Artists in Crime by Ngaio Marsh Page B

Basil?”
    Alleyn looked to see how Pilgrim would take this remark. He thought that for a moment he saw a look of reluctant surprise.
    “Darling!” said Pilgrim, “of course we were.” And then in his eyes appeared the reflection of her beauty, and he stared at her with the solemn alarm of a man very deeply in love.
    “Were there any more upheavals after this?” asked Alleyn after a pause.
    “Not exactly,” answered Troy. “She was chastened a bit. The others let her see that they thought she’d — she’d— ”
    “I went crook at her,” announced Hatchett. “I told her I reckoned she was— ”
    “Pipe down, Hatchett.”
    “Good-oh, Miss Troy.”
    “We were all livid,” said Katti Bostock hotly. “I could have mur—” She stopped short. “Well, there you are, you see.” she said doggedly. “I could have murdered her but I didn’t. She knew how I felt, and she took it out in the sittings she gave me.”
    “It was sacrilege,” squeaked Phillida Lee. “That exquisite thing. To see it with that obscene— ”
    “Shut up, Lee, for God’s sake,” said Katti Bostock.
    “Oddly enough,” murmured Malmsley, “Garcia seemed to take it as heavily as anybody. Worse if anything. Do you know, he was actually ill, Troy? I found him in the garden, a most distressing sight.”
    “How extraordinary!” said Valmai Seacliff vaguely. “I always thought he was entirely without emotion. Oh, but of course— ”
    “Of course — what?” asked Alleyn.
    “Well, it
was
a portrait of me, wasn’t it? I attracted him
tremendously
in the physical sense. I suppose that was why he was sick.”
    “Oh, bilge and bosh!” said Katti Bostock.
    “Think so?” said Seacliff quite amiably.
    “Can any of you tell me on what sort of footing the model and Mr. Garcia were during the last week?” asked Alleyn.
    “Well, I told you she’d been his mistress,” said Malmsley. “He said that himself during Friday afternoon.”
    “Not while they were here, I hope,” said Troy. “I told him I wouldn’t have anything like that.”
    “He said so. He was very pained and hurt at your attitude, I gathered.”
    “Well, I
know
there was something going on, anyway,” said Phillida Lee, with a triumphant squeak. “I’ve been waiting to tell the superintendent this, but you were all so busy talking, I didn’t get a
chance
. I know Sonia wanted him to marry her.”
    “Why, Miss Lee?”
    “Well, they were always whispering together, and I went to the studio one day, about a week ago, I think, and there they were having a session — I mean, they were talking — nothing else.”
    “You seem to have had a good many lucky dips in the studio, Lee,” said Katti Bostock. “What did you overhear this time?”
    “You needn’t be so acid. It may turn out a mercy I did hear them. Mayn’t it, Superintendent?” She appealed to Alleyn.
    “I haven’t risen to superintendent heights, Miss Lee. But please do tell me what you heard.”
    “As a matter of fact, it wasn’t
very
much, but it was exciting. Garcia said: ‘All right — on Friday night, then.’ And Sonia said:‘Yes, if it’s possible.’ Then there was quite a long pause and she said: ‘I won’t stand for any funny business with
her
, you know.‘ And Garcia said: ‘Who?’ and she said — I’m sorry, Mr. Alleyn — but she said: ‘The Seacliff bitch, of course.’ ” Miss Lee turned pink. “I
am
sorry, Mr. Alleyn.”
    “Miss Seacliff will understand the exigencies of a verbatim report,” said Alleyn with the faintest possible twinkle.
    “Oh, I’ve heard all about it. She knew what he was up to, of course,” said Valmai Seacliff. She produced a lipstick and mirror and, with absorbed attention, made up her lovely mouth.
    “Why didn’t you tell me the swine was pestering you?” Pilgrim asked her.
    “My sweet — I could manage Garcia perfectly well,” said Seacliff with a little chuckle.
    “Anything more, Miss Lee?” asked Alleyn.
    “Well, yes.