Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 9: Clutch of Constables, When in Rome, Tied Up in Tinsel

‘No, no,’ Troy said. ‘Not at all. Not now.’

‘You mean not now your husband is here. Of course. But I think he will be very much occupied. You must forgive me for my persistence but – why not a room at the inn in Ramsdyke? Or even in Norminster? It is not far.’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Alleyn said, ‘but there are difficulties. If my wife is given leave –’

‘Some of us may also demand it? If you will allow me I’ll suggest that she should go immediately and I’ll say that as her medical adviser, I insisted.’

‘Rory – would it be easier? It would, wouldn’t it? For you? For both of us?’

‘Yes, darling, it would.’

‘Well, then?’

She saw Alleyn give Natouche one utterly non-committal look of which the doctor appeared to be perfectly unaware. ‘I think you are right,’ Alleyn said. ‘I have been in two minds about it but I think you are right. How far is it by road to Norminster?’

‘Six miles and three-eighths,’ Natouche said.

‘How very well-informed!’

‘Dr Natouche is a map-maker,’ Troy said. ‘You must see what he’s doing.’

‘Love to,’ Alleyn agreed politely. ‘Where did you stay in Norminster, Troy? The Percy, was it?’

‘Yes.’

‘All right?’

‘Perfectly.’

‘I’ll ring it up from the lockhouse. If they’ve got a room I’ll send for a taxi. We’ll obey doctor’s orders.’

‘All right. But –’

‘What?’

‘I’ll feel as if I’m ratting. So will they.’

‘Let them.’

‘All right.’

‘Would you go down and pack, then?’

‘Yes. All right.’ They could say nothing to each other, Troy thought, but ‘all right’.

She went down to her cabin.

Natouche said: ‘I hope you didn’t mind my making this suggestion. Your wife commands an unusual degree of self-discipline, I think, but she really has had as much as she should be asked to take. I may say that some of the passengers would not be inclined to make matters any easier for her if she stayed.’

‘No?’

‘They are, I think, a little suspicious of the lost fur.’

‘I can’t blame them,’ Alleyn said dryly.

‘Perhaps,’ Natouche continued, ‘I should say this. If you find, as I think you will, that Miss Rickerby-Carrick was murdered I fully realize that I come into the field of suspects. Of course I do. I only mention this in case you should think that I try to put myself in an exclusive position by speaking as a doctor in respect of your wife.’

‘Do you suppose,’ Alleyn asked carefully, ‘that any of the others think it may be a case of homicide?’

‘They do not confide in me, but I should undoubtedly think so. Yes.’

‘And they suspect that they will come into the field of inquiry?’

‘They would be extremely stupid if they did not expect to do so,’ he said. ‘And by and large I don’t find they are stupid people. Although at least three of them will certainly begin to suspect me of killing Miss Rickerby-Carrick.’

‘Why?’

‘Briefly: because I am an Ethiopian and they would prefer that I, rather than a white member of the company, should be found guilty.’

Alleyn listened to the huge voice, looked at the impassive face and wondered if this was a manifestation of inverted racialism or of sober judgment.

‘I hope you’re mistaken,’ he said.

‘And so, of course, do I,’ said Dr Natouche.

‘By the way, Troy tells me you found a scrap of material on deck.’

‘Ah, yes. You would like to see it? It’s here.’

He took out his pocket-book and extracted an envelope. ‘Shall I show you where it was?’ he asked.

‘Please.’

They went to the after-end of the deck.

‘The mattress was inflated,’ Natouche explained, ‘and lying where it had been when she used it. Mrs Alleyn noticed this fragment. It was caught under the edge of the pillow pocket. You will see that it is stained, presumably with river water. It seemed to me that Miss Rickerby-Carrick had probably taken her diary with her when she came up here to bed and that this piece of the cover, if it is that, became detached. The book was of course, saturated. I noted the cloth of its cover was torn when Lazenby rescued it. Your wife thought we should keep the fragment.’

‘Yes, she told me. Thank you. I must get on with my unlovely job. I am very much obliged to you, Dr Natouche, for having taken care of Troy.’

‘Please! I was most honoured that she placed a little confidence in me. I think,’ he added, ‘that I shall stroll up to the wapentake. If you’ll excuse me.’

Alleyn watched him take an easy stride from the gunwale of the Zodiac to the grassy bank and noticed the perfect co-ordination of movement and the suggestion of unusual strength. Alleyn was visited by an odd notion: ‘Suppose’ he thought, ‘he just went on. Suppose he became an Ethiopian in a canary-coloured sweater striding over historic English fens and out of our field of inquiry. Ah well, he’s extremely conspicuous, after all.’

He looked downstream towards the weir and could see Fox and the local sergeant moving about the tow-path. Fox stooped over a wayside patch of bramble and presently righted himself with an air that Alleyn even at that distance, recognized as one of mild satisfaction. He turned, saw Alleyn and raised a hand, thumb up.

Alleyn went ashore, telephoned the Percy Hotel at Norminster, booked a room and ordered a taxi for Troy. When he returned to the Zodiac he found it deserted except for Troy who had packed her bags and was waiting for him in her cabin.

Half an hour later he put her in her taxi and she drove away from Ramsdyke. Her fellow-passengers, except for Dr Natouche, were sitting round an outdoor table at the pub. The Hewsons, Mr Lazenby and Mr Pollock had their heads together. Caley Bard slouched back dejectedly in his chair and gazed into a beer pot.