house?”
“Oh not a bit, Sir. She knew all about it. A very cheerful lady and very friendly and polite.”
“Do you think she and Mr Radeechy got on well together?”
“Devoted, Sir, I should say. I’ve never seen a gentleman so plain miserable as he was after she died. He didn’t do any magic for months.”
“Mrs Radeechy wasn’t upset by Mr Radeechy’s magic?”
“Well, I never saw her upset by anything, but it must have got her down a bit because of the girls.”
“The girls—?”
“Yes, you see the magic needed girls.”
Now we’re coming to it, thought Ducane. He shivered slightly and the room vibrated quietly with electrical animal emanations. “Yes, I understand that many magic rituals involve girls, often virgins. Perhaps you could tell me a little about these ones.”
“I don’t know about virgins !” said McGrath, and laughed a slightly crazy laugh.
Radeechy had him fascinated, it occurred to Ducane. There was a kind of mad admiration in McGrath’s laugh. “You mean the girls whom Mr Radeechy—used—were—well, what were they like? Did you meet them?”
“I saw them a bit, yes,” said McGrath. He was now becoming cautious. He rocked his hand to disturb the persistent fly. He looked up at Ducane, signalling with his colourless eyebrows. “Tarts, I’d say they were. I never properly saw him at it, mind you.”
“What do you think he did with the girls?” said Ducane. He found himself smiling at McGrath, encouragingly, perhaps conspiratorially. The subject matter imposed, almost without their wills, a cosy masculine atmosphere.
“Do with them?” said McGrath, smiling too. “Well, you know I never saw really, though I did creep back once or twice, and I looked through a window. I was curious, you see. You’d have been curious too, Sir.”
“I expect I would,” said Ducane.
“I mean, I don’t think he did any of the usual things, it wasn’t that, he was a pretty odd chappie. He had a girl once lying down on a table, and there was a sort of silver cup balanced on her tummy. She had nothing on, mind you.”
Ducane thought, a black mass. “Did he have the girls there one at a time or several at once?”
“One at a time, Sir, only they couldn’t always come, so there were three or four regulars. Once a week it was, punctual on Sundays, and sometimes a special one extra.”
“Anything else that you saw?”
“Not so to speak saw . But he had some rather queer things lying around.”
“What, for instance?”
“Well, whips and daggers and things. But I never saw him use them, on the girls, I mean.”
“I see,” said Ducane. “Well, now tell me something about Helen of Troy.”
“Helen of Troy?” McGrath’s white face turned to a uniform light pink. He withdrew his hands from the desk. “I don’t know anybody of that name.”
“Come, come, Mr McGrath,” said Ducane. “We know you mentioned someone of that name in your story to the press. Who is it?”
“Oh, Helen of Troy ,” said McGrath vaguely, as if some other Helen had been in question. “Yes, I believe there was a young lady of that name. She was just one of the young ladies.”
“Why did you say just now you hadn’t heard of her?”
“I didn’t hear rightly what you said.”
“Hmmm. Well, now tell me about her.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” said McGrath. “I didn’t know anything about the girls. I didn’t really meet them. I just heard that one’s name and it sort of stuck in my head.”
He’s lying, Ducane thought. There’s something about this particular girl. He said, “Do you know the names of these girls and where they could be found? The police may want to question them.”
“ The police? ” McGrath’s face crinkled up as if he were going to cry.
“Yes,” said Ducane smoothly. “It’s a pure formality of course. They may be needed at the inquest.”
This was untrue. It had already been arranged with the police that the inquest, which was to take place
“Oh not a bit, Sir. She knew all about it. A very cheerful lady and very friendly and polite.”
“Do you think she and Mr Radeechy got on well together?”
“Devoted, Sir, I should say. I’ve never seen a gentleman so plain miserable as he was after she died. He didn’t do any magic for months.”
“Mrs Radeechy wasn’t upset by Mr Radeechy’s magic?”
“Well, I never saw her upset by anything, but it must have got her down a bit because of the girls.”
“The girls—?”
“Yes, you see the magic needed girls.”
Now we’re coming to it, thought Ducane. He shivered slightly and the room vibrated quietly with electrical animal emanations. “Yes, I understand that many magic rituals involve girls, often virgins. Perhaps you could tell me a little about these ones.”
“I don’t know about virgins !” said McGrath, and laughed a slightly crazy laugh.
Radeechy had him fascinated, it occurred to Ducane. There was a kind of mad admiration in McGrath’s laugh. “You mean the girls whom Mr Radeechy—used—were—well, what were they like? Did you meet them?”
“I saw them a bit, yes,” said McGrath. He was now becoming cautious. He rocked his hand to disturb the persistent fly. He looked up at Ducane, signalling with his colourless eyebrows. “Tarts, I’d say they were. I never properly saw him at it, mind you.”
“What do you think he did with the girls?” said Ducane. He found himself smiling at McGrath, encouragingly, perhaps conspiratorially. The subject matter imposed, almost without their wills, a cosy masculine atmosphere.
“Do with them?” said McGrath, smiling too. “Well, you know I never saw really, though I did creep back once or twice, and I looked through a window. I was curious, you see. You’d have been curious too, Sir.”
“I expect I would,” said Ducane.
“I mean, I don’t think he did any of the usual things, it wasn’t that, he was a pretty odd chappie. He had a girl once lying down on a table, and there was a sort of silver cup balanced on her tummy. She had nothing on, mind you.”
Ducane thought, a black mass. “Did he have the girls there one at a time or several at once?”
“One at a time, Sir, only they couldn’t always come, so there were three or four regulars. Once a week it was, punctual on Sundays, and sometimes a special one extra.”
“Anything else that you saw?”
“Not so to speak saw . But he had some rather queer things lying around.”
“What, for instance?”
“Well, whips and daggers and things. But I never saw him use them, on the girls, I mean.”
“I see,” said Ducane. “Well, now tell me something about Helen of Troy.”
“Helen of Troy?” McGrath’s white face turned to a uniform light pink. He withdrew his hands from the desk. “I don’t know anybody of that name.”
“Come, come, Mr McGrath,” said Ducane. “We know you mentioned someone of that name in your story to the press. Who is it?”
“Oh, Helen of Troy ,” said McGrath vaguely, as if some other Helen had been in question. “Yes, I believe there was a young lady of that name. She was just one of the young ladies.”
“Why did you say just now you hadn’t heard of her?”
“I didn’t hear rightly what you said.”
“Hmmm. Well, now tell me about her.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” said McGrath. “I didn’t know anything about the girls. I didn’t really meet them. I just heard that one’s name and it sort of stuck in my head.”
He’s lying, Ducane thought. There’s something about this particular girl. He said, “Do you know the names of these girls and where they could be found? The police may want to question them.”
“ The police? ” McGrath’s face crinkled up as if he were going to cry.
“Yes,” said Ducane smoothly. “It’s a pure formality of course. They may be needed at the inquest.”
This was untrue. It had already been arranged with the police that the inquest, which was to take place
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