Read Spinsters in Jeopardy Online

Authors: Ngaio Marsh

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #det_classic, #Mystery & Detective, #Police Procedural, #Police, #Detective and mystery stories, #England, #Women painters, #Alleyn; Roderick (Fictitious character), #Alps; French (France), #Alleyn; Roderick (Fictitious character) - Fiction, #Police - England - Fiction

Spinsters in Jeopardy (18 page)

BOOK: Spinsters in Jeopardy
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“So knowing Monsieur must have been in the train and awake, since he was to alight at Roqueville, this blasphemer produces his lies.”

“It might well be so. M. Dupont and I both incline to think so. Now, you see, don’t you, that if murder
was
done in that room in the early hours of this morning, we have great cause to revisit the Château. Not only to arrest a killer but to discover why he killed. Not only to arrest a purveyor of drugs who has caused many deaths but to discover his associates. And not only for these reasons but also to learn, if we can, what happens in the locked room on Thursday nights. For all these reasons, Raoul, it seems imperative that we visit the Château.”

“Well, Monsieur.”

“Two courses suggest themselves. I may return openly to enquire after the health of Mademoiselle Truebody. If I do this I shall have to admit that Ricky has been found.”

“They will have learned as much from the man Callard, Monsieur.”

“I am not so sure. This afternoon M. Dupont ordered that all outward calls from the factory should be blocked at central and that the Château should be cut off. At the Château they will be extremely anxious to avoid any sign that they are in touch with the factory. They will, of course, question Teresa, to whom we must give instructions. If I pursue our first course I shall tell the story of the finding of Ricky to Mr. Oberon and his guests and I shall utter many maledictions against Callard as a child-kidnapper. And, having seen Miss Truebody, I must appear to go away and somehow or another remain. I’ve no idea how this can be done. Perhaps, if one had a colleague within the place one might manage it. The alternative is for me, and you, Raoul, to go secretly to the Château. To do this we would again need a colleague who would admit and conceal us.”

Raoul put his head on one side with the air of a collector examining a doubtful treasure. “Monsieur refers, of course, to Teresa,” he said.

“I do.”

“Teresa,” Raoul continued anxiously, “has not displayed herself to advantage this afternoon. She was
bouleversée
and therefore behaved foolishly. Nevertheless, she is normally a girl of spirit. She is also at the present time desirous of reestablishing herself in my heart. Possibly I have been too lenient with her but one inclines to leniency where one’s affections are engaged. I have, as Monsieur knows, forbidden her return to this temple of shame. Nevertheless, where the cause is just and with the protection of Our Lady of Paysdoux (about whose patronage Teresa is so unbecomingly cocksure), there can be no sin.”

“I take it,” Alleyn said, “that you withdraw your objection?”

“Yes, Monsieur. Not without misgivings because Teresa is dear to me and, say what you like, it is no place for one’s girl.”

“Judging by the lacerations in Georges Mattel’s face, Teresa is able to defend herself on occasion.”

“True,” Raoul agreed, cheering up. “She has enterprise.”

“Suppose we talk to her about it?”

“I will produce her.”

Raoul went out to the kitchen.

“Hallo, you two,” Alleyn said.

“Hallo, yourself,” Troy said.

“Daddy, this is a lavish book. I can read it better than Mummy.”

“Don’t buck,” Alleyn said automatically.

“Have you sent Raoul to get that nanny-person? Teresa?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We’ve got a job for her.”


Not
minding me?”

“No, no. Nothing to do with you, old boy.”

“Well, good, anyway,” said Ricky returning to his book.

Raoul came back with Teresa, who now wore an apron and seemed to be in remarkably high spirits. On Alleyn’s invitation she sat down using, however, the very edge of her chair. Alleyn told her briefly what he wanted her to do. Raoul folded his arms and scowled thoughtfully at the tablecloth.

“You see, Teresa,” Alleyn said, “these are bad men and also unfortunately extremely clever men. They think they’ve made a fool of you as they have of a great many other silly girls. The thing is — are you ready to help Raoul and me and the police of your own country to put a stop to their wickedness?”

“Ah, yes, Monsieur,” said Teresa cheerfully. “I now perceive my duty and with the help of Raoul and the holy saints, dedicate myself to the cause.”

“Good. Do you think you can keep your head and behave sensibly and with address if an emergency should arise?”

Teresa gazed at him and said that she thought she could.

“Very well. Now, tell me: were you on duty last evening?”

“Yes, Monsieur. During the dinner I helped the housemaids go round the bedrooms and then I worked in the kitchen.”

“Was there a party?”

“A party? Well, Monsieur, there was the new guest, Mlle. Wells, who is an actress. And after dinner there was a gathering of all the guests in the private apartments of M. Oberon. I know this because I heard the butler say that Monsieur wished it made ready for a special welcome for Mlle. Wells. And this morning,” said Teresa, looking prim, “Jeanne Barre, who is an under-housemaid, said that Mlle. Locke, the English noblewoman, must have taken too much wine because her door was locked with a notice not to disturb and this is always a sign she has been indiscreet.”

“I see. Tell me, Teresa: have you ever seen into the room that is only opened on Thursday night?”

“Yes, Monsieur. On Thursday morning I dust this room and on Fridays it is my duty to clean it.”

“Where is it exactly?”

“It is down the stairs, three flights, from the vestibule, and beneath the library. It is next to the private apartments of M. Oberon.”

“Has it many windows?”

“It has no windows, Monsieur. It is in a very old part of the Château.”

“And M. Oberon’s rooms?”

“Oh, yes, Monsieur. The salon has a window which is covered always by a white blind with a painting of the sun because Monsieur dislikes a brilliant light, so it is always closed. But Monsieur has nevertheless a great lamp fashioned like the sun and many strange ornaments and a strange wheel which Monsieur treasures and a magnificent bed and in the salon a rich divan,” said Teresa, warming to her subject, “and an enormous mirror where—” There she stopped short and blushed.

“Continue,” Raoul ordered, with a face of thunder.

“Where once when I took in
petit déjeuner
I saw Monsieur contemplating himself in a state of nature.”

Alleyn, with an eye on Raoul, said hurriedly, “Will you describe the room that you clean?”

Raoul reached across the table and moved his forefinger to and fro in front of his beloved’s nose. “Choose your words, my treasure,” he urged. “Invent nothing. Accuracy is all.”

“Yes, indeed it is,” said Alleyn heartily.

Thus warned, Teresa looked self-consciously at her folded hands and with a slightly sanctimonious air began her recital.

“If you please, Monsieur, it is a large room and at first I thought perhaps it was a chapel.”


A chapel
?” Alleyn exclaimed. Raoul made a composite noise suggestive of angry incredulity.

“Yes, Monsieur. I thought perhaps it was reserved for the private devotions of M. Oberon and his friends. Because at one side is a raised place with a table like the holy altar, covered in a cloth which is woven in a rich pattern with gold and silver and jewels. But although one saw the holy cross, there were other things in the pattern that one does not see in altar cloths.”

“The hoof prints of anathema!” Raoul ejaculated.

“Go on, Teresa,” said Alleyn.

“And on the table there was something that was also covered with an embroidered cloth.”

“What was that, do you suppose?”

Teresa’s white eyelids were raised. She gave Alleyn the glance of a cunning child.

“Monsieur must not think badly of me if I tell him I raised the cloth and looked. Because I wanted to see if it was a holy relic.”

“And was it?”

“No, Monsieur. At first I thought it was a big monstrance made of glass. Only it was not a monstrance although in shape it resembled a great sun and inside the sun a holy cross broken and a figure like this.”

With a sort of disgusted incredulity Alleyn watched her trace with her finger on the table, a pentagram. Raoul groaned heavily.

“And it was, as I saw when I looked more closely, Monsieur, a great lamp because there were many, many electric bulbs behind it and behind the sun at the back Was a bigger electric bulb than I have ever seen before. So I dropped the heavy cloth over it and wondered.”

“What else did you see?”

“There was nothing else in the room, Monsieur. No chairs or any furniture or anything. The walls were covered with black velvet and there were no pictures.”

“Any doors, other than the one leading from Mr. Oberon’s room?”

“Yes, Monsieur. There was a door in the wall opposite the table. I didn’t notice it the first time I cleaned the room because it is covered like the walls and had no handle. But the second time it was open and I was told to clean the little room beyond.”

“What was it like, this room?”

“On the floor there were many black velvet cushions and one large one like the mattress for a divan. And the walls here also were covered in black velvet and there was a black velvet curtain behind which were hanging a great number of white robes such as the robe Monsieur wears and one black velvet robe. And on the table there were many candles in black candlesticks which I had to clean. There was also a door from the passage into this little room.”

“Nastier and nastier,” Alleyn muttered in English.

“I beg Monsieur’s pardon?”

“Nothing. And this was the only other door into the big room?”

“No, Monsieur, there was another, very small like a trapdoor behind the table, painted with signs like the signs on the sunlamp and on the floor.”

“There were signs on the floor?”

“Yes, Monsieur. I had been told to clean the floor, Monsieur. It is a beautiful floor with a pattern made of many pieces of stone and the pattern is the same as the other.” Her finger traced the pentagram again. “And when I came to clean it, Monsieur, I knew the room was not a chapel.”

“Why?”

“Because the floor in front of the table was as dirty as a farmyard,” said Teresa. “It was like our yard at my home in the Paysdoux. There had been an animal in the room.”

“An animal!” Raoul ejaculated. “I believe you! And what sort of animal?”

“That was easy to see,” said Teresa simply. “It was a goat.”

 

iii

Alleyn decided finally that the following evening he and Raoul would call at the Chèvre d’Argent. He would arrive after the hour of six when, according to Teresa, the entire household would have retired for something known as private meditation, but which was supposed by Teresa to be a sound sleep. It was unusual at this time for anyone to appear, and indeed again, according to Teresa, a rule of silence and solitude was imposed from six until nine by Mr. Oberon. On Thursdays there was no dinner, but Teresa understood that there was a very late supper at which the guests were served by the Egyptian servant only. Teresa herself was dismissed with the other servants as soon as their late afternoon and early evening tasks were executed. If they didn’t encounter any member of the household on their way through the tunnel Alleyn and Raoul were to go past the main entrance and down a flight of steps to a little-used door through which Teresa would admit them. No attention would be paid to Raoul if he was seen by any other servants who might still be about, and if Alleyn kept in the background it might be possible to suggest that he was a relative from Marseilles. “A distinguished relative,” Raoul amended, “seeing that in appearance and in speech Monsieur is clearly of a superior class.”

Teresa would then conceal Alleyn and Raoul in her own room where, with any luck, she would have already secreted two of the white robes. She was pretty certain there were many more in the little ante-room than would be needed by M. Oberon’s guests. It would be tolerably easy when she cleaned this room to remove them under cover of the laundry it was her duty to collect from the bedrooms.

“Is it not as I have said, Monsieur?” Raoul remarked, indicated his fiancée. “She is not without enterprise, is Teresa?” Teresa looked modestly at Alleyn and passionately at Raoul.

If all went well, up to this point, Teresa would have done as much as could be expected of her. She would take her departure as usual and could either wait in Raoul’s car or catch the evening bus to her home in Paysdoux. It should be possible for Alleyn and Raoul to pass through the house without attracting attention. The cowls of their robes would be drawn over their heads and it might be supposed if they were seen that they were belated guests or even early arrivals for the ceremony. Teresa had heard that occasionally there were extra people on Thursday nights, people staying in Roqueville or in St. Christophe.

And then? “Then,” Alleyn said, “it will be up to us, Raoul.”

The alternative to this plan was tricky. If he was spotted on his way into the Chèvre d’Argent, Alleyn would put a bold face on it and say that he had come to see Miss Truebody. No doubt Baradi would be summoned from his private meditation and Alleyn would have to act upon the situations as they arose. Raoul would still call on Teresa and hide in her room.

“All right,” Alleyn said. “That’s as far as we need go. Now Teresa, this evening you will return to the Château and Mr. Oberon will no doubt question you about today’s proceedings. You will tell him exactly what happened at the factory, up to and after the identification parade. You will tell him that Ricky identified you. Then, you will say, the police made you come back to Roqueville and asked you many questions, accusing you of complicity in the former kidnapping affair and asking who were your colleagues in that business. You will say that you told the police you know nothing: that Georges Martel offered you a little money to fetch the boy and beyond that you know nothing at all. This is important, Teresa. Repeat it, please.”

Teresa folded her hands and repeated it, prompted without necessity by Raoul.

“Excellent,” Alleyn said. “And you will, of course, have had no conversation with me. Perhaps it will be well to say, if you are asked, that you returned to Roqueville in Raoul’s car. You may have been seen doing so. But you will say that Madame and I were so overjoyed on recovering our son that we had nothing to say except that no doubt the police would deal with you.”

BOOK: Spinsters in Jeopardy
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