Overture to Death

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Miss Prentice Feels the Draught

i

“— So you see,” said Alleyn, “I was led to wonder if, to speak frankly, the object of her visit was blackmail.”

The squire’s face was drained of all its normal colour, but now it flushed a painful crimson.

“I cannot believe it.”

“In view of the record — ”

The squire made a violent, clumsy gesture with his right hand. Standing in the centre of the stage under those uncompromising lights, he looked at once frightened and defiant. Alleyn watched him for a moment and then he said:

“You see, I think I know what she had to say to you.”

Jernigham’s jaw dropped.

“I don’t believe you,” he said hoarsely.

“Then let me tell what I believe to be her hold on you.”

Alleyn’s voice went on and on, quietly, dispassionately. Jernigham listened with his gaze on the floor. Once he looked up as though he would interrupt, but he seemed to think better of this impulse and fell to biting his nails.

“I give you this opportunity,” said Alleyn. “If you care to tell me now — ”

“There is nothing to tell you. It’s not true.”

“Mrs. Ross did not come this afternoon with this story. She did not make these very definite terms with you?”

“I cannot discuss the matter.”

“Even,” said Alleyn, “in view of this record?”

“I admit nothing.”

“Very well. I was afraid you would take this line.”

“In my position — ”

“It was because of your position I gave you this opportunity. I can do no more.”

“I can’t see why you want this general interview.”

“Shock tactics, sir,” said Alleyn.

“I–I don’t approve.”

“If you wish, sir, I can hand my report in and you may make a formal complaint at the Yard.”

“No.”

“It would make no difference,” said Âlleyn. “I think the others have arrived. This is your last word?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Very well, sir.”

Roper tapped at one of the supper-room doors.

“Hullo!” shouted Alleyn.

“Here they be, sir, every living soul, and all come together.”

“All right, Roper. Show them in.”

ii

Miss Prentice came in first, followed by Dinah, the rector and Henry. Alleyn asked Miss Prentice to sit in the most comfortable chair, which he had placed on the prompt side of the table. When she dithered, he was so crisply polite that she was there before she realised it. She looked quickly towards the rector, who took the chair on her right. Dinah sat on her father’s right with Henry beside her. The squire looked furtively at Alleyn.

“Will you sit down, sir?” invited Alleyn.

“What! Yes, yes,” said the squire convulsively, and sat beside Henry.

Mrs. Ross came in. She was dressed in black and silver, a strangely exotic figure in those surroundings. She said: “Good-evening,” with her customary side-long smile, bowed rather more pointedly to Alleyn, and sat beside the squire. Templett, seeming ill at ease and shame-faced, followed her.

Miss Prentice drew in her breath and began to whisper:

“No, no, no! Never at the same table. I can’t—!”

Alleyn sat on her left in the one chair remaining vacant and said, “Miss Prentice — please!”

His voice had sufficient edge to silence Miss Prentice and call the others to a sort of guarded alertness.

His long hands lay clasped before him on the table. He leant forward and looked with deliberation round the circle of attentive faces.

He said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I shall not apologise for calling you together to-night. I am sure that most — not all, but most — of you are only too anxious that this affair should be settled, and I may tell you that we have now collected enough evidence to make an arrest. Each of you in turn has provided evidence; each of you has withheld evidence. From the information you have given, and from the significance of your several reticences, has emerged a pattern which, as we read it, has at its centre a single person: the murderer of Miss Idris Campanula.”

They sat as still as figures in a tableau, and the only sound, when Alleyn paused, was the sound of rain and the uneasy stirring of the wind outside.

“From the beginning, this strange affair has presented one particularly unusual problem: the problem of the murderer’s intention. Was it Miss Idris Campanula for whom this trap was set, or was it Miss Eleanor Prentice? If it was indeed Idris Campanula, then the number of possible suspects was very small. If it was Miss Prentice, the field was a great deal wider. During most of yesterday and part of to-day my colleague, Inspector Fox interviewed the people who have known and come into contact with both ladies. He could find no motive for the murder of either of them, outside the circle of people we have found motive. Money, jealousy, love and fear are the themes most usually found behind homicide. All four appeared in this case if Miss Campanula was the intended victim: the last three, if the intended victim was Miss Prentice. The fact that on Friday evening at five o’clock Mr. Henry Jernigham showed the automatic to all of you, except his father, who is the owner, was another circumstance that suggested one of you as the guilty person.”

Henry rested his head on his hand, driving his fingers through his hair. Templett cleared his throat

“At the inquest this morning you all heard the story of the water-pistol. The booby-trap was ready at 2.30 on Friday. The water-pistol was no longer in position at noon on Saturday when Miss Prentice used the soft pedal. Yet some time between Friday at 2.30 and noon on Saturday, somebody sat at the piano and used the soft pedal and the booby-trap worked.”

Alleyn lifted the cloth from the table. Miss Prentice gave a nervous yelp. He took up the “Venetian Suite” and pointed to the circular blister and discoloured splashes on the back.

“Five hours after the catastrophe, this was still damp. So was the torn silk round the hole in the front of the piano. Miss Prentice has told us that her music was left on the piano earlier in the week. All Saturday morning the hall was occupied. It seems, therefore, that the water-pistol was removed before Saturday morning, and presumably by the guilty person, since an innocent person would not have kept silent about the booby-trap. On Friday afternoon and evening the hall was deserted. At this stage I may say that Mr. Jernigham and Dr. Templett both have alibis for Friday afternoon, when they hunted up till a short time before the rehearsal-for-words at Pen Cuckoo. Dr. Templett has an alibi for Friday and well into Saturday morning, during which time he was occupied with professional duties. It is hardly conceivable that he would enter the hall in the small hours of Saturday morning to play the piano. The helpers arrived soon after nine o’clock on Saturday, and by that time the pistol had been removed.

“Now for the automatic. If, as we suppose, the water-pistol was discovered on Friday, it is of course possible that the automatic was substituted before Saturday. This possibility we consider unlikely. It was known that the helpers would be in the hall all Saturday morning, and the murderer would have run the risk of discovery. It was only necessary for someone to disarrange the rotten silk in the front of the piano to reveal the nozzle of the Colt. True, this piece of music was on the rack; but it might have been removed. Somebody might have dusted the piano. It is also true that nobody was likely to look in the top, as the person who removed the water-pistol had taken pains to re-fasten the bunting with drawing-pins and to cover the top with heavy pot plants. Still, there would have been considerable risk. It seems more probable that the murderer would leave the setting of the automatic until as late as possible. Say about four o’clock on Saturday afternoon.”

Templett made a sudden movement, but said nothing.

“For four o’clock on Saturday afternoon,” said Alleyn, “none of you has an alibi that would stand up to five minutes’ cross-examination.”

“But—”

“I’ve told you — ”

“I explained yesterday — ”

“Do you want me to go into this? Wait a little and listen. At about half-past three, Mrs. Ross arrived at the hall. Dr. Templett got there a few minutes later. She had come to complete the supper arrangements, he to put his acting clothes in his dressing-room. They had both called at Pen Cuckoo in the morning. Mrs. Ross tells us that while Dr. Templett went into the house she remained in the car. I imagine there is no need to remind you all of the french window into the study at Pen Cuckoo.”

“I knew,” whispered Miss Prentice. “I knew, I knew!”

“You’re going beyond your duty, Mr. Alleyn,” said Mrs. Ross.

“No,” said Alleyn. “I merely pause here to point out how easy it would have been for any of you to come up Top Lane and slip into the study. To return to the 3.30 visit to the hall. Dr. Templett has given what I believe to be a true account of this visit. He has told us that he arrived to find Mrs. Ross already there and occupied with the supper arrangements. After a time they came here on to this stage. They noticed that the last window on the right, near the front door, was a few inches open. Mrs. Ross, who first noticed this, told Dr. Templett that she saw someone dodge down behind the sill. To reach the window this onlooker used a box.”

He turned the cloth farther back and the dilapidated soap-box was revealed. Miss Prentice giggled and covered her mouth with her hand.

“This is the box. It fits into the marks under the window. Do you recognise it, Dr. Templett?”

“Yes,” said Templett dully, “I remember that splash of white on the top. I saw it as I looked down.”

“Exactly. I should explain that when Dr. Templett reached the window he looked out to see if he could discover anybody. He saw nobody, but he noticed the box. He tells me it was not there when he arrived. Now Mrs. Ross said that she did not recognise this person. But I have experimented, and have found that if one sees anybody at all under the conditions she has described, one stands a very good chance of recognising them. One would undoubtedly know, for instance, whether it was a man or a woman whose image showed for a moment and disappeared behind the sill. It will be urged by the police that Mrs. Ross did, in fact recognise this person.” Alleyn turned to Templett.

“Mrs. Ross did not tell you who it was?”

“I didn’t know who it was,” said Mrs. Ross.

“Dr. Templett?”

“I believe Mrs. Ross’s statement.”

Alleyn looked at the squire.

“When you saw Mrs. Ross alone this afternoon, sir, did she refer to this incident?”

“I can’t answer that question, Alleyn,” muttered the squire. Henry raised his head and looked at his father with a sort of wonder.

“Very well, sir,” said Alleyn. “I must remind you all that you are free to refuse answers to any questions you may be asked. The police may not set traps, and it is my duty to tell you that we have established the identity of the eavesdropper.” He took the lid from a small box.

“One of those fragments of rubber,” he said, “was found on the point of a nail on the inside of the box. The others were caught behind projecting splinters also on the inside of the box.”

He opened an envelope and from it he shook a torn surgical finger-stall.

“The fragments of rubber,” he said, “correspond with the holes in this stall.”

Miss Prentice electrified the company by clapping her hands with great violence.

“Oh, inspector,” she cried shrilly, “how perfectly, perfectly wonderful you are!”

iii

Alleyn turned slowly and met her enraptured gaze. Her prominent eyes bulged, her mouth was open, and she nodded her head several times with an air of ecstasy.

“Then you acknowledge,” he said, “that you put this box outside the window on Saturday afternoon?”

“Of course!”

“And that you stood on it in order to look through the window?”

“Alas, yes!”

“Miss Prentice, why did you do this?”

“I was guided.”

“Why did you not admit you recognised the box when Inspector Fox asked you about it?”

With that unlovely air of girlishness she covered her face with her fingers.

“I was afraid he would ask me what I saw.”

“This is absolute nonsense!” said Templett angrily.

“And why,” continued Alleyn, “did you tell me you were indoors all Saturday afternoon?”

“I was afraid to say what I’d done.”

“Afraid? Of whom?”

She seemed to draw herself inwards to a point of venomous concentration. She stretched out her arm across the table. The finger pointed at Mrs. Ross.

“Of her. She tried to murder me. She’s a murderess. I can prove it. I can prove it.”

“No!” cried the squire. “No! Good God, Alleyn — ”

“Is there any doubt in your mind, Mr. Alleyn,” said Mrs. Ross, “that this woman is mad?”

“I can prove it,” repeated Miss Prentice.

“How?” asked Alleyn. “Please let this finish, Mr. Jernigham. We shall see daylight soon.”

“She knew I saw her. She tried to kill me because she was afraid.”

“You hear that, Mrs. Ross? It is a serious accusation. Do you feel inclined to answer it? I must warn you, first, that Dr. Templett has made a statement about this incident.”

She looked quickly at Templett.

He said, “I thought you hadn’t considered me over the other business. I told the truth.”

“You fool,” said Mrs. Ross. For the first time she looked really frightened. She raised her hands to her thin neck and touched it surreptitiously. Then she hid her hands in her lap.

“I do not particularly want to repeat the gist of Dr. Templett’s statement,” said Alleyn.

“Very well.” Her voice cracked, she took a breath and then said evenly, “Very well. I recognised Miss Prentice. I’ve nothing whatever to fear. One doesn’t kill old maids for eavesdropping.”

“Mr. Jernigham,” said Alleyn, “did Mrs. Ross tell you of this incident this afternoon?”

The squire was staring at Mrs. Ross as if she was a sort of Medusa. Without turning his eyes, he nodded.

“She suggested that Miss Prentice had come down to the hall with the intention of putting the automatic in the piano?”

“So she had. I’ll swear,” said Mrs. Ross.

“Mr. Jernigham?”

“Yes. Yes, she suggested that.”

“She told you perhaps, that you could trust her?”

“Oh, my God!” said the squire.

“I arrived too late at this place,” said Mrs. Ross, “to be able to do anything to the piano.” She looked at Dinah. “You know that.”

“Yes,” said Dinah.

“It was soon after that,” said Miss Prentice abruptly, “that she began to set traps for me, you know. Then I saw it all in a flash. She must have seen me through a glass darkly, and because I witnessed the unpardonable sin she will destroy me. You understand, don’t you, because it is very important. She is in league with The Others, and it won’t be long before one of them catches me.”

Templett said, “Alleyn, you must see. This has gone on long enough. It’s perfectly obvious what’s wrong here.”

“We will go on, if you please,” said Alleyn. “Mr. Copeland, you told me that on Friday night you expected Miss Prentice at the rectory.”

The rector, very pale, said, “Yes.”

“She didn’t arrive?”

“No. I told you. She telephoned.”

“At what time?”

“Not long after ten.”

“From Pen Cuckoo?”

“It was my hand, you know,” said Miss Prentice rapidly. “I wanted to rest my hand. It was so very naughty. The blood tramped up and down my arm. Thump, thump, thump. So I said I would stay at home.”

“You rang up from Pen Cuckoo?”

“I took the message, Mr. Alleyn,” said Dinah. “I told you.”

“And what do you say, Miss Copeland, if I tell you that on Friday night the Pen Cuckoo telephone was out of order from 8.20 until the following morning?”

“But — it couldn’t have been.”

“I’m afraid it was.” He turned to Henry Jernigham. “You agree?”

“Yes,” said Henry without raising his head.

“You can thank The Others for that,” said Miss Prentice in a trembling voice.

“The Others?”

“The Others, yes. They are always doing those sort of tricks; and she’s the worst of the lot, that woman over there.”

“Well, Miss Copeland?”

“I took the message,” repeated Dinah. “Miss Prentice said she was at home and would remain at home.”

“This contradiction,” said Alleyn, “takes us a step further. Mrs. Ross, on Friday night you drove down to Chipping by way of Church Lane?”

“Yes.”

“You have told me that you saw a light in this hall.”

“Yes.”

“You think it was in Mr. Jernigham’s dressing-room?”

“Yes.”

“The telephone is in that room, Miss Dinah, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” whispered Dinah. “Oh, yes.”

Alleyn took a card from his pocket and scribbled on it. He handed it over to Henry.

“Will you take Miss Dinah to the rectory?” he said. “In half an hour I want you to ring through to here on the extension. Show this card to the man at the door and he will let you out.”

Henry looked fixedly at Alleyn.

“Very well, sir.” he said. “Thank you.”

Henry and Dinah went out.

iv

“Now,” said Alleyn, “we come to the final scene. I must tell you — though I dare say you have heard it all by now — that at 6.30 Miss Gladys Wright used the piano and pressed down the soft pedal. Nothing untoward happened. Since it is inconceivable that anybody could remove the pot plants and rig the automatic after 6.30, we know that the automatic must have been already in position. The safety-catch, which Mr. Henry Jernigham showed to all of you, and particularly to Mrs. Ross, accounts for Gladys Wright’s immunity. How, then, did the guilty person manage to release the safety-catch after Gladys Wright and her fellow-helpers were down in the front of the hall? I will show you how it could have been done.”

He went down to the footlights.

“You notice that the curtain falls on the far side of the improvised footlights and just catches on the top of the piano. Now, if you’ll look.”

He stooped and pushed his hand under the curtain. The top of the piano, with its covering of green and yellow bunting, could just be seen.

“This bunting is pinned down as it was on Saturday. It is stretched tight over the entire top of the piano. The lid is turned back, but of course that doesn’t show. The pot plants stand on the inside of the lid. I take out the centre drawing-pin at the back and slide my hand under the bunting. I am hidden by the curtain, and the pot plants also serve as a mask for any slight movement that might appear from the front of the hall. My fingers have reached the space beyond the open lid. Inside the opening they encounter the cold, smooth surface of the Colt. Listen.”

Above the sound of rain and wind they all heard a small click.

“I have pushed over the safety-catch,” said Alleyn. “The automatic is now ready to shoot Miss Campanula between the eyes.”

“Horrible,” said the rector violently..

“There is one sequence of events about which we can be certain,” said Alleyn. “We know that the first person to arrive was Gladys Wright. We know that she entered the hall at 6.30, and was in front of the curtain down there with her companions until and after the audience came in. We know that it would have been impossible for anybody to come down from the stage into the front of the hall unnoticed. Miss Wright is ready to swear that nobody did this. We know that Miss Dinah Copeland arrived with her father soon after Gladys Wright, and was here behind the scenes. We know Mr. Copeland sat on the stage until he made his announcement to the audience, only leaving it for a moment to join the others at the telephone, and once again when he persuaded Miss Prentice not to play. Mr. Copeland, did you at any time see anybody stoop down to the curtains as I did just then?”

“No. No! I am quite certain that I didn’t. You see, my chair faced the exact spot.”

“Yes, therefore we know that unless Mr. Copeland is the guilty person, the safety-catch must have been released during one of his two absences. But Mr. Copeland believed, up to the last moment, that Miss Prentice was to be the pianist. We are satisfied that Mr. Copeland is not the guilty person.”

The rector raised one of his large hands in a gesture that seemed to repudiate his immunity. The squire, Miss Prentice, Mrs. Ross and Templett kept their eyes fixed on Alleyn.

“Knowing the only means by which the safety-catch might be released, it seems evident that Miss Prentice was not the intended victim. Miss Prentice, you are cold. Do you feel a draught?”

Miss Prentice shook her head, but she trembled like a wet dog and looked not unlike one. There was a faint sound of movement behind the scenes. Alleyn went on:

“When you were all crowded round her and she gave in and consented to allow Miss Campanula to play, it would have been easy enough to come up here and put the safety-catch on again. Why run the risk of being arrested for the murder of the wrong person?”

Alleyn’s level voice halted for a moment. He leant forward, and when he spoke again it was with extreme deliberation:

“No! The trap was set for Miss Campanula. It was set before Miss Prentice yielded her right to play, and it was set by someone who knew she would not play. The safety-catch was released at the only moment when the stage was empty. The moment when you were all crowded round the telephone. Then the murderer sat back and waited for the catastrophe to happen. Beyond the curtain at this moment someone is sitting at the piano. In a minute you will hear the opening chords of the “Prelude” as you heard them on Saturday night. If you listen closely you will hear the click of the trigger when the soft pedal goes down. That will represent the report of the automatic. Imagine this guilty person. Imagine someone whose hand stole under the curtain while the hall was crowded and set that trap. Imagine someone who sat, as we sit now, and waited for those three fatal chords.”

Alleyn paused.

As heavy as lead and as loud as ever the dead hand had struck them out, in the empty hall beyond the curtain, thumped the three chords of Miss Campanula’s “Prelude.”

“Pom. Pom. POM!”

And very slowly, in uneven jerks, the curtain began to rise.

As it rose, so did Miss Prentice. She might have been pulled up by an invisible hand in her hair. Her mouth was wide open, but the only sound she made was a sort of retching groan. She did not take her eyes from the rising curtain, but she pointed her hand at the rector and waved it up and down.

“It was for you,” screamed Miss Prentice. “I did it for you!”

And Nigel, seated at the piano, saw Alleyn take her by the arm.

“Eleanor Prentice, I arrest you — ”