Страница 70 из 71
“I mean the weapon. On the morning after the murder I asked to see Davidson’s case. He showed me a cigarette-case that was certainly too small for the job and said it was the one he had carried last night. I noticed how immaculate it was, looked closely at it, and found traces of plate-powder in the tooling. We learnt that Davidson’s cases were cleaned the morning before the ball and had not been touched after the ball. It seemed to me that this case had certainly not been out all night. It shone like a mirror and I would have sworn had not been used since it was put in his pocket. It was a thin bit of evidence but it did look as if he had lied when he said it was the case he took to Marsdon House. And then there was the condition — is Mildred asleep?”
“Yes,” said Lady Mildred. “Do you mind very much, dear Roderick, if I go to bed? I’m afraid I shall never understand, you see, and I am really so very tired. I think sorrow is one of the most tiring things, don’t you? Troy, my dear, you will look after poor Roderick, won’t you? Donald will be in late and I don’t know where he is just now.”
“I think he took Bridget Carrados home,” said Alleyn, opening the door for Mildred. “Evelyn and her husband wanted to be alone and Donald was in the waiting-room looking hopeful.”
“He seems to be very attached to her,” said Mildred, pausing at the door and looking at Alleyn with tear-stained eyes. “Is she a nice girl, Roderick?”
“Very nice. I think she’ll look after him. Good night, Mildred.”
“Good night.”
Alleyn shut the door after her and returned to Troy.
“May I stay for a little longer?”
“Yes, please. I want to hear the end of it all.” Troy looked sideways at him. “How extraordinarily well-trained your eye must be! To notice the grains of plate-powder in the tooling of a cigarette-case; could anything be more admirable? What else did you notice?”
“I notice that although your eyes are grey there are little flecks of green in them and that the iris is ringed with black. I notice that when you smile your face goes crooked. I notice that the third finger of your left hand has a little spot of vermillion on the inside where a ring should hide it; and from that, Miss Troy, I deduce that you are a painter in oils and are not so proud as you should be of your lovely fingers.”
“Please tell me the end of the case.”
“I would rather tell you that since this afternoon in the few spare moments I have had to spend upon it I have considered your case and that I have decided to take out a warrant for your arrest. The charge is impeding an officer of the law in the execution of his duty.”
“Don’t be so damned facetious,” said Troy.
“All right. Where was I?”
“You had got to the third point against Davidson.”
“Yes. The third point was in the method used in committing the crime. I don’t think Bunchy would mind if he knew that even while I described his poor little body I was thinking of the woman to whom I spoke. Do you? He was such an understanding person, wasn’t he, with just the right salty flavour of irony? I’m sure he knew how short-lived the first pang of sorrow really is if only people would confess as much. Well, Troy, the man who killed him knew how easy it was to asphyxiate people and I didn’t think many killers would know that. The only real mark of violence was the scar made by the cigarette-case. A doctor would realize how little force was needed and Bunchy’s doctor would know how great an ally that weak heart would be. Davidson told me about the condition of the heart because he knew I would discover he had examined Bunchy. He kept his head marvellously when I interviewed him, did Sir Daniel. He’s as clever as paint. We’re searching his house tonight. Fox is there now. I don’t think we’ll find anything except perhaps the lethal cigarette-case, but I’ve more hopes of Dimitri’s desk. I couldn’t get into that yesterday.”
“What about the cloak and hat?”
“That brings us to a very curious episode. We have searched for the cloak and hat ever since four o’clock yesterday morning and we have not found them. We did our usual routine stuff, going round all the dust-bin experts and so on and we also notified the parcels-post offices. This afternoon we heard of a parcel that had been dumped at the Main Western office during the rush hour yesterday. It was over-stamped with tuppe
“Somebody who gives receipts?”
“Bless me, if you’re not a clever old thing. Right as usual, said the Duchess. And who should give receipts but Sir Daniel, the fashionable physician? Who but he?”
“Dimitri for one.”
“I’m sorry to say that is perfectly true, darling. But when I was in Davidson’s waiting-room, I saw several of those things that I think are called illustrated brochures. They appealed for old clothes for the Central Chinese Medical Mission at God knows where. It is our purpose, my dear Troy, to get one of those brochures and write to the Central Chinese Mission asking for further information.”
“I wonder,” murmured Troy.
“And so, you may depend upon it, do I. There’s one other point which has been kindly elucidated by the gibbering Dimitri. This morning he sent his servant out for a Times. When we heard of this we had a look at The Times, too. We found the agony-column notice that I talked about when poor Mildred was trying not to go to sleep, and before I could tell you how much I approve of the solemn way you knit your brows when you listen to me. Now, this notice read like this: ‘Childie Darling. Living in exile. Longing. Only want Daughter. Daddy.’ A rum affair, we thought, and we noticed in our brilliant way that the initial letters read ‘CD. Lie low. D.D.’ which might not be too fancifully elaborated into ‘Colombo Dimitri, lie low, Daniel Davidson.’ And, in fact, Mr Dimitri confessed to this artless device. It was arranged, he says, that if anything unprecedented, untoward, unanticipated, ever occurred, Davidson would communicate with Dimitri in precisely this ma
“What about Dimitri and Withers?”
“They were taken to the charge-room, and duly charged. The one with blackmail, the other with ru
“What would have happened if Dimitri had kept quiet even though he did think you were going to arrest him for murder?”
“We would still have arrested him for blackmail, and would have had to plug away at Davidson on what we’d got. But Dimitri saw we had a clear case on the blackmail charge. He’d nothing to gain in protecting Davidson.”
“Do you think he really knows Davidson did the murder?”
“I think we shall find that Davidson tried to warn him against collecting Evelyn Carrados’s bag at the ball. Davidson saw Bunchy was with Evelyn, when Bridget returned her bag the first time.”
“You didn’t tell me about that.”
Alleyn told her about it.
“And isn’t that really all?” he asked.
“Yes. That’s all.”
“Troy, I love you more than anything in life. I’ve tried humility; God knows, I am humble. And I’ve tried effrontery. If you can’t love me, tell me so, and please let us not meet again because I can’t manage meeting you unless it is to love you.”