyn very charmingly. ‘Nasty business, isn’t it? I shall be most interested to see something of your methods if you will allow me.’

‘It’s very fine of you to put it that way, sir. To be quite frank I was wondering if you would give us an account of what took place before the accident. You were in the party, I understand.’

‘A statement in my own words, Inspector?’ asked Alleyn, twinkling.

‘That’s right,’ agreed Wade with a roar of laughter, which he instantly quelled. His two subordinates, hearing this unseemly noise, strolled up and were introduced. Detective-Sergeants Cass and Packer. They shook Alleyn’s hand and stared profoundly at the floor. Alleyn gave a short but extremely workmanlike account of the tragedy.

‘By cripes!’ said Inspector Wade with great feeling. ‘It’s not often we get it like that. Now, about the way this champagne business was fixed. You say you made a sketch of it, sir?’

Alleyn showed him the sketch.

‘Ought to have worked OK,’ said Wade. I’ll go up and have a look-see.’

‘You’ll find it rather different, now,’ said Alleyn. ‘I ventured to have a glance up there myself. I do hope you don’t mind, Inspector. It was damned officious, I know, but I didn’t get off the ladder and I’m sure I’ve done no harm.’

‘That’s quite all right, sir,’ said Wade heartily. ‘No objections here. We don’t have Scotland Yard alongside us every day. You say it’s different from your sketch?’

‘Yes. May I come up with you?’

‘Too right. You boys fix up down here. Get the photographs through and the body shifted to the mortuary. You’d better ring the station for more men. Get a statement from the stage-manager and the bloke that rigged this tackle. You can take that on, Cass. And Packer, you get statements from the rest of the crowd. Are they all in the wardrobe-room?’

‘I think they will be there by now,’ said Alleyn. ‘The guests have gone, with the exception of a Mr Gordon Palmer and his cousin Mr Weston who, I believe, are still here. Mr George Mason, the business manager, has a list of the names and addresses. The guests simply came behind the scenes for the party and are casual acquaintances of the company. Mr Palmer and his cousin came out in the same ship as the company. I – I suggested that perhaps they might be of use. They were,’ said Alleyn dryly, ‘delighted to remain.’

‘Good-oh,’ said Wade. ‘Get to it, you boys. Are you ready, Mr Alleyn?’

He led the way up the iron ladder. When he reached the first gallery he paused and switched on his torch.

‘Not much light up there,’ he grunted.

‘Wait a moment,’ called Alleyn from below. ‘There’s a light-border. I’ll see if I can find the switch.’

He climbed up to the electrician’s perch and, after one or two experiments, switched on the overhead lights. A flood of golden warmth poured down through the dark strips of canvas.

‘Good-oh,’ said Wade.

‘It is extraordinary,’ thought Alleyn, ‘how ubiquitous they make that remark. It expresses anything from acquiescence to approbation.’

He mounted the iron ladder.

‘Well now, sir,’ said Wade, ‘it all looks much the same as your sketch to me. Where’s the difference?’

‘Look at the rope by the pulley,’ suggested Alleyn, climbing steadily. ‘Look at the end where the counterweight should be attached. Look—’

He had reached the second platform where Wade sat, dangling his legs. He turned on the ladder and surveyed the tackle.

‘Hell’s gaiters!’ said Alleyn very loudly. ‘They’ve put ’em back again.’

A long silence followed. Alleyn suddenly began to chuckle.

‘One in the eye for me,’ he said, ‘and a very pretty one, too. All the same it’s too damn’ clever by half. Look here, Inspector, when I came up here twenty minutes ago the counterweight was not attached to the rope over there, and the pulley had been moved eighteen inches this way by a loop of cord.’

‘Is that so?’ said Wade solemnly. After another pause he glanced at Alleyn apologetically. It’d be very dark then, sir. No lights at all, I take it. I suppose—’

‘I’ll go into the box and swear my socks off and my soul pink,’ said Alleyn. ‘And I had a torch, what’s more. No – it’s been put right again. It must have been done while I was in the dressing-room. By George, I wonder if the fellow was up here on the platform when I came up the ladder. You had just got to the theatre when I went down.’

‘D’you mean,’ asked Wade, ‘d’you mean to tell me that this gear was all different when we came in and someone’s changed it round since? We’d have known something about that, Mr Alleyn.’

‘My dear chap, but would you? Look here, kick me out. I’ve no business to gate-crash on your job, Inspector. It’s insufferable. Just take my statement in the ordinary way and I’ll push off. Lord knows, I didn’t mean to buck round doing the CID official.’

Wade, whose manner up to now had been a curious mixture of deference, awkwardness, and a somewhat forced geniality, now thawed completely.

‘Look, sir,’ he said, ‘you don’t need to make any apologies. I reckon I know a gentleman when I meet one. We’ve read about your work out here, and if you like to interest yourself – well, we’ll be only too pleased. Now! Only too pleased.’

‘Extraordinary nice of you,’ said Alleyn. ‘Thank you so much for those few nuts and so on. All right. Didn’t you stay by the stage-door for a bit, when you came in?’

Yes, that’s right, we did. Mr Gascoigne met us there and started some long story. We didn’t know what was up. Simply got the message, there’d been an accident at the theatre. It took me a minute or two to get the rights of it and another minute or two to find out where the body was. You know how they are.’

‘Exactly. Well now, while that was going on, I fancy our gentleman was up here and very busy. He came up under cover of all the hoo-hah on the stage some time after the event. He was just going to put things straight, when he heard me climbin’ up de golden stair, as you might say. That must have given him a queasy turn. He took cover somewhere up here in the dark and as soon as I went down again he did what he had to do. Then, when you were safely on the stage and shut off by the walls of scenery, down he came pussy-foot, by the back-stage ladder, and mixed himself up with the crowd. Conjecture, perhaps—’