Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 8: Death at the Dolphin, Hand in Glove, Dead Water. Ngaio Marsh

said, ‘no question is impertinent, I’m afraid.’

      ‘And I’m afraid I disagree with you.’

      ‘Would you mind telling me if you are still an undischarged bankrupt?’

      ‘I mind very much, but the answer is no. The whole thing was cleared up a year ago.’

      ‘That would be at the time of your marriage, I think?’

      Bimbo turned scarlet and said not a word.

      ‘Still,’ Alleyn went on after a slight pause, ‘I suppose the Grantham Gallery plan will go forward now, don’t you?’

      ‘I’ve no idea.’

      ‘No reason why it shouldn’t, one imagines, unless Mr Period, who’s a trustee, objects.’

      ‘In any case it doesn’t arise.’

      ‘No?’

      ‘I mean it’s got nothing to do with this ghastly business.’

      ‘Oh, I see. Well, now,’ Alleyn said briskly. ‘I fancy that’s about all. Except that I ought to ask you if there’s anything in the wide world you can think of that could be of help to us.’

      ‘Having no idea of the circumstances I can hardly be expected to oblige,’ Bimbo said with a short laugh.

      ‘Mr Cartell’s body was found in the open drain outside Mr Period’s house. He had been murdered. That,’ Alleyn lied, ‘is about all anyone knows.’

      ‘How had he been murdered?’

      ‘Hit on the head, it appears, and smothered.’

      ‘Poor old devil,’ said Bimbo. He stared absently at his cigarette. ‘Look!’ he said. ‘Nobody likes to talk wildly about a thing like this. I mean it just won’t do to put a wrong construction on what may be a perfectly insignificant detail, will it?’

      ‘It’s our job to forget insignificant details.’

      ‘Yes, I know. Of course. All the same –’

      ‘Mr Dodds, I really think I can promise you I won’t go galloping down a false trail with blinkers over my eyes.’

      Bimbo smiled. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Fair enough. No doubt I’m behaving like the original Silly Suspect or something. It’s just that, when it comes to the point, one doesn’t exactly fancy trotting out something that may turn out to be – well –’

      ‘Incriminating?’

      ‘Well, exactly. Mind you, in principle, I’m for weighing in with the police. We belly-ache about them freely enough but we expect them to protect us. Of course everybody doesn’t see it like that.’

      ‘Not everybody.’

      ‘No. And anyway with all the rot-gut that the long-haired gentry talk about understanding the thugs, it’s up to the other people to show the flag.’

      Disregarding a certain nausea in the region of his midriff, Alleyn said: ‘Quite.’

      Bimbo turned away to the window and seemed to be contemplating the landscape. Perhaps because of this, his voice had taken on a different perspective.

      ‘Personally,’ Alleyn heard him say, ‘I’m in favour of capital punishment.’

      Alleyn, who was one of an extremely small minority among his brother-officers, said: ‘Ah, yes?’

      ‘Anyway, that’s nothing to do with the point at issue,’ Bimbo said, turning back into the room. ‘I don’t know why I launched out like this.’

      ‘We can forget it.’

      ‘Yes, of course.’

      ‘You were going to tell me –?’

      ‘Yes, I was. It’s about this bloody fellow Leiss and his ghastly girl. They hung on to the bitter end of the party, of course. I’ve never seen anybody drink more or show it less, I’ll say that for them. Well, the last car was leaving – except his bit of wreckage – and it was about two o’clock. I thought I’d give them the hint. I collected his revolting overcoat and went to hunt them out. I couldn’t find them at first, but I finally ran them down in my study, here, where they had settled in with a bottle of my champagne. They were on the sofa with their backs to the door and didn’t hear me come in. They were pretty well bogged down in an advanced necking party. He was talking. I heard the end of the sentence.’ Bimbo stopped and frowned at his cigarette. ‘Of course, it may not mean a damn’ thing.’ He looked at Alleyn who said nothing.

      ‘Well, for what it’s worth,’ Bimbo went on. ‘He said: “And that disposes of Mr Harold Cartell: for keeps.” And she said something like: “When do you think they’ll find it?” and he said: “In the morning, probably. Not windy are you? For Christ’s sake, keep your head: we’re in the clear.”’

       CHAPTER 6

       Interlude

      With this piece of reportage, spurious or not as the case might prove to be, it appeared that Bimbo had reached saturation point as a useful witness. He had nothing more to offer. After noticing that a good deal of unopened mail lay on the desk, including several bills and a letter from a solicitor, addressed to Benedict Arthur Dodds, Alleyn secured Bimbo’s uneasy offer to sign a statement and took his leave.

      ‘Please don’t move,’ Alleyn said politely, ‘I can find my way out.’ Before Bimbo could put himself in motion, Alleyn had gone out and shut the study door behind him.

      In the hall, not altogether to his surprise, he found Desirée. She was, if anything, a little wilder in her general appearance and Alleyn wondered, if this was to be attributed to another tot of brandy. But, in all other respects she seemed to be more or less herself.

      ‘Hallo,’ she said. ‘I’ve been waiting for you. There’s a sort of crise.’

      ‘What sort?’

      ‘It may not be a crise at all, but I thought I’d better tell you. I really feel a bit awkward about it. I seem to have made a clanger, showing you P.P.’s funny letter. It wasn’t meant for me.’

      ‘Who was it meant for?’

      ‘He wouldn’t say. He’s just rung up in a frightful taking-on, asking me to throw it on the fire and forget about it. He went on at great length, talking about his grand ancestors and I don’t know what else.’

      ‘You didn’t tell him I’d seen the letter?’

      Desirée looked fixedly at him. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I didn’t but I felt like a housemaid who’s broken a cup. Poor P.P. What can it all be about? He is so fussed, you can’t imagine.’

      ‘Never mind,’ Alleyn said, ‘I dare say it’s only his over-developed social sense.’

      ‘Well, I know. All the same –’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘Rory,’ she said, ‘if you don’t awfully mind, don’t tell him I gave you the letter. He’d think me such a sweep.’

      At that moment Alleyn liked her very much. ‘I won’t tell him,’ he said carefully, ‘unless I have to. And, for your part, I’ll be obliged if you don’t tell him, either.’

      ‘I’m not likely to am I? And, anyway, I don’t quite see why the promises about this letter should all be on my side.’

      ‘It may be important.’

      ‘All right, but I can’t think how. You’ve got it. Are you going to use