‘It’s a perfectly tenable theory,’ said Alleyn, ‘at present. Can you give me anything more than her condition and her conversation in the bedroom? Motive?’
‘They have been at daggers drawn for years. Once or twice they have separated. Not legally. Gabriel would never have considered a divorce, I’m sure. He wouldn’t like the idea of displaying his failure, he would never admit that anything he did was a mistake. And I don’t suppose Violet has ever been normal enough to think of getting rid of him. She seemed to have merely settled down to hating him. And even if she had ever thought of it I don’t suppose she’d altogether fancy the idea. I mean there are certain amenities – Deepacres and the London house and all the rest of it. She could have divorced him, of course. He had a series of rather squalid little affairs that everybody knew about and nobody mentioned. They’d loathed each other for years, in a dreary sort of way, but this afternoon there was something quite different. I mean Violet seemed to be actively venomous. It was as if she had poured all her dislikes of other people or things into one enormous hatred of Gabriel. That’s how it was, exactly.’
‘I see. When do you think she could have done it?’
‘I’ve been thinking it out. You see, she left Aunt Kit and me in the bedroom round about the first time Gabriel yelled for her. She didn’t come back until after the second time he yelled, and then we both went along to the landing and I went into the drawing-room. There was no one else on the landing or in the hall.’
‘Did she seem very odd at that time?’
‘I can’t tell you how strange and ominous. I put out my hand to bring her along the passage, but she drew away as though I’d hit her and followed behind me. I was almost alarmed. I scuttled away as quickly as I could to get out of her reach. But she muttered along after me. It was like having a doubtful dog at one’s heels. At any moment I expected her to growl and snap.’
There was a pause. Alleyn had turned aside and moved to one of the windows. Fox looked up in surprise.
‘Mr Alleyn,’ said Lady Charles, ‘what are you doing? You – you’re not laughing?’
Alleyn turned round. His face was scarlet. He stood before her, his hands stretched out. ‘Lady Charles,’ he said, ‘I fully deserve that you should report me and have me turned out of the force. I’ve done the unforgivable thing – there’s no excuse for me but I do apologize with all my heart.’
‘I don’t want you to be turned out of any force. But why did you laugh?’
‘It – I’m afraid the explanation will only add to the offence. I – you see –’
‘It was at me,’ said Lady Charles with conviction. The strain had gone from her voice. ‘People do laugh at me. But what did I say? Mr Alleyn, I insist on knowing what it was.’
‘It was nothing. There are some people who can’t hold back a nervous laugh when they hear of somebody’s death. Heaven knows, a detective officer isn’t one of them, but I’m afraid that if I hear anything very sinister and dramatic related with great empressment, it sometimes has that effect on me. It was the way you described Lady Wutherwood as she followed you, muttering. I – it’s no use. I’m abject.’
‘I suppose you’re not a relation of ours by any chance,’ said Lady Charles thoughtfully.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘You never know. All the Lampreys laugh at disastrous pieces of news so I thought you might be. We must go into it some time. I’m a distant Lamprey myself, you know. Nothing hygienically sinister. What was your mother’s maiden name?’
‘Blandish,’ said Alleyn helplessly.
‘I must ask Charlie. Blandish. But in the meantime hadn’t we better go back to poor Violet?’
‘By all means.’
‘Not that there’s very much more to say. Except that she might have done it instead of going to the lavatory or while I was in the drawing-room, although she would have to be pretty nippy to manage it then.’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that all?’
‘One other question. Can you give the name of the doctor Lady Wutherwood saw before she went to the nursing-home?’
‘Good Heavens, no! It was years ago.’
‘Or the nursing-home?’
‘It was in Devonshire. Could it have been on Dartmoor or am I thinking of something else?’
‘How did you get on, Mama?’ asked Frid in French.
‘Not so badly,’ answered her mother in the same tongue. ‘I have made him laugh, at least.’
‘Laugh!’ Lord Charles ejaculated. ‘Mon Dieu, what at?’
‘I had to work for it,’ said Charlot wearily. ‘He thinks I’m a sort of elderly enfant terrible. He thinks he made the most formidable gaffe in laughing at me. He apologized quite charmingly.’
‘I hope you didn’t overdo it, Immy.’
‘Not I, darling. He hasn’t the faintest inkling of what I was up to. Don’t worry. Soyez tranquil.’
‘Soyez tranquil,’ wrote PC Martin faithfully, on the last page of his notebook, and with a sigh, took a fresh one from the pocket of his tunic.
‘Blast that woman!’ said Alleyn in the dining-room. ‘She was determined to break me up, and damn her, so she did. I hope she thinks she got away with it.’
‘You apologized very nicely, Mr Alleyn,’ said Fox. ‘I expect she does.’
‘We’ll have the twins, Gibson,’ said Alleyn.
‘You see,’ said Alleyn, looking carefully at the twins, ‘you are not absolutely identical. In almost everybody the distance between the outer corner of the left-hand eye and the left-hand corner of the mouth, is not precisely the same as the distance between the outer corner of the right-hand eye and the right-hand corner of the mouth. A line drawn through both eyes and prolonged is hardly ever parallel with a line drawn along the lips and prolonged. You get an open-angle and close-angled side to every face. That’s why the reflection in a looking-glass of somebody you know very well, always seems distorted and queer. In both of your faces, the close angle is on the left. But in Lord Stephen the angle is the least fraction more emphatic.’
‘Is this the B-b-Bertillion system?’ asked Stephen. ‘P-portrait parlé?’
‘A version of it,’ said Alleyn. ‘Bertillion paid great attention to ears. He divided the ear into twelve major sections and noticed a great many subdivisions. Yours are not quite