Died in the Wool (33 page)

‘What did you do?' Alleyn said gently.

‘I jumped back and bumped into the press. Then I didn't move for a long time. I wanted to but I couldn't. I kept thinking: “I ought to look at her.” But it was dark. I stooped down and grabbed up an armful of bales. I could just see something bright. It was that diamond thing. The other one was lost. Then I listened and there wasn't any sound. And then, I put down my hand and it touched soft dead skin. My arms threw the bales down without my knowing what they did. I swear I meant to go and tell them, I swear I never thought, then, of anything else. It wasn't till I was outside and he called out that I had any other idea.'

‘Albert Black called out?'

‘He was up the track a bit. He was drunk and stumbling. He called out: “Hey, Cliff, what have you been up to?” Then I felt suddenly like—well, as if I'd turned to water inside. It's a lie to say people think when things like this happen to them. They don't. And you don't control your body either. It acts by itself. Mine did. I didn't reason out anything, or tell myself what to do. It wasn't really me that ran uphill, away from the track and round the back of the bunkhouse. It was me, afterwards, thawing back into my body, going to the annexe and beginning to think with the radio still playing. It was me remembering the row we'd had and what I'd said to her. It was me switching off the radio and playing, when I heard the door of our house bang and the dogs start barking. It was me, next day, when nobody said anything, and the next and the next. And the next three weeks, wondering where they'd put it, and whether it was somewhere near. I thought about that much more often than I thought about who had done it. Albie had the wind up, he thought I'd say he'd taken the whisky, and they'd start wondering if he had a grudge against her. She'd wanted Mr Rubrick to sack him. When he was drunk he used to talk as if he'd give her the works. Then, when they found her, he talked to me just like you said. He thought I did it, he still thinks I did it, and he was afraid I'd try and put it across him and say he was tight and went for her.'

He lurched round the chair and flung himself clumsily into it. His agitation, until now precariously under control, suddenly mastered him and he began to sob, angrily, beating his hands on the chair arm. ‘It's gone,' he stammered. ‘It's gone. I can't even listen now. There isn't any music.'

Markins eyed him dubiously. Alleyn, after a moment's hesitation, went to him and touched him lightly on the shoulder. ‘Come,' he said, ‘it's not as bad as all that. There will be music again.'

‘There's as neat a case against that boy as you'd wish to see,' said Markins. ‘Isn't that right, sir? He's signed a statement admitting he did go into the shed, and we've only his word for it that the rest of the yarn's not a tarradiddle. D'you think they'll take his youth into consideration and send him to a reformatory?'

Alleyn was prevented from answering this question by the entrance of Tommy Johns, white to the lips and shaking with rage.

‘I'm that boy's father,' he began, standing before Alleyn and lowering his head like an angry monkey, ‘and I won't stand for this third degree business. You've had him in here and grilled him till he's broke down and said anything you liked to put into his mouth. They may be your ways, wherever you come from, but they're not ours in this country and we won't take it. I'll make a public example of you. He's out there, poor kid, all broke up and that weak and queer he's not responsible for himself. I told him to keep his trap shut, silly young tyke, and as soon as he gets out of my sight this is what you do to him. Has anything been took down against him? Has he put his name to anything? By God, if he has, I'll bring an action against you.'

‘Cliff has made a statement,' Alleyn said, ‘and has signed it. In my opinion it's a true statement.'

‘You've no right to make him do it. What's your standing? You've no bloody right.'

‘On the contrary I am fully authorized by your police. Cliff has taken the only possible course to protect himself. I repeat that I believe him to have told the truth. When he's got over the effects of the experiment he may want to talk to you about it. Until then, if I may advise you, I should leave him to himself.'

‘You're trying to swing one across me.'

‘No.'

‘You reckon he done it. You're looking for a case against him.'

‘Without much looking, there is already a tenable case against him. At the moment, however, I don't think he committed either of these assaults. But, as you are here, Mr Johns—'

‘You're lying,' Tommy Johns interjected with great energy.

‘—I feel I should point out that your own alibis are in both instances extremely sketchy.'

Tommy Johns was at once very still. He leant forward, his arms flexed and hanging free of his body, his chin lowered. ‘I'd got no call to do it,' he said. ‘Why would I want to do it? She treated me fair enough according to her ideas. I've got no motive.'

‘I imagine,' Alleyn said, ‘it's a fairly open secret on the place that the work Captain Grace and Mr Losse have been doing together is of military importance. That it is, in fact, an experimental war job and, as such, has been carried out in secrecy. You also know that Mrs Rubrick was particularly interested in anti-espionage precautions.'

‘I don't know anything about that,' Tommy Johns began, but Alleyn interrupted him. ‘You don't see a windmill put up at a considerable expense to provide an electric supply for one room only, and that a closely-guarded workroom, without wondering what it's in aid of. Mrs Rubrick herself seems to have adopted a somewhat obvious attitude of precaution and mystery. The police investigation was along unmistakable lines. You can't have failed to see that they were making strenuous efforts to link up murder with possible espionage. To put it bluntly, your name appears in the list of persons who might turn out to be agents in the pay of an enemy power, and therefore suspects in the murder of Mrs Rubrick. Of course, there's a far more obvious motive: anger at Mrs Rubrick's attitude towards your son in the matter of the stolen whisky, and fear of any further steps she might take.'

Tommy Johns uttered an extremely raw expletive.

‘I only mention it,' said Alleyn, ‘to remind you that Cliff's “grilling” as you call it, was in no way peculiar to him. Your turn may come, but not tonight. I've got to start work at five, and I must get some sleep. You pipe down like a sensible chap. If you and your boy had no hand in these assaults, you've nothing to worry about.'

‘I'm not so sure,' he said, blinking. ‘The wife's had about as much as she can take,' he added indistinctly, and looked at Alleyn from under his jutting brows. ‘Oh, well,' he said.

‘Murder takes it out of all hands,' Alleyn murmured, piloting him to the door. Johns halted in front of Markins. ‘What's he doing in here?' he demanded.

‘I'm OK, Tommy,' said Markins. ‘Don't start in on me now.'

‘I haven't forgot it was you that put the boy away with her in the first instance,' said Johns. ‘The boy asked us not to let it make an unpleasantness, so we didn't. But I haven't forgot. You're the fancy witness in this outfit, aren't you? What's he pay you for it?'

‘He's not in the least fancy,' said Alleyn. ‘He's going to see you and the boy home in about ten minutes. In the meantime I want you all to wait in the drawing-room.'

‘What d'you mean, see us home?'

‘In case there are any more murders and you're littered about the place without alibis.' He nodded to Markins who opened the door. ‘You might ask Miss Harme to come in,' Alleyn said, and they went away.

‘I wanted to see you by yourself,' said Ursula; ‘I never have, you know.'

‘I'm afraid there'll be no marked improvement,' said Alleyn.

‘Well, I rather like you,' she said, ‘and so does Fab. Of course, I'm terribly pleased that the murderer didn't kill you, and so will Fab be when he's better, but I must say I do wish he could have missed altogether and not caught my poor boyfriend on his already very tricky head.'

‘It may all turn out for the best,' Alleyn said.

‘I don't quite see how. Fabian will almost certainly consider himself well below C3 as a marrying man and turn me down flat.'

‘You'll have to insist.'

‘Well, so I will if I can, but it's a poor prospect. I wanted to ask you. Was he at all peculiar while he was unconscious? Did he want to go swarming up the walls or anything?'

Alleyn hesitated before answering this startlingly accurate description. ‘I see he did,' said Ursula quickly. ‘Then it did get to the old spot. I'd hoped not. Because, you know, he was hit behind the ear when he was climbing up into the boat at Dunkirk, and this is at the back of his head.'

‘Perhaps it's just because he was unconscious.'

‘Perhaps,' she said doubtfully. ‘Did he talk about dropping into the sea, and did he do the sort of gallant young leader number for the men who were with him? “Come on, you chaps. Excelsibloodyor.” '

‘Exactly that.'

‘Isn't it difficult!' Ursula said gloomily. ‘I had a frightful set-to with him in the ship. Up the companion-way like greased lightning and then all for shinning up the rigging, only fortunately there was no rigging very handy. But to do him justice, I must say he didn't fight me. Although concussed, I suppose he knew a lady when he saw one, and remained the little gent.'

‘Does he ever call you “funny old thing”?'

‘Never. That's not at all his line. Why?'

‘He called somebody that when he was talking.'

‘You, perhaps?'

‘Positively not. He merely hit me.'

‘Well, it would be a man.'

‘Are you at all interested in the shearing process?'

Ursula stared at him. ‘Me?' she said. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Do you ever help in the shed? Pick up the fleeces or anything?'

‘Good heavens, no. Women don't, though I suppose we'll have to if the war goes on much longer. Why?'

‘Then you couldn't tell me anything about sorting?'

‘Of course not. Ask Douglas or Fab or Tommy Johns. Or why not Ben Wilson? It's frightfully technical.'

‘Yes. Do you suppose Fabian tried to climb anything when he blacked out on the night of the search?'

‘I'm quite sure he did,' said Ursula soberly.

‘You are? Why?'

‘I had a good look at him, you know. You remember I guessed he'd had another go. The palms of his hands were stained, as if he'd held on to things like branches. I sent his white trousers to the wash. They had green lines on them.'

‘You're a very good sensible girl,' said Alleyn warmly, ‘and if you want to marry him, you shall.'

‘I don't see what you can do about it, but it's nice of you, all the same. Why are you so excited about Fabian climbing the tree?'

‘Because if he did he had a view of the lay-out.'

‘Did he say anything?'

‘Yes. Scarcely evidence, I'm afraid. The only way to get that would be to knock him neatly over the head in the witness-box, and I don't suppose you'd allow that. He'll have forgotten all about his black-outs, as usual, when he comes round. It seems that when they happen he is at once aware of the previous experiences and returns in memory to them.'

‘Isn't it rum?' said Ursula.

‘Very. I think you may go to bed now. Here is the key of Losse's room. You may open the door and look at him if you like. If he wakes, whisper some pacific reassurance and come away.'

‘I suppose I couldn't sit with him for a bit?'

‘It's half-past ten. I thought it was to be an early night?'

‘I'd like to. I'd be as still as a mouse.'

‘Very well. I'll leave the key in your charge. What did you decide about a doctor?'