They turned and found the wicker-worker hard at their heels, followed by long trails of withy.
‘Sir!’ said the wicker-worker in consternation.
‘Tell me,’ Alleyn went on, ‘why are you presenting the Cries of London to an astonished world?’
‘Well, sir,’ said the chair-mender, ‘following your instructions, I proceeded –’
‘Quite. But you should understand by this time that the art of disguise is very often unnecessary and is to be attained by simpler means than those which embrace a great outlay in willow wands, envious slivers, and cabriole legs. What, may I ask, would you have done with all this gear when the hunt was up?’
‘There’s a taxi rank round the corner, sir. If I whistled –’
‘And a pretty sight you’d have looked,’ said Fox indignantly, ‘whistling cabs in that rig-out. By the time you’d wound yourself in and out of that muck and got yourself aboard, your man would have been half-way to Lord knows where. If that’s the sort of stuff they teach you at –’
‘Yes, all right, Fox,’ said Alleyn hastily. ‘Very true. Now, look here, Carewe, you go away and undress and report to me at the Yard. You can go back by Underground. Don’t look so miserable or the old ladies will start giving you coppers.’
Carewe departed.
‘Now then, Fox,’ Alleyn continued, ‘give me a few minutes in that flat and then ring up as if from the Yard and keep Dimitri’s servant on the telephone as long as possible. You’d better have a list of names and places. Say Dimitri has given them to you and say you will be able to confirm them. All right?’
‘Right oh, Mr Alleyn.’
‘You can use the call-box at the taxi rank. Then away with you to the Yard and keep Dimitri going until I come. Arrange to have him tailed when he leaves.’
Alleyn returned to Dimitri’s flat which was on the ground floor. The door was opened by a thin dark man who exuded quintessence of waiter.
‘Is Mr Dimitri in?’ asked Alleyn.
‘Monsieur has just left, sir. May I take a message?’
‘He’s gone, has he?’ said Alleyn very pleasantly. ‘What a bore, I’ve just missed him. Do you know if he was going to Scotland Yard?’
The man hesitated.
‘I’m not sure, sir. I think –’
‘Look here,’ said Alleyn, ‘I’m Chief Inspector Alleyn. Here’s my card. I was in this part of the world and I thought I’d save Mr Dimitri the trouble of moving if I called. As I am here I may as well get you to clear up one or two points for me. Do you mind?’
‘Please, sir! Not at all, but it is a little difficult –’
‘It is rather, out here. May I come in?’ asked Alleyn, and walked in without waiting for the answer.
He found himself in a sitting-room that had an air of wearing a touch of black satin at the neck and wrists but was otherwise unremarkable. The servant followed him and stood looking uneasily at his own hands.
‘You will have guessed,’ Alleyn began, ‘that I am here on business connected with the death of Lord Robert Gospell.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘The first thing I have to say is that we would be glad if you’d use great discretion in discussing this affair. Indeed it would be better if you did not discuss it at all, with anybody. Except of course, Mr Dimitri himself.’
The man looked relieved.
‘But it is understood perfectly, sir. Monsieur has already warned me of this himself. I shall be most discreet.’
‘Splendid. We feel it our duty to protect Mr Dimitri and any other person of position from the unpleasant notoriety that unfortunately accompanies such accidents as these.’
‘Yes, certainly, sir. Monsier himself was most emphatic.’
‘I’m sure he was. You will understand,’ Alleyn went on, ‘that it is also necessary to have before us a clear account of the movements of many persons. What is your name?’
‘François, sir, François Dupont.’
‘Were you at Marsdon House last night?’
‘Yes, sir. By an unusual chance I was there.’
‘How did that happen?’
‘An important member of our staff failed M. Dimitri yesterday afternoon. It seems that he was afflicted suddenly with appendicitis. M. Dimitri was unable to replace him satisfactorily at so short notice and I took his place.’
‘This was unusual?’
‘Yes, sir. I am M. Dimitri’s personal servant.’
‘Where were you stationed at Marsdon House?’ A telephone rang in the entrance passage. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ said the servant. ‘The telephone.’
‘That’s all right,’ said Alleyn.
The man went out closing the door softly behind him.
Alleyn darted into an adjoining bedroom, leaving the door ajar. He opened built-in cupboards, ran his hands between hanging suits, amongst neatly stacked shirts and under-garments, disturbing nothing, exploring everywhere. Thanking his stars that the drawers ran easily he moved with economy, swiftness and extreme precision. The adjoining bedroom was innocently naked. Dimitri’s servant looked after him well. There was no hiding-place anywhere for a bulky cloth cloak. Everything was decently ordered. Alleyn returned silently to the sitting-room. He could hear the servant’s voice:
‘Hullo? Hullo? Yes, sir. I am still here. Yes, sir, that is quite correct. It is as Monsieur Dimitri says, sir. We returned together at three-thirty in a taxi. At three-thirty. No, sir, no. At three-thirty. I am sorry, sir, I will repeat. At three-thirty we return –’
The sideboard contained only bottles and glasses, the bookcases only books. The desk was locked but it was a small one. Dimitri and his servant were tidy men with few possessions. Alleyn opened the last cupboard. It contained two suitcases. He tipped them gingerly. No sound of anything. He opened them. They were empty. Alleyn shut the cupboard door tenderly and returned to the middle of the sitting-room where he stood with his head slanted, listening to Dimitri’s servant whose voice had risen to a painful falsetto.
‘But I am telling you. Permit me to speak. Your colleague is here. He is about to ask me all these questions himself. He has given me his card. It is the Chief Inspector All-eyne. Ah, mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!’
Alleyn went into the passage. He found François with his shoulders up to his ears and his unoccupied hand sketching desperation to the air.
‘What is it?’ asked Alleyn. ‘Is it for me?’
‘Here is M. l’Inspecteur!’ screamed François into the receiver. ‘Will you have the goodness –’
Alleyn addressed the telephone.
‘Hullo!’
‘Hullo there!’ Fox’s voice in accents of exasperation.
‘Is that you, Fox? What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing, I hope, Mr Alleyn,’ said Fox, falling back on an indistinct mumble.
‘It’s Alleyn, here. There’s been a slight misunderstanding. I have missed Mr Dimitri but will come along as soon as possible. Will you ask him to wait? Apologize for me.’
‘I hope there was time. I’ll get along to the Yard now.’
‘Very well. That’s perfectly all right,’ said Alleyn and rang off.