Spinsters in Jeopardy

‘I’ll speak to him. If he seems at all possible I’ll bring him in to see you. Would you like to stroll back to the car with me, darling?’

‘Please don’t disturb yourselves,’ Dr Baradi begged them. ‘One of the servants will fetch your man.’

Troy knew that her husband was in two minds about this suggestion and also about leaving her to cope with Dr Baradi. She said: ‘You go, Rory, will you? I’m longing for my sun-glasses and they’re locked away in my dressing-case.’

She gave him her keys and a ferocious smile. ‘I think, perhaps, I’ll have a look at Miss Truebody,’ she added.

He grimaced at her and walked out quickly.

Troy went to Ricky. She touched his forehead and found it moist. His sleep was profound and when she opened the front of his shirt he did not stir. She stayed, lightly swinging the seat, and watched him, and she thought with tenderness that he was her defence in a stupid situation which fatigue and a confusion of spirit, brought about by many untoward events, had perhaps created in her imagination. It was ridiculous, she thought, to feel anything but amused by her embarrassment. She knew that Baradi watched her and she turned and faced him.

‘If there is anything I can do before I go,’ she said and kept her voice down because of Ricky, ‘I hope you’ll tell me.’

It was a mistake to speak softly. He at once moved towards her and with an assumption of intimacy, lowered his own voice. ‘But how helpful!’ he said, ‘so we shall have you with us for a little longer? That is good; though it should not be to perform these unlovely tasks.’

‘I hope I’m equal to them.’ She moved away from Ricky and raised her voice. ‘What are they?’

‘She must be prepared for the operation.’

He told her what should be done and explained that she would find everything she needed for her purpose in Miss Truebody’s bathroom. In giving these specifically clinical instructions, he reverted to his professional manner, but with an air of amusement that she found distasteful. When he had finished she said: ‘Then I’ll get her fixed up now, shall I?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, more to himself than to her. ‘Yes, certainly, we shouldn’t delay too long.’ And seeing a look of preoccupation and responsibility on his face, she left him, disliking him less in that one moment than at any time since they had met. As she went down the stone stairway she thought: ‘Thank heaven, at least, for the Queen of Sheba.’

II

Alleyn found their driver in his vest and trousers on the running-board of the car. A medallion of St Christopher dangled from a steel chain above the mat of hair on his chest. He was exchanging improper jokes with a young woman and two small boys who, when he rose to salute his employer, drifted away without embarrassment. He gave Alleyn a look that implied a common understanding of women, and opened the car door.

Alleyn said: ‘We’re not going yet. What is your name?’

‘Raoul, Monsieur. Raoul Milano.’

‘You’ve been a soldier, perhaps?’

‘Yes, Monsieur. I am thirty-three and therefore I have seen some service.’

‘So your stomach is not easily outraged; then; by a show of blood, for instance? By a formidable wound, shall we say?’

‘I was a medical orderly, Monsieur. My stomach also, is an old campaigner.’

‘Excellent! I have a job for you, Raoul. It is to assist Dr Baradi, the gentleman you have already seen. He is about to remove Mademoiselle’s appendix and since we cannot find a second doctor, we must provide unqualified assistants. If you will help us there may be a little reward and certainly there will be much grace in performing this service. What do you say?’

Raoul looked down at his blunt hands and then up at Alleyn:

‘I say yes, M’sieur. As you suggest, it is an act of grace and in any case one may as well do something.’

‘Good. Come along then.’ Alleyn had found Troy’s sunglasses. He and Raoul turned towards the passage, Raoul slinging his coat across his shoulders with the grace of a ballet-dancer.

‘So you live in Roqueville?’ Alleyn asked.

‘In Roqueville, M’sieur. My parents have a little café, not at all smart, but the food is good and I also hire myself out in my car, as you see.’

‘You’ve been up to the château before, of course?’

‘Certainly. For little expeditions and also to drive guests and sometimes tourists. As a rule Mr Oberon sends a car for his guests.’ He waved a hand at a row of garage-doors, incongruously set in a rocky face at the back of the platform. ‘His cars are magnificent.’

Alleyn said: ‘The Commissaire at the Préfecture sent you to meet us, I think?’

‘That is so, M’sieur.’

‘Did he give you my name?’

‘Yes, M’sieur L’Inspecteur-en-Chef. It is Ahrr-lin. But he said that M’sieur L’Inspecteur-en-Chef would prefer, perhaps, that I did not use his rank.’

‘I would greatly prefer it, Raoul.’

‘It is already forgotten, M’sieur.’

‘Again, good.’

They passed the cave-like room, where the woman sat among her figurines. Raoul hailed her in a cheerful manner and she returned his greeting. ‘You must bring your gentleman in to see my statues,’ she shouted. He called back over his shoulder: ‘All in good time, Marie,’ and added, ‘she is an artist, that one. Her saints are pretty and of assistance in one’s devotions; but then she overcharges ridiculously, which is not so amusing.’

He sang a stylish little cadence and tilted up his head. They were walking beneath a part of the Château de la Chèvre d’Argent that straddled the passageway. ‘It goes everywhere, this house,’ he remarked. ‘One would need a map to find one’s way from the kitchen to the best bedroom. Anything might happen.’

When they reached the entrance he stood aside and took off his chauffeur’s cap. They found Dr Baradi in the hall. Alleyn told him that Raoul had been a medical orderly and Baradi at once described the duties he would be expected to perform. His manner was cold and uncompromising. Raoul gave him his full attention. He stood easily, his thumbs crooked in his belt. He retained at once his courtesy, his natural grace of posture and his air of independence.

‘Well,’ Baradi said sharply when he had finished: ‘Are you capable of this work?’

‘I believe so, M’sieur le Docteur.’

‘If you prove to be satisfactory, you will be given 500 francs. That is extremely generous payment for unskilled work.’

‘As to payment M’sieur le Docteur,’ Raoul said, ‘I am already employed by this gentleman and consider myself entirely at his disposal. It is at his request that I engaged myself in this task.’

Baradi raised his eyebrows and looked at Alleyn. ‘Evidently an original,’ he said in English. ‘He seems tolerably intelligent but one never knows. Let us hope that he is at least not too stupid. My man will give him suitable clothes and see that he is clean’

He went to the fireplace and pulled a tapestry bell-rope. ‘Mrs Allen;’ he said, ‘is most kindly preparing our patient. There is a room at your disposal and I venture to lend you one of my gowns. It will, I’m afraid, be terribly voluminous but perhaps some adjustment can be made. We are involved in compromise, isn’t it?’

A man wearing the dress of an Egyptian house-servant came in. Baradi spoke to him in his own language, and then to Raoul in French: ‘Go with Mahomet and prepare yourself in accordance with his instructions. He speaks French.’ Raoul acknowledged this direction with something between a bow and a nod. He said to Alleyn: ‘Monsieur will perhaps excuse me?’ and followed the servant, looking about the room with interest as he left it.

Baradi said: ‘Italian blood there, I think. One comes across these hybrids along the coast. May I show you to my room?’

It was in the same passage as Miss Truebody’s but a little farther along it. In Alleyn the trick of quick observation was a professional habit. He saw not only the general sumptuousness of the room but the details also: the Chinese wallpaper, a Wu Tao-tzu scroll, a Ming vase.

‘This,’ Dr Baradi needlessly explained, ‘is known as the Chinese room but, as you will observe, Mr Oberon does not hesitate to introduce modulation. The bureau is by Vernis-Martin.’

‘A modulation, as you say, but an enchanting one. The cabinet there is a bolder departure. It looks like a Mussonier.’

‘One of his pupils, I understand. You have a discerning eye. Mr Oberon will be delighted.’