A Spider in the Cup (Joe Sandilands Investigation) by Barbara Cleverly
Authors: Barbara Cleverly
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waiting.” Joe identified the professor of archaeology. “I should be obliged, Sandilands, if you would take me first.”
Joe smiled broadly. “Punctuality is the politeness of princes—and of the Met, I’m pleased to say. I will put you in a squad car at two thirty, sir. You have my word on that. But our good manners extend also to respect for the fair sex.” He had noticed that one of the group, the young woman, appeared on the point of collapse. “I’m going to take Miss da Silva first.”
She sighed and smiled in relief.
“Now, the inspector, whom you know, will take the rest of you next door to wait your turn. Time is of the essence and I sense that you are not the kind of people to waste yours or mine. This will go a lot faster than you are expecting. Orford, can we arrange to have coffee served to those waiting?”
Orford marched off to do just that.
Doris da Silva stayed behind when the rest shuffled off and she sank instantly onto a chair.
Joe made notes as she outlined her relationship with the other dowsers, gave a brief but clear account of her special skills and confided how shocking she had found the whole experience. Never again, was her concluding remark. She had broken her wand in two and thrown the pieces into the river. After a few follow-up questions Joe was able to dismiss her with his warm thanks in eight minutes flat. Doris brightened and told him she would wait for Miss Herbert, who was taking her home in a taxi.
“Perhaps you’d be good enough to ask Miss Herbert to come in now?”
“W ELL, C OMMISSIONER, WHAT did she die of?”
Hermione Herbert took over the questioning the moment she sat down.
“The autopsy is still in progress. Samples of tissue and stomach contents are being analysed in our laboratory. We hope to have a result before the end of the day.”
“But you must have some idea?” she pressed him.
“A thousand ideas, Miss Herbert, and you can be certain that nine hundred and ninety-nine of them will be wrong if I share them with you now. I don’t speculate. I draw conclusions from evidence when that evidence is in.”
She nodded, accepted the gentle rebuke, and asked less sharply, “Have you established her identity? We are all concerned for her … and her family.”
“Not yet. We hope to have her name at any moment. Now—you are an experienced medical practitioner? A Matron, I understand?” He listened as she outlined succinctly her nursing career. “I have to tell you that our pathologist confirms all you had to say at the scene as far as I can judge from the notes made by my inspector.”
“A young fellow, your physician,” she commented. “They need the occasional guiding hand under their elbow. It would have been easy to miss the pin prick under the hair behind her left ear. From a syringe most probably. Did he pick that up?”
Joe smiled. “He did indeed. Nothing escapes Doctor Rippon. And the severed toe, of course, he could hardly miss …”
“Strange that. Hard to account for. Trophy? Men do have their disgusting ways. It’s probably sitting on the villain’s bathroom shelf in a bottle of formaldehyde. And such a distinctive toe! She was a ballet dancer, you know. All the signs were there.”
“Yes, indeed. Such was our conclusion. The ranks of the Ballets Russes are being combed at this minute. And of the rival company at Covent Garden.”
“Why would anyone seek to disfigure her body in this unpleasant way? A toe! The essential part of her physical equipment? These girls are still referred to as ‘toe dancers.’ A message there? Did someone envy her prowess?”
“I can’t imagine it, but then—it’s hard to imagine any motive for destroying such beauty and, I assume, talent.”
“Oh, talent, certainly. An appearance even in the chorus linedenotes years of hard toil by a talented performer. She will be missed, whoever she is. He couldn’t have done the girl any further harm after her death,” Hermione put forward
Joe smiled broadly. “Punctuality is the politeness of princes—and of the Met, I’m pleased to say. I will put you in a squad car at two thirty, sir. You have my word on that. But our good manners extend also to respect for the fair sex.” He had noticed that one of the group, the young woman, appeared on the point of collapse. “I’m going to take Miss da Silva first.”
She sighed and smiled in relief.
“Now, the inspector, whom you know, will take the rest of you next door to wait your turn. Time is of the essence and I sense that you are not the kind of people to waste yours or mine. This will go a lot faster than you are expecting. Orford, can we arrange to have coffee served to those waiting?”
Orford marched off to do just that.
Doris da Silva stayed behind when the rest shuffled off and she sank instantly onto a chair.
Joe made notes as she outlined her relationship with the other dowsers, gave a brief but clear account of her special skills and confided how shocking she had found the whole experience. Never again, was her concluding remark. She had broken her wand in two and thrown the pieces into the river. After a few follow-up questions Joe was able to dismiss her with his warm thanks in eight minutes flat. Doris brightened and told him she would wait for Miss Herbert, who was taking her home in a taxi.
“Perhaps you’d be good enough to ask Miss Herbert to come in now?”
“W ELL, C OMMISSIONER, WHAT did she die of?”
Hermione Herbert took over the questioning the moment she sat down.
“The autopsy is still in progress. Samples of tissue and stomach contents are being analysed in our laboratory. We hope to have a result before the end of the day.”
“But you must have some idea?” she pressed him.
“A thousand ideas, Miss Herbert, and you can be certain that nine hundred and ninety-nine of them will be wrong if I share them with you now. I don’t speculate. I draw conclusions from evidence when that evidence is in.”
She nodded, accepted the gentle rebuke, and asked less sharply, “Have you established her identity? We are all concerned for her … and her family.”
“Not yet. We hope to have her name at any moment. Now—you are an experienced medical practitioner? A Matron, I understand?” He listened as she outlined succinctly her nursing career. “I have to tell you that our pathologist confirms all you had to say at the scene as far as I can judge from the notes made by my inspector.”
“A young fellow, your physician,” she commented. “They need the occasional guiding hand under their elbow. It would have been easy to miss the pin prick under the hair behind her left ear. From a syringe most probably. Did he pick that up?”
Joe smiled. “He did indeed. Nothing escapes Doctor Rippon. And the severed toe, of course, he could hardly miss …”
“Strange that. Hard to account for. Trophy? Men do have their disgusting ways. It’s probably sitting on the villain’s bathroom shelf in a bottle of formaldehyde. And such a distinctive toe! She was a ballet dancer, you know. All the signs were there.”
“Yes, indeed. Such was our conclusion. The ranks of the Ballets Russes are being combed at this minute. And of the rival company at Covent Garden.”
“Why would anyone seek to disfigure her body in this unpleasant way? A toe! The essential part of her physical equipment? These girls are still referred to as ‘toe dancers.’ A message there? Did someone envy her prowess?”
“I can’t imagine it, but then—it’s hard to imagine any motive for destroying such beauty and, I assume, talent.”
“Oh, talent, certainly. An appearance even in the chorus linedenotes years of hard toil by a talented performer. She will be missed, whoever she is. He couldn’t have done the girl any further harm after her death,” Hermione put forward
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