The Body in the Library - Christie Agatha - Страница 5
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"If I take you to a party, I expect you to be able to behave yourself."
"And I refuse to be dictated to, and that's that. You said we'd go to the party and come on down here afterward. I'm not going to leave a party before I'm ready to leave it."
"No, and that's why I left you flat. I was ready to come down here and I came. I don't hang round waiting for any fool of a woman."
"Sweet, polite person you are."
"You seem to have followed me down, all right."
"I wanted to tell you what I thought of you."
"If you think you can boss me, my girl, you're wrong."
"And if you think you can order me about, you can think again."
They glared at each other. It was at this moment that Colonel Melchett seized his opportunity and cleared his throat loudly. Basil Blake swung round on him. "Hullo, I forgot you were here. About time you took yourself off, isn't it? Let me introduce you Dinah Lee. Colonel Blimp, of the county police… And now, Colonel, that you've seen that my blonde is alive and in good condition, perhaps you'll get on with the good work concerning old Bantry's little bit of fluff. Good morning."
Colonel Melchett said, "I advise you to keep a civil tongue in your head, young man, or you'll let yourself in for trouble," and stumped out, his face red and wrathful.
In his office at Much Benham, Colonel Melchett received and scrutinized the reports of his subordinates. "… so it all seems clear enough, sir," Inspector Slack was concluding. "Mrs. Bantry sat in the library after dinner and went to bed just before ten. She turned out the lights when she left the room, and presumably no one entered the room afterward. The servants went to bed at half past ten, and Lorrimer, after putting the drinks in the hall, went to bed at a quarter to eleven. Nobody heard anything out of the usual, except the third housemaid, and she heard too much! Groans and a bloodcurdling yell and sinister footsteps and I don't know what. The second housemaid, who shares a room with her, says the other girl slept all night through without a sound. It's those ones that make up things that cause us all the trouble."
"What about the forced window?"
"Amateur job, Simmons says, done with a common chisel, ordinary pattern; wouldn't have made much noise. Ought to be a chisel about the house, but not [missing text]
Melchett said to the inspector, "You're quite sure she'd never been seen before at Gossington?"
"The servants are positive of that. Quite indignant about it. They'd have remembered if they'd ever seen her about in the neighborhood, they say."
"I expect they would," said Melchett. "Anyone of that type sticks out a mile round here. Look at that young woman of Blake's."
"Pity it wasn't her," said Slack. "Then we should be able to get on a bit."
"It seems to me this girl must have come down from London," said the chief constable thoughtfully. "Don't believe there will be any local leads. In that case, I suppose, we should do well to call in the Yard. It's a case for them, not for us."
"Something must have brought her down here, though," said Slack. He added tentatively, "Seems to me Colonel and Mrs. Bantry must know something. Of course I know they're friends of yours, sir."
Colonel Melchett treated him to a cold stare. He said stiffly, "You may rest assured that I'm taking every possibility into account. Every possibility." He went on, "You've looked through the list of persons reported missing, I suppose?"
Slack nodded. He produced a typed sheet "Got 'em here. Mrs. Saunders, reported missing a week ago, dark-haired, blue-eyed, thirty-six. 'Tisn't her. And anyway, everyone knows, except her husband, that she's gone off with a fellow from Leeds commercial. Mrs. Barnard she's sixty-five. Pamela Reeves, sixteen, missing from her home last night, had attended Girl Guide rally, dark brown hair in pigtails, five feet five "
Melchett said irritably, "Don't go on reading idiotic details Slack. This wasn't a schoolgirl. In my opinion-" He broke off as the telephone rang. "Hullo… Yes, yes. Much Benham police headquarters… What?… Just a minute." He listened and wrote rapidly. Then he spoke again, a new tone in his voice. "Ruby Keene, eighteen, occupation, professional dancer, five feet four inches, slender, platinum-blond hair, blue eyes, retrousse nose, believed to be wearing white diamante evening dress, silver sandal shoes. Is that right?… What?… Yes, not a doubt of it, I should say. I'll send Slack over at once." He rang off and looked at his subordinate with rising excitement. "We've got it, I think. That was the Glenshire police." Glenshire was the adjoining county "Girl reported missing from the Majestic Hotel, Danemouth."
"Danemouth," said Inspector Slack. "That's more like it." Danemouth was a large and fashionable watering place on the coast not far away. "It's only a matter of eighteen miles or so from here," said the chief constable. "The girl was a dance hostess or something at the Majestic. Didn't come on to do her turn last night and the management was very fed up about it. When she was still missing this morning, one of the other girls got the wind up about her, or someone else did. It sounds a bit obscure. You'd better go over to Danemouth at once Slack. Report there to Superintendent Harper and cooperate with him."
Activity was always to Inspector Slack's taste. To rush in a car, to silence rudely those people who were anxious to tell him things, to cut short conversations on the plea of urgent necessity all this was the breath of life to Inspector Slack. In an incredibly short time, therefore, he had arrived at Danemouth, reported at police headquarters, had a brief interview with a distracted and apprehensive hotel manager, and, leaving the latter with the doubtful comfort of "Got to make sure it is the girl first, before we start raising the wind," was driving back to Much Benham in company with Ruby Keene's nearest relative. He had put through a short call to Much Benham before leaving Danemouth, so the chief constable was prepared for his arrival, though not perhaps for the brief introduction of "This is Josie, sir." Colonel Melchett stared at his subordinate coldly. His feeling was that Slack had taken leave of his senses. The young woman who had just got out of the car came to the rescue. "That's what I'm known as professionally," she explained with a momentary flash of large, handsome white teeth. "Raymond and Josie, my partner and I call ourselves, and of course all the hotel know me as Josie. Josephine Turner's my real name." Colonel Melchett adjusted himself to the situation and invited Miss Turner to sit down, meanwhile casting a swift professional glance over her. She was a good-looking young woman of perhaps nearer thirty than twenty; her looks depending more on skillful grooming than actual features. She looked competent and good-tempered, with plenty of common sense. She was not the type that would ever be described as glamorous, but she had, nevertheless, plenty of attraction. She was discreetly made up and wore a dark tailor-made suit. She looked anxious and upset, but not, the colonel decided, particularly grief-stricken. As she sat down she said, "It all seems too awful to be true. Do you really think it's Ruby?" "That, I'm afraid, is what we've got to ask you to tell us. I'm afraid it may be rather unpleasant for you." Miss Turner said apprehensively, "Does she… does she look very terrible?" "Well, I'm afraid it may be rather a shock to you." "Do do you want me to look at her right away?" "It would be best, I think, Miss Turner. You see, it's not much good asking you questions until we're sure. Best get it over, don't you think?" "All right." They drove down to the mortuary. When Josie came in after a brief visit she looked rather sick. "It's Ruby, right," she said shakily. "Poor girl! [unclear] Goodness, I do There isn't" she looked round wistfully [unclear]
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