“Portcarrow 1212.”
“You’ll keep in touch?”
“That’ll be quite all right, sir. We’ll do that for you.”
“Thank you,” Alleyn said. “No matter what they say, I’ve got great faith in the police. Good-bye.”
He heard Coombe give a chuckle, and hung up.
“Oh, Rory!” his wife said. “Not again? Not this time? It’s being such fun, our holiday!”
“I’m going to talk to her. Come here to me and keep your fingers crossed. She’s hell when she’s roused. Come here.”
He kept his arm round her while he waited for the call to go through. When at last Miss Emily spoke, from her room at the Boy-and-Lobster, Troy could hear her quite clearly though she had some difficulty in understanding, since Miss Emily spoke in French. So did Alleyn.
“Miss Emily, how are you getting on?”
“Perfectly well, I thank you, Rodrigue.”
“Have there been unpleasantnesses of the sort that were threatened?”
“Nothing of moment. Do not disarrange yourself on my account.”
“You have been hurt.”
“It was superficial.”
“You might well have been hurt again.”
“I think not.”
“Miss Emily, I must ask you to leave the Island.”
“In effect: you have spoken to the good Superintendent Coombe. It was kind, but it was not necessary. I shall not leave the Island.”
“Your behaviour is, I’m afraid, both foolish and inconsiderate.”
“Indeed? Explain yourself.”
“You are giving a great deal of anxiety and trouble to other people. You are being silly, Miss Emily.”
“That,” said Miss Emily distinctly, “was an improper observation.”
“Unfortunately, not. If you persist I shall feel myself obliged to intervene.”
“Do you mean, my friend,” said Miss Emily with evident amusement, “that you will have me arrested?”
“I wish I could. I wish I could put you under protective custody.”
“I am already protected by the local officer, who is, for example, a man of intelligence. His name is Pender.”
“Miss Emily, if you persist you will force me to leave my wife.”
“That is nonsense.”
“Will you give me your word of honour that you will not leave the hotel unaccompanied?”
“Very well,” said Miss Emily after a pause. “Understood.”
“And that you will not sit alone on a shelf? Or anywhere? At any time?”
“There is no room for a second occupant on the shelf.”
“There must be room somewhere. Another shelf. Somewhere.”
“It would not be convenient.”
“Nor is it convenient for me to leave my wife and come traipsing down to your beastly Island.”
“I beg that you will do no such thing. I assure you —” Her voice stopped short. He would have thought that the call had been cut off if he hadn’t quite distinctly heard Miss Emily catch her breath in a sharp gasp. Something had fallen.
“Miss Emily!” he said. “Hullo! Hullo! Miss Emily!”
“Very well,” her voice said. “I can hear you. Perfectly.”
“What happened?”
“I was interrupted.”
“Something’s wrong. What is it?”
“’No, no. It is nothing. I knocked a book over. Rodrigue, I beg that you do not break your holiday. It would be rather ridiculous. It would displease me extremely, you understand. I assure you that I will do nothing foolish. Good-bye, my dear boy.”
She replaced the receiver.
Alleyn sat with his arm still round his wife. “Something happened,” he said. “She sounded frightened. I swear she was frightened. Damn and blast Miss Emily for a pigheaded old effigy. What the hell does she think she’s up to?”
“Darling: She promised to be sensible. She doesn’t want you to go. Does she, now?”
“She was frightened,” he repeated. “And she wouldn’t say why.”
At the same moment Miss Emily, with her hand pressed to her heart, was staring at the object she had exposed when she had knocked the telephone directory on its side.
This object was a crude plastic image of a Green Lady. A piece of ruled paper had been jammed down over the head, and on it was pasted a single word of newsprint:
DEATH
Miss Emily surveyed the assembled company.
There were not enough chairs for them all in her sitting-room. Margaret Barrimore, the Rector and the Mayor were seated. Jenny and Patrick sat on the arms of Mrs. Barrimore’s chair. Major Barrimore, Superintendent Coombe and Dr. Mayne formed a rather ill-assorted group of standees.
“That, then,” said Miss Emily, “ is the situation. I have declared my purpose. I have been threatened. Two attempts have been made upon me. Finally, this object”—she waved her hand in the direction of the Green Lady, which, with its unlovely label still about its neck, simpered at the company—“this object has been placed in my room by someone who evidently obtained possession of the key.”
“Now, my dear Miss Pride,” Barrimore said, “I do assure you that I shall make the fullest possible investigation. Whoever perpetrated this ridiculous—” Miss Emily raised her hand. He goggled at her, brushed up his moustache and was silent.
“I have asked you to meet me here,” she continued, exactly as if she had not been interrupted, “in order to make it known, first, that I am not, of course, to be diverted by threats of any sort. I shall take the action I have already outlined. I have particularly invited you, Mr. Mayor, and the Rector and Dr. Mayne, because you are persons of authority in Portcarrow and also because each of you will be affected in some measure by my decision. As, perhaps more directly, will Major Barrimore and his family. I regret that Miss Cost finds she is unable to come. I have met each of you independently since I arrived and I hope you are all convinced that I am not to be shaken in my intention.”
Mr. Nankivell made an unhappy noise.
“My second object in trespassing upon your time is this. I wish, with the assistance of Superintendent Coombe, to arrive at the identity of the person who left this figurine, with its offensive label, on my desk. It is presumably the person who is responsible for the two attempts to inflict injury. It must have been — I believe ‘planted’ is the correct expression — while I was at luncheon. My apartment was locked. My key was on its hook on a board in the office. It is possible to remove it without troubling the attendant and without attracting attention. That is what must have been done, and done by a person who was aware of my room number. Unless, indeed, this outrage was performed by somebody who is in possession of, or has access to, a duplicate or master key.” She turned with splendid complacency to Superintendent Coombe. “That is my contention,” said Miss Emily. “Perhaps you, Mr. Coombe, will be good enough to continue the investigation.”
An invitation of this sort rested well outside the range of Superintendent Coombe’s experience. Under the circumstances, he met the challenge with good sense and discretion. He kept his head.
“Well, now,” he said. “Miss Pride, Mr. Mayor, and ladies and gentlemen: I’m sure we’re all agreed that this state of affairs won’t do. Look at it whatever way you like, it reflects no credit on Portcarrow mainland or the Island.”
“Yurr-yurr,” said the Mayor, who was clearly fretted by the minor role for which he seemed to be cast. “Speak your mind, Alfred! Go ahead.”
“So I will, then. Now. As regards the stone throwing and the trip wire incidents. Inquiries have been put in hand. So far, from information received, I have nothing to report. As regards this latest incident: in the ordinary course of events, it having been reported to the police, routine inquiries would be undertaken. That would be the normal procedure.”