When in Rome by Ngaio Marsh

order to guard against shutting someone in.’
    ‘What’s he doing, skulking down there?’ the Major demanded. ‘I call it a damn poor show. Leaving us high and dry.’ He attacked Grant. ‘Look here, Grant, you’re on the strength here, aren’t you? Part of the organization, whatever it is.’
    ‘Absolutely not. I’ve nothing to do with it. Or him,’ Grant added under his breath.
    ‘My dear fellow, your name appears in their literature.’
    ‘In a purely honorary capacity.’
    ‘I suppose,’ Kenneth said, ‘it’s publicity for you, isn’t it?’
    ‘I’m not in need—’ Grant began and then turned white. ‘Isn’t all this beside the point?’ he asked Alleyn.
    ‘I’d have thought so. The people in charge have gone down to find him. There’s a complete system of fluorescent lighting kept for maintenance, excavation and emergencies. If he’s there they’ll find him.’
    ‘He may have been taken ill or something,’ Sophy hazarded.
    ‘That is so, that is so,’ cried the Van der Veghels like some rudimentary chorus. They often spoke in unison. ‘He is of a sickly appearance,’ the Baroness added. ‘And sweats a great deal,’ said her husband, clinching the proposition.
    The two drivers now crossed the road. Giovanni, the one who spoke English and acted as an assistant guide, invited the ladies and gentlemen to take their seats in the cars. Alleyn asked if they had seen Mr Mailer. The drivers put their heads on one side and raised their hands and shoulders. No.
    ‘Perhaps,’ Lady Braceley said in an exhausted voice, ‘he’s fallen down those horrid-awful stairs. Poorest Mr Mailer. Do you know, I think I will sit in the car. I’m no good at standing about on my gilded pins.’
    She swivelled one of her collective stares between Grant, Alleyn and the Baron and got into the car, finding a moment to smile into the face of Giovanni as he opened the door. Established, she leant out of the window. ‘The offer of a cigarette,’ she said, ‘would be met in the spirit in which it was made.’
    But only Kenneth, it seemed, could oblige and did so, leaning his face down to his aunt’s as he offered his lighter. They spoke together, scarcely moving their lips and for a moment or two looked alike.
    Grant muttered to Alleyn, ‘This is a bloody rum turn-up for the books, isn’t it?’ ‘Rum enough, yes.’
    Sophy said, ‘Of course, they’ll find him, won’t they? I mean they must.’
    ‘You were together, weren’t you, after the rest of us left?’
    ‘Yes,’ they said.
    ‘And returned together?’
    ‘Of course,’ Grant said. ‘You saw us. Why?’
    ‘You were the last out by some moments. You didn’t hear anything? Mailer’s wearing rather heavy shoes. They made quite a noise, I noticed, on the iron steps.’
    No, they said. They hadn’t heard a thing.
    ‘I think I’ll go back, Grant. Care to come?’
    ‘Back? You mean—down below again?’
    ‘If necessary.’
    ‘I’ll come,’ Grant said, ‘as far as the office—the shop. I’m not madly keen to traipse round the nether regions after Mailer. If he’s there the staff’ll find him.’
    ‘All right. But don’t you think something ought to be done about this lot?’
    ‘Look here,’ Grant said angrily, ‘I’ve already said I accept no responsibility for this turn-out. Or for anyone in it—‘ his voice wavered and he glanced at Sophy. ‘Except Miss Jason who’s on her own.’
    ‘I’m all right,’ Sophy said airily and to Alleyn, ‘What should we do? Can you suggest anything?’
    ‘Suppose you all carry on with your picnic on the Palatine Hill? The drivers will take you there. The one that speaks English—Giovanni—seems to be a sort of second-in-command. I’m sure he’ll take over. No doubt they’ll unpack hampers and lay on the charm: they’re wonderful at that. I’ll unearth Mailer and if he’s all right we’ll follow you up. It’ll be a lovely evening on the Palatine Hill.’
    ‘What do you think?’