Tommy Johns uttered an extremely raw expletive.
“I only mention it,” said Alleyn, “to remind you that Cliff’s ‘grilling,’ as you call it, was in no way peculiar to him. Your turn may come, but not to-night. I’ve got to start work at five, and I must get some sleep. You pipe down like a sensible chap. If you and your boy had no hand in these assaults, you’ve nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not so sure,” Tommy Johns said, blinking. “The wife’s had about as much as she can take,” he added indistinctly, and looked at Alleyn from under his jutting brows. “Oh, well,” he said.
“Murder takes it out of all hands,” Alleyn murmured, piloting him to the door. Johns halted in front of Markins. “What’s he doing in here?” he demanded.
“I’m O.K., Tommy,” said Markins. “Don’t start in on me, now.”
“I haven’t forgot it was you that put the boy away with her in the first instance,” said Johns. “The boy asked us not to let it make an unpleasantness so we didn’t. But I haven’t forgot. You’re the fancy witness in this outfit, aren’t you? What’s he pay you for it?”
“He’s not in the least fancy,” said Alleyn. “He’s going to see you and the boy home in about ten minutes. In the meantime I want you all to wait in the drawing-room.”
“What d’you mean, see us home?”
“In case there are any more murders and you’re littered about the place without alibis.” He nodded to Markins, who opened the door. “You might ask Miss Harmc to come in,” Alleyn said, and they went away.
“I wanted to see you by yourself,” said Ursula. “I never have, you know.”
“I’m afraid there’ll be no marked improvement,” said Alleyn.
“Well, I rather like you,” she said, “and so does Fab. Of course I’m terribly pleased that the murderer didn’t kill you, and so will Fab be when he’s better, but I must say I do wish he could have missed altogether and not caught my poor boyfriend on his already very tricky head.”
“It may all turn out for the best,” Alleyn said.
“I don’t quite see how. Fabian will almost certainly consider himself well below C3 as a marrying man and turn me down flat.”
“You’ll have to insist.”
“Well, so I will if I can, but it’s a poor prospect. I wanted to ask you. Was he at all peculiar while he was unconscious? Did he want to go swarming up the walls or anything?”
Alleyn hesitated before answering this startlingly accurate description. “I see he did,” said Ursula quickly. “Then it did get to the old spot. I’d hoped not. Because, you know, he was hit behind the ear when he was climbing up into the boat at Dunkirk and this is at the back of his head.”
“Perhaps it’s just because he was unconscious.”
“Perhaps,” she said doubtfully. “Did he talk about dropping into the sea, and did he do the sort of gallant young leader number for the men who were with him? ‘Come on, you chaps. Excelsibloodyor.’ ”
“Exactly that.”
“Isn’t it difficult!” Ursula said gloomily. “I had a frightful set-to with him in the ship. Up the companion-way like greased lightning and then all for shinning up the rigging only fortunately there was no rigging very handy. But to do him justice I must say he didn’t fight me. Although concussed I supposed he knew a lady when he saw one and remained the little gent.”
“Does he ever call you ‘funny old thing’?”
“Never. That’s not at all his line. Why?”
“He called somebody that when he was talking.”
“You perhaps?”
“Positively not. He merely hit me.”
“Well, it would be a man.”
“Are you at all interested in the shearing process?”
Ursula stared at him. “Me?” she said. “What do you mean?”
“Do you ever help in the shed? Pick up fleeces or anything?”
“Good heavens, no. Women don’t, though I suppose we’ll have to if the war goes on much longer. Why?”
“Then you couldn’t tell me anything about sorting?”
“Of course not. Ask Douglas or Fab or Tommy Johns. Or why not Ben Wilson? It’s frightfully technical.”
“Yes. Do you suppose Fabian tried to climb anything when he blacked-out on the night of the search?”
“I’m quite sure he did,” said Ursula soberly.
“You are? Why?”
“I had a good look at him, you know. You remember I guessed he’d had another go. The palms of his hands were stained as if he’d held on to things like branches. I sent his white trousers to the wash. They had green lines on them.”
“You’re a very good sensible girl,” said Alleyn warmly, “and if you want to marry him, you shall.”
“I don’t see what you can do about it, but it’s nice of you all the same. Why are you so excited about Fabian climbing the tree?”
“Because if he did he had a view of the lay-out.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Yes. Scarcely evidence, I’m afraid. The only way to get that would be to knock him neatly over the head in the witness-box and I don’t suppose you’d allow that. He’ll have forgotten all about his blackouts, as usual, when he cornes round. It seems that when they happen he is at once aware of the previous experiences and returns in memory to them.”
“Isn’t it rum?” said Ursula.
“Very. I think you may go to bed now. Here is the key of Losse’s room. You may open the door and look at him if you like. If he wakes, whisper some pacific reassurance and come away.”
“I suppose I couldn’t sit with him for a bit?”
“It’s half-past ten. I thought it was to be an early night.”
“I’d like to. I’d be as still as a mouse.”
“Very well. I’ll leave the key in your charge. What did you decide about a doctor?”
“We’re going to nip up when the Bureau opens.”
“Very sensible. Good night to you.”
“Good night,” said Ursula. She took hold of his coat lapels. “You’re terribly attractive,” she said, “and you’re a darling because you don’t think it was us. Any of us. I’m sorry he hit you.” She kissed him and walked soberly out of the room.
“A baggage!” Alleyn said to himself, meditatively stroking the side of his face. “A very notable baggage.”
Markins came in. “That’s the lot, sir,” he said. “Unless you want me to wake up Mrs. Aceworthy and Mrs. Duck.”
“They can wait till the morning. Send the others to bed, Markins. Escort the Johns brace to their cottage and then join me in the wool-shed.”
“So you are going.”
“I’m afraid so. We can’t wait, now. I’ve told Captain Grace.”
“And he told us. ’Strewth, he’s a beauty, that young fellow. ‘Officially,’ he says, ‘Mr. Alleyn’s going to bed. Between ourselves, he’s not letting the grass grow under his feet. You needn’t say I said so, but he’s going up to the wool-shed to work on the scene of the crime!’ Could you beat it? Goes and lets it out.”
“He was under orders to do so.”
Markins looked thoughtfully at his superior. “Inviting them to come and have another pop at you, sir? Is that the lay? Taking a risk aren’t you?”
“You go and do your stuff. Make sure nobody sees you go into the wool-shed. I shan’t be long.”
“Very good, sir.” Markins went out but reopened the door and put his head round it.
“Excuse me, Mr. Alleyn,” he said, wrinkling up his face, “but it’s nice to be working with someone — after all these years on me pat — especially you.”
“I’m delighted to have you, Markins,” said Alleyn, and when the little man had gone, he thought: “He’s not old Fox, but he’s somebody. He’s a nice little bloke.”