“I fancied,” she said, “I knew a gentleman when I saw one and I hope you’re not going to be a disappointment. Don’t answer me back. I prefer to form my own opinion.”
Alleyn did not answer her back.
“That Floy,” Old Ninn continued, “has been at you. A bad background, if ever there was one. What’s bred in the child comes out in the woman. Don’t believe a word of what she tells you. What’s she been saying about the boy?”
“About Mr. Dakers?”
“Certainly. A man to you, seem he may; to me who knows him inside out, he’s a boy. Twenty-eight and famous, I daresay, but no more harm in him than there ever has been, which is never. Sensitive and fanciful, yes. Not practical, granted. Vicious, fiddle! Now. What’s that Floy been putting about?”
“Nothing very terrible, Ninn.”
“Did she say he was ungrateful? Or bad-mannered?”
“Well…”
“He’s nothing of the sort. What else?”
Alleyn was silent. OLd Ninn unfolded her arms. She laid a tiny gnarled paw on Alleyn’s hand. “Tell me what else,” she said, glaring into his face, “I’ve got to know. Tell me.”
“You tell me” he said and put his hand over hers. “What was the matter between Mr. Richard and Mrs. Templeton? It’s better I should know. What was it?”
She stared at him. Her lips moved but no sound came from them.
“You saw him,” Alleyn said, “when he came out of her room. What was the matter? Florence told us…”
“She told you! She told you that!”
“I’d have found out, you know. Can you clear it up for us? Do, if you can.”
She shook her head in a very desolate manner. Her eyes were glazed with tears and her speech had become uncertain. He supposed she had fortified herself with an extra glass before tackling him and it was now taking full effect.
“I can’t say,” she said indistinctly. “I don’t know. One of her tantrums. A tyrant from the time she could speak. The boy’s never anything but good and patient.” And after a moment she added quite briskly, “Doesn’t take after her in that respect. More like the father.”
Fox looked up from his notes. Alleyn remained perfectly still. Old Ninn rocked very slightly on her feet and sat down.
“Mr. Templeton?” Alleyn said.
She nodded two or three times with her eyes shut. “You may well say so,” she murmured, “you — may — well…” Her voice trailed into silence and she dozed.
Fox opened his mouth and Alleyn signalled him and he shut it again. There was a considerable pause. Presently Old Ninn gave a slight snore, moved her lips and opened her eyes.
Alleyn said, “Does Mr. Richard know about his parentage?”
She looked fixedly at him. “Why shouldn’t he?” she said. “They were both killed in a motor accident and don’t you believe anything you’re told to the contrary. Name of Dakers.” She caught sight of Fox and his notebook. “Dakers,” she repeated and spelt it out for him.
“Thank you very much,” said Fox.
Alleyn said, “Did you think Mr. Richard looked very much upset when he came out of her room?”
“She had the knack of upsetting him. He takes things to heart.”
“What did he do?”
“Went downstairs. Didn’t look at me. I doubt if he saw me.”
“Florence,” Alleyn said, “thought he looked like death.”
Ninn got to her feet. Her little hands clutched at his arm. “What’s she mean? What’s she been hinting? Why didn’t she say what I heard? After she went downstairs? I told her. Why didn’t she tell you?”
“What did you hear?”
“She knows! I told her. I didn’t think anything of it at the time and now she won’t admit it. Trying to lay the blame on the boy. She’s a wicked girl and always has been.”
“What did you hear?”
“I heard the Lady using that thing. The poison thing. Hissing. Heard it! She killed herself,” Ninn said. “Why, we’ll never know and the sin’s on her head forever. She killed herself.”
There was a long pause during which Ninn showed signs of renewed instability. Fox put his arm under hers. “Steady does it,” he said comfortably.
“That’s no way to talk,” she returned sharply and sat down again.
“Florence,” Alleyn said, “tells us Miss Bellamy was incapable of any such thing.”
The mention of Florence instantly restored her.
“Florence said this and Florence said that,” she barked. “And did Florence happen to mention she fell out with her lady and as good as got her notice this morning? Did she tell you that?”
“No,” Alleyn murmured, “she didn’t tell us that.”
“Ah! There you are, you see!”
“What did you do after Mr. Richard left the room and went downstairs? After Florence had gone and after you’d heard the spray?”
She had shut her eyes again and he had to repeat his questions. “I retired,” she said with dignity, “to my room.”
“When did you hear of the catastrophe?”
“There was a commotion. Floy with a hot bottle on the landing having hysterics. I couldn’t get any sense out of her. Then the doctor came out and told me.”
“And after that, what did you do?”
He could have sworn that she made a considerable effort to collect herself and that his question had alarmed her. “I don’t remember,” she said and then added, “Went back to my room.” She had opened her eyes and was watching him very warily.
“Are you sure, Ninn? Didn’t you have a look at Mr. Templeton in the dressing-room?”
“I’ve forgotten. I might have. I believe I did. You can’t think of everything,” she added crossly.
“How was he? How did you find him?”
“How would you expect him to be?” she countered. “Very low. Didn’t speak. Upset. Naturally. With his trouble, it might have been the death of him. The shock and all.”
“How long were you in the dressing-room?”
“I don’t remember. Till the police came and ordered everybody about.”
“Did you,” Alleyn asked her, “go into the bedroom?”
She waited for a long time. “No,” she said at last.
“Are you sure? You didn’t go through into the bathroom or begin to tidy the room?”
“No.”
“Or touch the body?”
“I didn’t go into the bedroom.”
“And you didn’t let Florence go in either?”
“What’s she been telling you?”
“That she wanted to go in and that you — very properly — told her that the doctor had forbidden it.”
“She was hysterical. She’s a silly girl. Bad in some ways.”
“Did Mr. Templeton go into the bedroom?”
“He had occasion,” she said with great dignity, “to pass through it in order to make use of the convenience. That is not forbidden, I hope?”
“Naturally not.”
“Very well then,” she stifled a hiccough and rose. “I’m going to bed,” she said loudly, and as there was nothing further to be collected from her, they let her out.
Fox offered assistance but was rebuffed. She tacked rapidly towards the door.
He opened it quickly.
There, on the landing, looking remarkably uncomfortable, was Richard Dakers.
He had been caught, it was evident, in the act of moving away from the door. Now, he stood stock-still, an uncomfortable smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Old Ninn stopped short when she saw him, appeared to get her bearings and went up to him.
“Ninn,” he said, looking past her at Alleyn and speaking with most unconvincing jauntiness, “what have you been up to!”
She stared into his face. “Speak up for yourself,” she said. “They’ll put upon you if you don’t.”