Dead Water by Ngaio Marsh Page B

but you touched it, do you know?’
    ‘I think not. Excepting of course the culprit.’
    He wrapped it carefully, first in a sheet of writing-paper from the desk and then in his handkerchief. He put it in his pocket.
    ‘Well,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what we can make of all this nonsense.’
    He took her through the events of the last five days and found her account tallied with Superintendent Coombe’s.
    When she had finished he got up and stood over her.
    ‘Now look,’ he said. ‘None of these events can be dismissed as childish. The stones might have caused a serious injury. The trip-wire almost certainly would have done so. The first threats that you got in London have been followed up. You’ve had two other warnings – the figurine and the telephone call. They will be followed up, too. Coombe tells me you suspect Miss Cost. Why?’
    ‘I recognized her voice. You know my ear for the speaking voice, I think.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘On Monday, I interviewed her in her shop. She was in an extremity of anger. This brought on an attack of asthma and that in its turn added to her chagrin.’
    Alleyn asked her if she thought Miss Cost had dogged her to the steps, swarmed up the hill and thrown stones at her, asthma notwithstanding.
    ‘No,’ said Miss Emily coolly. ‘I think that unfortunate child threw the stones. I encountered him after I had left the shop and again outside the hotel. I have no doubt he did it: possibly at his father’s instigation who was incited in the first instance, I daresay, by that ass Cost. The woman is a fool and a fanatic. She is also, I think, a little mad. You saw how she comported herself after that fiasco.’
    ‘Yes, I did. All right. Now, I want your solemn promise that on no condition will you leave your rooms again this evening. You are to dine and breakfast up here. I shall call for you at ten o’clock and I shall drive you back to London or, if you prefer it, put you on the train. There are no two ways about it, Miss Emily. That is what you will do.’
    ‘I will not be cowed by these threats. I will not.’
    ‘Then I shall be obliged to take you into protective custody and you won’t much fancy that, I promise you,’ Alleyn said and hoped it sounded convincing.
    Miss Emily’s eyes filled with angry tears.
    ‘Roderique – to me? To your old institutrice?’
    ‘Yes, Miss Emily.’ He bent down and gave her a kiss: the first he had ever ventured upon. ‘To my old institutrice,’ he said. ‘I shall set a great strapping policewoman over you and if that doesn’t answer, I shall lock you up, Miss Emily.’
    Miss Emily dabbed her eyes.
    ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I don’t believe you, of course, but very well.’
    Alleyn put on his shoes.
    ‘Where are you staying?’ she asked.
    ‘Coombe’s giving me a bed. The pubs are full. I must go. It’s seven o’clock.’
    ‘You will dine with me, perhaps?’
    ‘I don’t think – ’ He stopped. ‘On second thoughts,’ he said, ‘I should be delighted. Thank you very much.’
    ‘Are you going to “taste” my wine?’ she asked, ironically.
    ‘And I might do that, too,’ he said.
III
    He left her at nine.
    She had settled for the eleven o’clock train from Dunlowman in the morning. He had arranged to book a seat for her and drive her to the station. He had also telephoned her bonne-à-tout-faire as she called the pugnacious Cockney who, in spite of Miss Emily’s newly acquired riches, served her still. He saw that the outside doors to her apartment could be locked and made certain that, on his departure, she would lock them. He bade her good night and went downstairs, wondering how big a fuss he might be making over nothing in particular.
    Major Barrimore was in the office smelling very strongly of whisky, smoking a large cigar and poring uncertainly over a copy of The Racing Supplement. Alleyn approached him.
    ‘Major Barrimore? Miss Pride has asked me to tell you she will be leaving at ten in the morning and