Overture to Death

CHAPTER NINETEEN Statement From Templett

i

“Selia?” said Dr. Templett, and stopped short.

The paper dangled from Alleyn’s fingers.

“Hullo, chief inspector,” said Templett breathlessly. “I thought I might find you here. I’ve just done the P.M.”

“Yes?” said Alleyn. “Anything unexpected?”

“Nothing.”

Alleyn held out the paper.

“Isn’t this your letter?”

Templett stood absolutely still. He then shook his head, but the gesture seemed to repudiate the implication rather than the statement.

“Were you not looking for it this morning in the breast pocket of your coat?”

“Is it yours, Billy?” she said. “Who’s been writing comic letters to you?”

The skin of his face seemed to tighten. Two sharp little chords sprang up from his nostrils to the corners of his mouth. He turned to the fire and stooped as if to warm his hands. They trembled violently and he thrust them into his pockets. His face was quite without colour, but the firelight dyed it crimson.

Alleyn waited.

Mrs. Ross lit a cigarette.

“I think I’d like to speak to Mr. Alleyn alone,” said Templett.

“Can you come back to Chipping with me?” asked Alleyn.

“What? Yes. Yes, I’ll do that.”

Alleyn turned to Mrs. Ross and bowed.

“Good-evening, Mrs. Ross.”

“Is it so late? Good-bye. Billy, is anything wrong?”

Alleyn saw him look at her with a sort of wonder. He shook his head and walked out. Alleyn followed him.

Nigel was sitting in the Biggins’s car. Alleyn signalled quickly to him and followed Templett to his Morris.

“I’ll come with you, if I may,” said Alleyn.

Templett nodded. They got in. Templett turned the car and accelerated violently. Cloudyfold Rise leapt at them. They crossed the hill-top in two minutes. It was already dusk and the houses down in the Vale were lit. A cold mist hung about the hills.

“God damn it,” said Dr. Templett, “you needn’t watch me like that! I’m not going to take cyanide.”

“Of course not.”

As they skidded round Pen Cuckoo corner, Templett said, “I didn’t do it.”

“All right.”

At the church lane turning the car skated twenty yards on the greasy road, and fetched up sideways. Alleyn held his peace and trod on imaginary brakes. They started off again more reasonably, but entered Chipping at forty miles an hour.

“Will you stop outside the Jernigham Arms for a minute?” asked Alleyn.

Templett did not slow down until they were within two hundred yards of the inn. They shot across the road and stopped with screaming brakes. The pot-boy came running out.

“Is Mr. Fox there? Ask him to come out, will you?” called Alleyn cheerfully. “And when Mr. Bathgate arrives, send him on to the police station at Great Chipping. Ask him to bring my case with him.”

Fox came out, bare-headed.

“Pop in at the back, Brer Fox,” said Alleyn. “We’re going into Great Chipping. Dr. Templett will take us.”

“Good-evening, doctor,” said Fox, and got in.

Dr. Templett put in his clutch and was off before the door shut. Alleyn’s arm hung over the back of the seat. He twiddled his long fingers eloquently.

They reached the outskirts of Great Chipping in ten minutes, and here Templett seemed to come to his senses. He drove reasonably enough through the narrow provincial streets and pulled up at the police station.

Blandish was there. A constable showed them into his office and stood inside the door.

“Good-evening, gentlemen,” said the superintendent, who seemed to be in superb form. “Some good news for me, I hope? Glad to say we’re getting on quite nicely with our little job, Mr. Alleyn. I wouldn’t be surprised if we won’t be able to give the City a bit of very sound information by to-morrow. The bird’s flown to Bermondsey, and we ought to be able to pull him in. Very gratifying. Well, now, sit down, all of you. Smith! The chair by the door.”

He bustled hospitably, caught sight of Templett’s face and was abruptly silent.

“I’ll make a statement,” said Templett.

“I think perhaps I should warn you—” said Alleyn.

“I know all that. I’ll make a statement.”

Fox moved up to the table. Superintendent Blandish, very startled and solemn, shoved across a pad of paper.

ii

“On Friday afternoon,” said Dr. Templett, “on my return from hunting, an anonymous letter came into my possession. I believe the police now have this letter. Inspector Alleyn has shown it to me. I attached very little importance to it. I do not know who wrote it. I put it in my pocket-book in the inside breast pocket of my coat. I intended to destroy it. At five o’clock on Friday I attended a rehearsal at Pen Cuckoo. On my return home I was immediately called out on a difficult case. I did not get back until late night. I forgot all about the letter. Yesterday, Saturday, wearing the same suit, I left my house at about 8.30, having only just got up. I collected some furniture from Duck Cottage, called at Pen Cuckoo, went on to the hall, where I left the furniture. She was with me. The rest of Saturday was spent on my rounds. I was unusually busy. They gave me some lunch at the cottage hospital. In the afternoon I called at the hall. I was there for about half an hour. I did not go near the piano and I didn’t remember the letter. I was not alone at the hall at any time. I arrived there for the evening performance at half-past seven, or possibly later. I went straight to my dressing-room and changed, hanging up my coat on the wall. Henry Jernigham came in and helped me. After the tragedy I did not change until I got home. At no time did I remember the letter. The next time I saw it, was this afternoon when Inspector Alleyn showed it to me. That’s all.”

Fox looked up.

Blandish said, “Make a full transcript of Inspector Fox’s notes, Smith.”

Smith went out with the notes.

Alleyn said, “Before we go any further, Dr. Templett, I think I should tell you that the letter I showed you was a copy of the original and made on identical paper. The original is in our possession and it is in my bag. Fox, do you mind seeing if Bathgate has arrived?”

Fox went out and in a minute returned with Alleyn’s case.

“Have you,” Alleyn asked Templett, “as far as your memory serves, given us the whole truth in the statement you have just made?”

“I’ve given you everything that’s relevant.”

“I am going to put several questions to you. Would you like to wait until your lawyer is present?”

“I don’t want a lawyer. I’m innocent.”

“Your answers will be taken down and—”

“And may be used in evidence. I know.”

“—And may be used in evidence,” Alleyn repeated.

“Well?” asked Templett.

“Have you shown the letter to any one else?”

“No.”

“Did you receive it by post?”

“Yes.”

Alleyn nodded to Fox, who opened the case and took out the original letter between its two glass cover-sheets.

“Here it is,” said Alleyn. “You see, we have developed the prints. There are three sets — yours, the deceased’s, and another’s. I must tell you that the unknown prints will be compared with any that we find on the copy which Mrs. Ross has held in her hands. You can see, if you look at the original, that one set of prints is superimposed on the other two. Those are your own. The deceased’s prints are the undermost.”

Templett did not speak.

“Dr. Templett, I am going to tell you what I believe to have happened. I believe that this letter was sent in the first instance to Mrs. Ross. The wording suggests that it was addressed to a woman rather than a man. I believe that Mrs. Ross showed it to you on Saturday, which was yesterday morning, and that you put it in your pocket-book. If this is so, you know as well as I do that you will be ill-advised to deny it. You have told us the letter came by post. Do you now feel it would be better to alter this statement?”

“It makes no difference.”

“It makes all the difference between giving the police facts instead of fiction. If we find what we expect to find from the fingerprints, you will not help matters by adding your misstatement to the one that was made at Duck Cottage.”

Alleyn paused and looked at the undistinguished, dogged face.

“You have had a great shock,” he said, and added in a voice so low that Blandish put his hand to his ear like a deaf rustic: “It’s no good trying to protect people who are ready at any sacrifice of loyalty to protect themselves.”

Templett laughed.

“So it seems,” he said. “All right. That’s how it was. It’s no good denying it.”

“Mrs. Ross gave you the letter on Saturday?”

“I suppose so. Yes.”

“Did you guess at the authorship?”

“I guessed.”

“Did you notice the smell of eucalyptus?”

“Yes. But I’m innocent. My God, I tell you I had no opportunity. I can give you an account of every moment of the day.”

“When you were at the hall with Mrs. Ross, did you not leave her to go down to the auditorium?”

“Why should I?”

“Mrs. Ross told me you shut one of the windows.”

“Yes. I’d forgotten. Yes, I did.”

“But if Mrs. Ross says she had shut the window herself in the morning?”

“I know. We couldn’t make it out.”

“You noticed the open window, shut it, returned to the stage, and lowered the curtain?”

“Did she tell you that!”

Templett suddenly collapsed into the chair behind him and buried his face in his hands. “My God,” he said. “I’ve been a fool. What a fool!”

“They say it happens once to most of us,” said Alleyn unexpectedly and not unkindly. “Did Mrs. Ross not mention at the time that she thought she had already shut the window.”

“Yes, yes, yes. She said so. But the window was open. It was opened about three inches. How can I expect you to believe it? You think I lowered the curtain, went to the piano, and fixed this bloody trap. I tell you I didn’t.”

“Why did you lower the curtain?”

Templett looked at his hands.

“Oh, God,” he said. “Have we got to go into all that?”

“I see,” said Alleyn. “No, I don’t think we need. There was a scene that would have compromised you both if anybody had witnessed it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you at any time speak about the letter?”

“She asked me if I’d found out — I may as well tell you I’ve got a note somewhere from Miss Campanula. I thought I’d compare the paper. I’d been so rushed during the day I hadn’t had time. That’s why I didn’t destroy the thing.”

“When you opened the window did you look out?”

“What? Yes. Yes. I think I did.” There was a curious note of uncertainty in his voice.

“Have you remembered something?”

“What’s the good! It sounds like something I’ve made up at the last moment.”

“Let us have it anyway.”

“Well, she caught sight of the window. She noticed it first; saw it over my shoulder, and got an impression that there was something that dodged down behind the sill. It was only a flash, she said. I thought it was probably one of those damned scouts. When I got to the window I looked out. There was nobody there.”

“Were you upset by the discovery of an eavesdropper?”

Templett shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, what’s the good!” he said. “Yes, I suppose we were.”

“Who was this individual?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“But didn’t Mrs. Ross say who it was? She must have had some impression.”

“Ask her if you must,” he said violently. “I can’t tell you.”

“When you looked out they had gone,” murmured Alleyn. “But you looked out.”

He watched Dr. Templett, and Blandish and Fox watched him. Fox realised that they had reached a climax. He knew what Alleyn’s next question would be, he saw Alleyn raise one eyebrow and screw his mouth sideways before he asked his question.

“Did you look down?” asked Alleyn.

“Yes.”

“And you saw?”

“There was a box under the window.”

“Ah!” It was the smallest sigh. Alleyn seemed to relax all over. He smiled to himself and pulled out his cigarette case.

“That seemed to suggest,” said Templett, “that somebody had stood there, using the box. It wasn’t there when I got to the hall because I went round that way to get the key.”

Alleyn turned to Fox.

“Have you asked them about the box?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Jernigham, Miss Prentice, every kid in the village, and all the helpers. Nobody knows anything about it.”

“Good,” said Alleyn, heartily.

For the first time since they got there, Dr. Templett showed some kind of interest.

“Is it important?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Alleyn. “I think it’s of the first importance.”

iii

“You knew about this box?” asked Templett after a pause.

“Yes, why don’t you smoke, Dr. Templett?” Alleyn held out his case.

“Are you going to charge me?”

“No. Not on present information.”

Templett took a cigarette and Alleyn lit it for him.

“I’m in a hell of a mess,” said Templett. “I see that.”

“Yes,” agreed Alleyn. “One way and another you’ve landed yourself in rather a box.” But there was something in his manner that drove the terror out of Templett’s eyes.

Smith came in with the transcript.

“Sergeant Roper’s outside, sir,” he said. “He came down with Mr. Bathgate and wants to see you particular.”

“He can wait,” said Blandish. “He’s wanted to see me particular about ten times a day ever since we got busy.”

“Yes, sir. Will I leave this transcript?”

“Leave it here,” said Blandish, “and wait outside.”

When Smith had gone Blandish spoke to Dr. Templett for the first time that evening.

“I’m very sorry about this, doctor.”

“That’s all right,” said Templett.

“I think Mr. Alleyn will agree with me that if it’s got no bearing on the case we’ll do our best to bury it.”

“Certainly,” said Alleyn.

“I don’t care much what happens,” said Templett.

“Oh, come now, doctor,” said Blandish uncomfortably, “you mustn’t say that.”

But Alleyn saw a gay little drawing-room with a delicate straw-coloured lady, whose good nature did not stretch beyond a very definite point, and he thought he understood Dr. Templett.

“I think,” he said, “you had better give us a complete time-table of your movements from two-thirty on Friday up to eight o’clock last night. We shall check it, but we’ll make the process an impersonal sort of business.”

“But for those ten minutes in the hall, I’m all right,” said Templett. “God, I was with her all the time, until I shut the window! Ask her how long it took! I wasn’t away two minutes over the business. Surely to God she’ll at least bear me out in that. She’s nothing to lose by it.”

“She shall be asked,” said Alleyn.

Templett began to give the names of all the houses he had visited on his rounds. Fox took them down.

Alleyn suddenly asked Blandish to find out how long the Pen Cuckoo telephone had been disconnected by the falling branch. Blandish rang up the exchange.

“From eight-twenty until the next morning.”

“Yes,” said Alleyn. “Yes.”

Dr. Templett’s voice droned on with its flat recital of time and place.

“Yes, I hunted all day Friday. I got home in time to change and go to the five o’clock rehearsal. The servants can check that. When I got home again I found this urgent message… I was out till after midnight. Mrs. Bains at Mill Farm. She was in labour twenty-four hours… yes…”

“May I interrupt?” asked Alleyn. “”Yesterday morning, at Pen Cuckoo, Mrs. Ross did not leave the car?”

“No.”

“Were you shown into the study?”

“Yes.”

“You were there alone?”

“Yes,” said Templett, showing the whites of his eyes. “Dr. Templett, did you touch the box with the automatic?”

“Before God, I didn’t.”

“One more question. Last night did you use all your powers of authority and persuasion to induce Miss Prentice to allow Miss Campanula to take her place?”

“Yes, but — she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Will you describe again how you found her?”

“I told you last night. I came in late. I thought Dinah would be worried and after I’d changed, I went along to the women’s dressing-room to show her I was there. I heard some one snivelling and moaning, and through the open door I saw Miss Prentice in floods of tears, rocking backwards and forwards and holding her hand. I went in and looked at it. No doctor in his senses would have let her thump the piano. She couldn’t have done it. I told her so, but she kept on saying, ‘I will do it. I will do it.’ I got angry and spoke my mind. I couldn’t get any further with her. It was damned near time we started and I wasn’t even made-up.”

“So you fetched Miss Copeland and her father, knowing the rector would possibly succeed where you had failed.”

“Yes. But I tell you it was physically impossible for her to use her finger. I could have told her that — ”

He stopped short.

“Yes? You could have told her that, how long ago?” said Alleyn.

“Three days ago.”

iv

Smith returned.

“It’s Sergeant Roper, sir. He says it’s very particular indeed and he knows Mr. Alleyn would want to hear it.”

“Blast!” said Blandish. “All right, all right.”

Smith left the door open. Alleyn saw Nigel crouched over an anthracite stove and Roper, sweating and expectant, in the middle of the room.

“Right oh, Roper,” said Smith audibly. Roper hurriedly removed his helmet, cleared his throat, and marched heavily into the room.

“Well, Roper?” said Blandish.

“Sir,” said Roper, “I have a report.” He took his official note-book from a pocket in his tunic and opened it, bringing it into line with his nose. He began to read very rapidly in a high voice.

“This afternoon, November 28th, at 4 p.m. being on duty at the time outside the parish hall of Winton St. Giles I was approached and accosted by a young female. She was well-known to me being by name Gladys Wright (Miss) of Top Lane, Winton. The following conversation eventuated. Miss Wright enquired of me if I was waiting for my girl or my promotion. Myself (P.S. Roper): I am on duty, Miss Wright, and would take it kindly if you would pass along the lane. Miss Wright: Look what our cat’s brought in. P.S. Roper: And I don’t want no lip or saucy boldness. Miss Wright: I could tell you something and I’ve come along to do it, but seeing you’re on duty maybe I’ll keep it for your betters. P.S. Roper: If you know anything, Gladys, you’d better speak up for the law comes down with majesty on them that aids and abets and withholds. Miss Wright: What will you give me? The succeeding remarks are not evidence and bear no connection with the matter in hand. They are therefore omitted.”

“What the hell did she tell you?” asked Blandish. “Shut that damned book and come to the point.”

“Sir, the girl told me in her silly way that she came down to the hall at six-thirty on yesterday evening being one of them selected to usher. She let herself in and finding herself the first to arrive, living nearby and not wishing to return home, the night being heavy rain with squalls and her hair being artificially twisted up with curls which to my mind—”

“What did she tell you?”

“She told me that at six-thirty she sat down as bold as brass and played ‘Nearer my Gawd to Thee’ with the soft pedal on,” said Roper.