The Devil in Music (59 page)

"Three,"
she replied. "The two across from Rinaldo's your own and
Carlo's and the one next door, which is shared by Signor St. Carr
and Signor Fletcher."

Grimani
turned to Carlo. "Did you know those four rooms had locks in
common?"

"I
arranged it, Signor Commissario," said Carlo calmly. "The
villa used to be mine, remember. Some of my guests found it
convenient."

"What
about the rooms at the other end of the corridor?" said
Grimani. "Do they have keys in common?"

"No,"
said the marchesa. "Monsieur de la Marque's, my own, and the
one across from mine, occupied by Signor Kestrel and Dr. MacGregor,
all have keys that open only their own locks."

"Are
there spare keys to Marchese Rinaldo's room?" Grimani pursued.

"I
have several," she said coolly.

"Where
are they kept?"

"In
a box in my room."

"Is
any of them missing?"

"I
have no idea."

"I'll
look into that directly I finish this interrogation. Now I wish to
know from all of you where you were between the hours of one and five
o'clock this morning."

Beatrice,
Carlo, Fletcher, St. Carr, and de la Marque all claimed to have been
asleep in their rooms. So did Donati and Sebastiano, who in any case
slept on the floor below and did not have a key that fit Rinaldo's
lock. Donati declared, moreover, that he slept very lightly and
would have heard if Sebastiano had left their room during the night.

"And
you, Signor Kestrel?" Grimani proceeded.

"Dr.
MacGregor and I were in our room as well."

"And
neither of us could have left without waking the other,"
MacGregor added, "because Kestrel had put a chair against the
door, with the back tucked under the knob."

"Why
did you do that?" Grimani asked Julian.

Julian
wished MacGregor had not brought this up. Their precautions last
night seemed absurd, now that it was so clear the danger had not been
to them. But MacGregor responded eagerly, "Because Monsieur de
la Marque threatened Kestrel before he left our room last night!"

The
Frenchman's black brows rose as high as they would go. "Threatened
him? How, my dear Doctor, did I do that?"

"You
know very well," retorted MacGregor. "You said I might
want to say goodbye to him while I had the chance."

"Oh,
yes," murmured De la Marque. "I did say that. I suppose I
was a little out of temper. I crave your pardon, Mr. Kestrel."

"You
may have it, Monsieur de la Marque."

They
bowed ceremoniously to one another.

"None
of you has a satisfactory alibi," said Grimani.

"We
haven't heard your alibi yet, Commissario," said Beatrice.

"I
am not obliged to set up an alibi, Marchesa."

"I
don't see why not," objected Carlo. "Your being a police
official doesn't place you above the law. Your room is across from
my nephew's, and your key matches his. We have a right to know where
you were between one and five this morning."

"As
usual, Signor Conte, you confuse liberal bombast with law. This is
my investigation, and I am accountable for my conduct of it only to
the Director-General of Police."

"It
isn't your conduct of the investigation I'm challenging," Carlo
flashed back. "I'm suggesting that you're a suspect like the
rest of us and ought to have to answer the same questions."

"I
beg to differ, Signor Conte. I am not a suspect 'like the rest of
you." I didn't know my key opened Marchese Rinaldo's door.
What is more, I had no motive to kill either him or Marchese
Lodovico. You, on the other hand, knew about the matching keys.
Furthermore, in the past five years, two of the three people who
stood between you and the Malvezzi title and lands have been brutally
murdered, leaving only the child Niccolo."

"How
dare you?" Carlo shook with rage. "How dare you! This is
beyond all bearing! Do you realize who I am? Do you know that my
ancestors stood high in rank and honour in the days of the Visconti,

when
yours were peasants labouring in their vineyards and begging at their
doors?"

Julian
regarded Carlo more closely. For all his liberalism, he was exactly
like his brother under the skin: a proud, imperious patrician.

"I
mean no disrespect to your rank," said Grimani imperturbably.
"But I have a duty to the Viceroy of Lombardy-Venetia to
investigate and solve these murders. And in his name, I wish to know
where the key to your room was between one and five o'clock last
night."

"I
care nothing for you or your Viceroy," said Carlo. "But in
the name of truth, I will say that I believe my key was in the lock
on the inner side of my door. That's where I usually leave it. But
I'm not certain. I wasn't expecting anyone to make off with it."

"Signer
Fletcher and Signer St. Carr." Grimani turned to the two
Englishmen. "Where was your key?"

St.
Carr opened his mouth to speak, but Fletcher cut him off. "I
locked the door and put the key in my dressing-gown pocket. It was
still there this morning."

"Why
did you put it there?" asked Grimani.

"It
seemed as good a place for it as any."

"Are
you in the habit of leaving your bedroom key in your dressing gown
pocket?"

"Not
particularly," said Fletcher.

"Why
did you lock the door at all? Had someone threatened your life,
too?"

"I
rarely threaten more than one person's life in an evening,"
remarked de la Marque.

"Look
here, Mr. Commissario " began St. Carr.

"Take
a damper, Beverley," said Fletcher.

"But,
Hugo, he's implying that you're trying it on with him. And I can
back you. Everything Mr. Fletcher said is true, Commissario. I
found the door locked when I got up this morning and asked Hugo where
the key was, and he fished it out of his dressing-gown pocket."

"You
didn't know he'd locked the two of you in?" said Grimani
quickly.

"No,
he must have done it " St. Carr broke off.

"After
you were asleep?" prompted Grimani.

St.
Carr was silent.

Grimani
turned his ice-water eyes on Fletcher. "Why did you lock the
door without telling him? Were you afraid he would leave the room
during the night?"

"It
was just a precaution. I only thought of it after he'd gone to
sleep."

"So
you knew where the key was, and he didn't. Did you leave the room
during the night?"

Fletcher
glanced toward de la Marque, who was regarding him with amused,
expectant eyes. "Yes," he owned reluctantly. "I went
downstairs for a short time."

"When
was that?" asked Grimani.

"I
didn't look at a clock. It was well after everyone had gone to bed."

"It
was about a quarter to three," said de la Marque.

"How
do you know that?" said Grimani.

"Because
I heard Mr. Fletcher coming up the stairs, which are next to my
room, and came out to see who was wandering about at that hour."

"What
were you doing awake?" Grimani asked.

"I
wasn't awake," said de la Marque. "I was sleeping the
blissful sleep of the just. Mr. Fletcher's footsteps woke me."

"What
did you do?"

"We
exchanged a few words. I believe I asked him if the maidservants are
as compliant as they are pretty. He didn't seem to find that
amusing. He begged my pardon for waking me, and I went back to bed.
Voild tout."

Grimani
turned back to Fletcher. "Why did you go downstairs?"

"I
heard a shutter banging and went to close it."

St.
Carr drew in his breath sharply.

"Where
was this shutter?" asked Grimani.

"Just
below our room," said Fletcher, "in the music room."

"Was
it a south-facing shutter?"

"I
I really can't recall."

"Can't
you?" Grimani's eyes bored into him. "If it was a
southfacing shutter, you might have seen Marchesa Francesca climbing
down from the balcony and known you would find Marchese Rinaldo
alone."

"Why
should I care if he was alone? I hardly knew him. I hadn't a
blessed thing to say to him."

"Did
you take a candle with you when you left your room?"

"Yes."

"So
you had a key that opened Marchese Rinaldo's door "

"I
didn't know I had," interrupted Fletcher.

"
and you could have dripped wax on his sheet. When Monsieur

de
la Marque saw you, were you returning from fastening the shutter or
from unbarring the front door, to make it appear that Marchesa
Francesca committed the murder?"

"You've
got it all wrong," broke in St. Carr in a shaking voice. "I'm
the one who went downstairs to fasten the shutter. If Hugo got up,
it must have been only to look for me."

"Don't
be silly," said Fletcher.

"It's
true! Stop being so deuced heroic! My parents asked you to look
after me, not to make a confounded martyr of yourself! Mr.
Commissario, I couldn't sleep, and that shutter was plaguing my life
out, so I said I was going to go downstairs and fasten it, and Hugo
half woke up and grunted something. I lit a candle at the lamp
that's kept burning in the hall, then I went downstairs, fastened the
shutter, and came straight back."

"Was
Mr. Fletcher there when you returned?" asked Grimani.

"I
don't know. I didn't look to see. I just put out the candle and
went to sleep."

"What
have you to say to that, Signer Fletcher?" said Grimani.

Fletcher
bit his lip. "All right. I admit it I came fully awake after
he was gone and didn't like the idea of his knocking about the house
alone at that hour, so I went looking for him. I suppose we missed
each other somehow, because I came back to our room to see if he'd
returned, and he was there asleep." Fletcher shook his head in
some exasperation. "I locked the door so he couldn't stray off
again, and hid the key in my dressing-gown pocket. Neither of us can
have been gone more than a few minutes."

"How
do you know how long he was gone?" Grimani challenged him.
"Can you say for certain how much time passed between his
leaving and your waking up and going after him?"

"I
think it was only a minute."

"But
you don't know?"

"No,"
ground out Fletcher.

Grimani's
cold glance took in Fletcher, St. Carr, and de la Marque. "So
none of you has a complete alibi, and you all left your rooms last
night."

"I
beg leave to point out," said de la Marque, "I merely came
to my door to speak to Mr. Fletcher. And as I don't have a key that
fits Marchese Rinaldo's lock, how are you suggesting I might have got
into his room?"

"If
Marchesa Francesca killed him and went out by the door, you would
have found it unlocked."

De
la Marque opened his eyes at Grimani. "But in that case, my
dear Commissario, what am I supposed to have done? Gone in, found
him horribly slaughtered, and decided it would really be a shame to
wake everyone from a sound sleep?"

"I
haven't yet determined what you might have done. But you did have
reason to want to speak to him. You said last night that you never
got your notebook back after Marchese Lodovico's death. Marchese
Rinaldo might have had it or known where it was."

"What
notebook?" the marchesa asked quickly.

"A
musical notebook that Monsieur de la Marque kept, and that Marchese
Lodovico borrowed without his permission."