Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 2. Ngaio Marsh

don’t mean anything definite,’ interrupted Mrs Candour in a hurry. ‘Please, please don’t attach any importance to what I’ve just said. It was only my idea. I’m so dreadfully upset. Poor Cara. Poor, poor Cara.’

      ‘Mr Claude Wheatley tells me –’

      ‘Don’t you believe anything that little beast says, Mr – er – Inspector – er –’

      ‘Inspector Alleyn, madam.’

      ‘Oh – Inspector Alleyn. Claude’s a little pig. Always prying into other people’s affairs. I’ve told Father, but he’s so good he doesn’t see.’

      ‘I gather you rather upset Mr Wheatley by referring to his preparations for the service.’

      ‘Serves him right if I did. He kept on saying it was murder, he knew it was murder, and that Cara was such a lovely woman and everyone was jealous of her. I just said: “Well,” I said, “if she was murdered,” I said, “who prepared the goblet and the flagon?” And then he fainted. I thought it looked very queer.’

      ‘Miss Quayne was a very beautiful woman, I believe?’ said Alleyn casually.

      ‘I never could see it. Of course, if you admire that type. But just because that M. de Ravigne went silly over her – I mean everyone knows what foreigners are like. If you give them any encouragement, that is. Well, I myself – I suppose Claude told you that – about her looks, I mean. Or was it Father Garnette? Was it?’

      ‘I’m afraid I don’t remember,’ said Alleyn.

      Mrs Candour jerked her chin up. For a second her face was horrible. ‘Cara doesn’t look very pretty now,’ she said softly.

      Alleyn turned away.

      ‘I mustn’t keep you any longer,’ he said. ‘There’s only one other point. You were the first, after Mr Garnette, to take the cup. Did you notice any peculiar smell?’

      ‘I don’t know. I don’t remember. No, I don’t think so.’

      ‘I see. Thank you. That is all, I think.’

      ‘I may go home?’

      ‘Certainly. There is a wardress in the lobby. Would you object to being examined?’

      ‘Searched!’

      ‘Just looked over, you know. It’s the usual thing.’

      ‘Oh, yes, please – I’d rather – much rather.’

      ‘Thank you. You will be given notice of the inquest.’

      ‘The inquest! Oh, how dreadful. I don’t know how I’m to get over this – I’m so shockingly sensitive. Inspector Alleyn, you’ve been marvellously kind. I always thought that police methods were brutal.’ She looked up at him with a general air of feminine helplessness somewhat negatived by a glint of appraisal in her eye. It was a ghastly combination. She held out her hand.

      ‘Goodbye, Inspector Alleyn.’

      ‘Good evening, madam,’ said Alleyn.

      She wobbled away on her French heels.

      ‘This is a very unsavoury case,’ said Nigel.

      ‘It’s murder,’ said Inspector Fox mildly.

      ‘Most foul,’ added Alleyn, ‘as at the best it is. But this most foul – Yes, I agree with you, Bathgate. Bailey!’

      ‘Here,’ said that worthy, rising up from behind the lectern.

      ‘Next please.’

      ‘Right, sir.’

      ‘What did you make of Mrs Candour?’ asked Alleyn.

      ‘A perfectly appalling old girl,’ said Nigel fervently.

      ‘Oh, yes. All that. Almost a pathological case, one might imagine. Still, the exhibition of jealousy was interesting, didn’t you think, Fox?’

      ‘Yes, I did,’ agreed Fox. ‘This Father Garnette seems to be a peculiar sort of man for the ministry.’

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘When she made that appalling remark about Cara not looking very pretty now,’ said Nigel, ‘she was positively evil. Without a shadow of doubt she loathed the poor woman. I am surprised at your allowing her to escape. She should have been handcuffed immediately, I consider.’

      ‘Don’t show off,’ said Alleyn abstractedly.

      ‘I’ll be right there, Ahfficer. Where’s the Chief?’ cried Mr Ogden from afar. He appeared with Bailey by the altar, saw Alleyn, and made straight for him.

      ‘Well, well, well. Look what’s here!’ exclaimed Mr Ogden.

      ‘Yes, look,’ said Alleyn. ‘It’s a pathetic sight, Mr Ogden. Here we go grubbing along – however.’

      ‘Say, Inspector, what’s the big idea? You look kind of world-weary.’

      ‘Do I, Mr Ogden, do I?’

      ‘And just when I was congratulating myself on sitting right next the works for an inside survey of British criminal investigation.’

      ‘And now you’ll never talk again about our wonderful police.’

      ‘Is that so? Well, I’m not saying anything.’

      ‘You won’t mind if I ask you a few dreary questions, perhaps? We have to do our stuff, you know.’

      ‘Go right ahead. My, my!’ said Mr Ogden contemplating Alleyn with an air of the liveliest satisfaction. ‘You certainly are the goods. I guess you’ve got British Manufacture stamped some place where it won’t wear off. All this quiet deprecation – it’s direct from a sure-fire British best-seller. I can’t hardly believe it’s true.’

      Nigel, from his unobtrusive seat by Fox, allowed himself an irritating grin. Alleyn saw it and looked furious.

      ‘That sounds a very damning description, Mr Ogden,’ he said, and hurried on. He asked Ogden if he had noticed a peculiar smell and got the now customary reply that the reek of incense was so strong that it would drown any other smell.

      ‘Though, now I get to thinking about it,’ added Mr Ogden, ‘I do seem to remember it was uncommon powerful tonight. Yes, sir, I believe I thought those two he-he boys were certainly hitting up the atmosphere.’

      ‘Can you remember at what precise moment you thought this?’

      Mr Ogden’s face became very pink. For the first time since Alleyn met him he hesitated.

      ‘Well, Mr Ogden?’

      ‘Well now, Inspector, I can’t remember. Isn’t that just too bad?’

      ‘Miss Jenkins was next to you in the circle, wasn’t she?’

      ‘That is correct,’ said Mr Ogden tonelessly.

      ‘Yes. Now look here, sir. You’re a business man I take it?’

      ‘Surely.’

      ‘Thank God for that. I don’t know how much this organisation means to you, and I don’t want to say anything that will be offensive, but I’m longing for a sensible man’s view of the whole situation. An intelligent and knowledgeable view.’

      ‘Inside dope,’ said Mr Ogden.

      ‘Exactly.’

      ‘Go right ahead. Maybe I’ll talk and maybe not. Maybe I don’t know anything.’

      ‘I gather you are an officer of the executive?’

      ‘That’s so. A Warden.’

      ‘You know all these people quite well, I suppose?’

      ‘Why, yes. We are all