âI was,â sobbed Mrs Candour.
âYes. And then I take the jug and hand it to the next person and ââ
âAnd so on,â said Alleyn. Thank you.â
âAnd I was censing over here,â struck in Lionel with passionate determination. âI was censing all the time.â
âYes,â said Alleyn; âand now, Iâm afraid Iâll have to keep you all a little longer. Perhaps, Mr Garnette, you will allow them to wait in your rooms. I am sure you would all like to get away from the scene of this tragedy. I think I hear my colleagues outside.â
There was a resounding knock on the front door.
âOh, may I let them in?â asked Claude.
âPlease do,â said Alleyn.
Claude hurried away down the aisle and opened the double doors. Seven men, three of them constables, came in, in single file, headed by a tall thick-set individual in plain clothes who removed his hat, glanced in mild surprise at the nude statues, and walked stolidly up the aisle.
âHullo, Fox,â said Alleyn.
âEvening, sir,â said Inspector Fox.
âThereâs been some trouble here. One of you men go with these ladies and gentlemen into the room at the back there. Mr Garnette will show you the way. Will you, Mr Garnette? Iâll keep you no longer than I can possibly help. Dr Kasbek, if you wouldnât mind waiting here ââ
âLook here,â said Maurice Pringle suddenly, âIâm damned if I can see why we should be herded about like a mob of sheep. What has happened? Is she murdered?â
âVery probably,â said Alleyn coolly. âNobody is going to herd you, Pringle. You are going to wait quietly and reasonably while we make the necessary investigations. Off you go.â
âBut ââ
âI knew,â cried Mrs Candour suddenly. âI knew something dreadful would happen. M. de Ravigne, didnât I tell you?â
âIf you please, madame!â said de Ravigne with great firmness.
âAll that sort of thing should have been kept out,â said little Miss Wade. âIt should never ââ
âI think we had better follow instructions,â interrupted Father Garnette loudly. âWill you all follow me?â
They trooped away, escorted by the largest of the constables.
âLumme!â ejaculated Alleyn when the altar door had shut. âAs you yourself would say, Fox, âquelle galère.ââ
âA rum crowd,â agreed Fox, âand a very rum place too, seemingly. Whatâs happened, sir?â
âA lady has just died of a dose of cyanide. Thereâs the body. Your old friend Mr Bathgate will tell you about it.â
âGood evening, Mr Bathgate,â said Fox mildly. âYouâve found something else in our line, have you?â
âIt was at the climax of the ceremony,â began Nigel. âA cup was passed round a circle of people, these people whom you have just seen. This woman stood in the middle. The others knelt. A silver jug holding the wine was handed in turn to each of them and each poured a little into the cup. Then the priest, Father Garnette, gave her the cup. She drank it and â and fell down. I think she died at once, didnât she?â
He turned to Dr Kasbek.
âWithin twenty seconds I should say.â The doctor looked at the divisional surgeon.
âI would have tried artificial respiration, sent for ferrous sulphate and a stomach tube and all the rest of it butâ â he grimaced â âthere wasnât a dogâs chance. She was dead before I got to her.â
âI know,â said the divisional surgeon. He lifted the drapery and bent over the body.
âI noticed the characteristic odour at once,â added Kasbek, âand so I think did Mr Bathgate.â
âYes,â agreed Nigel, âthatâs why I butted in.â
Alleyn knelt by the fallen cup and sniffed.
âStinks of it,â he said. âBailey, youâll have to look at this for prints. Not much help if they all handled it. Weâll have photographs first.â
The man with the camera had already begun to set up his paraphernalia. He took three flashlight shots, from different viewpoints, of the body and surrounding area. Alleyn opened the black bag, put on a pair of rubber gloves and took out a small bottle and a tiny funnel. He drained off one or two drops of wine from the cup. While he did this Nigel took the opportunity to relate as much of the conversation of the Initiates as he could remember. Alleyn listened, grunted, and muttered to himself as he restored the little bottle to his bag. Detective-Sergeant Bailey got to work with an insufflator and white chalk.
âWhereâs the original vessel that was handed round by one of these two hothouse flowers?â asked Alleyn. âIs this it?â He pointed to a silver jug standing in a sort of velvet-lined niche on the right side of the chancel.
âThatâs it,â said Nigel. âClaude must have kept his head and put it there when â after it happened.â
âIs Claude the black orchid or the red lily?â
âThe black orchid.â
Alleyn sniffed at the silver jug and filled another bottle from it.
âNothing there though, I fancy,â he murmured. âLet me get a picture of the routine. Miss Quayne stood in the centre here and the others knelt round her. Mr Garnette â I really cannot bring myself to allude to the gentleman as âFatherâ â Mr Garnette produced the cup and the â what does one call it? Decanter is scarcely the word. The flagon, perhaps. He gave the flagon to Master Ganymede Claude, passed his hand over the cup and up jumped a flame. A drop of methylated spirits perhaps.â
âI suppose so,â said Kasbek, looking amused.
âWell. And then the cup was passed from hand to hand by the kneeling circle and each took the flagon from Claude and poured in a libation.â
âEach of them uttered a single word,â interrupted Nigel. âI really have no idea what some of them were.â
âThe name of a diety, I understand,â volunteered Kasbek. âI am not a member of the cult, but Iâve been here before. They pronounce the names of six deities. âHagring,â âHaco,â âFrigga,â and so on. Garnette is Odin and the Chosen Vessel is always Frigga. The idea is that all the godheads are embodied in one godhead and that the essence of each is mingled in the cup. Itâs a kind of popular pantheism.â
âOh, Lord!â said Alleyn. âNow then. The cup went round the circle. When it got to the last man, what happened?â
âHe handed it to the acolyte, who passed it on to the priest, who gave it to Miss Quayne.â
âWho