Off With His Head

Off With His Head
Ngaio Marsh

Pagan revelry and morris dancing in the middle of a very cold winter set the scene for one of Ngaio Marsh’s most fascinating murder mysteries.When the pesky Anna Bünz arrives at Mardian to investigate the rare survival of folk-dancing still practised there, she quickly antagonizes the villagers. But Mrs Bünz is not the only source of friction – two of the other enthusiasts are also spoiling for a fight.When the sword dancers’ traditional mock beheading of the Winter Solstice becomes horribly real, Superintendent Roderick Alleyn finds himself faced with a case of great complexity and of gruesome proportions…

Ngaio Marsh

Off With His Head

Copyright (#ulink_181539e9-94c5-56fa-a2eb-86f6f80499d4)

HARPER

an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2009 Off With His Head first published in Great Britain by Collins 1957

Copyright © Ngaio Marsh Ltd 1956

Ngaio Marsh asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of these works

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author–s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

Source ISBN: 9780006512455

Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2009 ISBN: 9780007344727

Version: 2018–04–03

Contents

Cover (#u0873ec49-59c1-5625-86ab-72dacff6cd2e)

Title Page (#u903a47c0-1b49-5be7-a64b-e10552c75cfb)

Copyright (#ub236b336-f32c-5f9d-84a1-a6a822cbbf69)

Cast of Characters (#u0020f560-61c8-5e61-aaa7-7698e63d05f0)

Author’s Note (#u1c0aaefc-39d8-5a05-ba44-397ed7d24816)

1 Winter Solstice (#u8b60e718-be99-526b-a4eb-a0886c88652a)

2 Camilla (#uaca59b3e-028f-5806-be42-3490598975d7)

3 Preparation (#ubcd8e92a-2996-5715-975c-2a30c1202d12)

4 The Swords Are Out (#ud56b1d17-a92f-5f3b-90e5-93bc382807dc)

5 Aftermath (#litres_trial_promo)

6 Copse Forge (#litres_trial_promo)

7 The Green Man (#litres_trial_promo)

8 Question of Fact (#litres_trial_promo)

9 Question of Fancy (#litres_trial_promo)

10 Dialogue for a Dancer (#litres_trial_promo)

11 Question of Temperament (#litres_trial_promo)

12 The Swords Again (#litres_trial_promo)

13 The Swords Go In (#litres_trial_promo)

Keep Reading (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Cast of Characters (#ulink_1b440c01-97b9-58da-a8a5-0f974603861e)

Author’s Note (#ulink_63032318-6b6f-544a-9bc1-73a631c7a0f7)

To anybody with the smallest knowledge of folklore it will be obvious that the Dance of the Five Sons is a purely imaginary synthesis combining in most unlikely profusion the elements of several dances and mumming plays. For information on these elements I am indebted, among many other sources, to England’s Dances by Douglas Kennedy and Introduction to English Folklore by Violet Alford.

N.M.

CHAPTER 1 (#ulink_9e128d65-0975-56d0-8c19-1d4531692169)

Winter Solstice (#ulink_9e128d65-0975-56d0-8c19-1d4531692169)

Over that part of England the Winter Solstice came down with a bitter antiphony of snow and frost. Trees, minutely articulate, shuddered in the north wind. By four o’clock in the afternoon the people of South Mardian were all indoors.

It was at four o’clock that a small dogged-looking car appeared on a rise above the village and began to sidle and curvet down the frozen lane. Its driver, her vision distracted by wisps of grey hair escaping from a headscarf, peered through the fan-shaped clearing on her windscreen. Her woolly paws clutched rather than commanded the wheel. She wore, in addition to several scarves of immense length, a handspun cloak. Her booted feet tramped about over brake and clutch-pedal, her lips moved soundlessly and from time to time twitched into conciliatory smiles. Thus she arrived in South Mardian and bumped to a standstill before a pair of gigantic gates.

They were of wrought-iron and beautiful but they were tied together with a confusion of shopkeeper’s twine. Through them, less than a quarter of a mile away, she saw on a white hillside, the shell of a Norman castle, theatrically erected against a leaden sky. Partly encircled by this ruin was a hideous Victorian mansion.

The traveller consulted her map. There could be no doubt about it. This was Mardian Castle. It took some time in that deadly cold to untangle the string. Snow had mounted up the far side and she had to shove hard before she could open the gates wide enough to admit her car. Having succeeded and driven through, she climbed out again to shut them.