‘Yes, it could be so, of course. Well, I must have a word with the Superintendent. No doubt he will be interested to hear an account of my activities and the conclusions I have drawn from them.’
‘May one ask what conclusions you have drawn from them?’
‘Well,’ said Dame Beatrice, ‘one of the conclusions I have drawn is that I think I may be inclined to keep the eleventh Commandment.’
‘Which is?’
‘Oh, come now! You, who must have been in hot water times out of number at school and you who, as I remember it, were not always a model student at Carteret College of Education, should not need to ask me that!’
‘No, honestly, I don’t get you. Is there an eleventh Commandment? If so, how come?’
‘Certainly there is an eleventh Commandment. Its place of origin, I believe, was Eton College, the pious foundation of King Henry the Sixth.’
‘Oh!’ said Laura, suddenly enlightened. ‘Tell a lie, tell a good ’un, and stick to it. Somehow, though, I shouldn’t have thought that kind of thing culd be in your line.’
‘In the ordinary course of events it would not, but circumstances, to quote a trite saying, do alter cases. With what are we confronted?’
‘Two murders.’
‘Of two infamous characters of whom the world is well rid.’
‘Do you mean you know who the murderer is, and that you’re going to cover up for him or her?’
‘I mean only that I think I know the identity of both murderers, and I think that one is male, the other female. If I am right – but I still can find objections to my conclusions – for the first I need provide no cover. For the second, well, we shall see what transpires. Edna St Vincent Millay was not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in a prison cell.’
‘I am fogged and bewildered.’
‘I may be wrong in my conclusions, of course, as I say. We must see what impression they make on the police. Of course those milk bottles may prove to present me with a problem. The Superintendent is anything but a fool.’
‘But you can’t take the law into your own hands!’
‘Perhaps I would need to love it before I did that. As it is, perhaps I have decided to ignore it.’
‘What have milk bottles to do with your decision?’
‘With my decision, nothing, but I doubt whether the Superintendent will be content to ignore them.’
‘If you’re so concerned about the milk bottles, why didn’t you shove them into the fridge while you had the chance?’
‘They were important evidence on two counts. They gave a pretty clear indication of the day, although not the time of day, on which the antique-dealer died. Apart from that, I had not formulated any theory, when we found the man’s body, as to the identity of his killer. I do not know now, for certain, who that was, but I have my suspicions.’
‘Well, I suppose it’s of no use to ask any more questions. Do we go and see the Superintendent again, or shall I ring him up?’
‘I will go alone to see him. You, as a policeman’s wife, might be wiser to stay out of all future proceedings.’
‘If you’re going to cook the books, I better had, but you know, Dame B., dear, I’m beginning to wonder whether you and I are on the same wave-length over all this. We are talking about Chelion pasting Polly in the eye, I suppose, and the possible implications of that action?’
‘You may be. I am not.’
‘And I’m to stay out of all the fun from now on?’
‘That would be expecting too much of you.’
‘I’ll tell you what I’d love to do, then; I’d like to pay Niobe a visit. I’d like to find out how much she knows about Barnes and Chelion Piper.’
‘A delicate subject and one far better left alone at present. Pay her a visit by all means, but take your friend the yataghan with you and be wary.’
Chapter Fourteen
The Yataghan
« ^ »
IT was an errand altogether to Laura’s liking.
‘Hope I shan’t be arrested for carrying an offensive weapon,’ she said blithely. ‘I’d better stick it in the boot of the car.’
Dame Beatrice had never described Niobe’s physical appearance, so that Laura, who had had nothing to go on except the story of Niobe’s almost incessant weeping, was somewhat taken aback when, the all-efficient charwoman having announced her, she was confronted by the chatelaine of Weston Pipers.
Laura, herself an Amazon, taking in Niobe’s size, thews and general aspect, thought, ‘If it came to a scrap, I don’t know that I’d fancy my chances!’
‘Mrs Gavin?’ said Niobe. ‘Do take a seat. I’ll look up the books and see what we have. Will you be alone? I don’t take children, of course.’
‘Mine are grown up and live with me no longer.’ Laura, who perceived the misunderstanding, was not going to let pass any chance of seeing something of Weston Pipers while she was there. She added: ‘My husband works in London, so is not at home all the time.’
‘All the same, no doubt you would want something suitable for two. Excuse me.’ Niobe opened a ledger and ran her finger down a closely-written page. ‘Ah, yes. If you would care to come this way.’
‘Before we begin a tour of inspection, I should like to know something about terms,’ said Laura.
‘Oh, they vary from flat to flat, but the most expensive flats are already let, I’m afraid. Do put down your parcel. It looks rather heavy. It will be quite safe here in my office.’
Laura laid the yataghan, which was wrapped in brown paper, across the corner of Niobe’s desk.
‘A present for my son,’ she said. ‘He is a collector. I picked this thing up in a little junk shop in that town on the other side of the bay.’ She waved towards the creek which was visible from the office window. ‘Are those the only grounds to the house? The lawn seems small for a house of this size and that bungalow takes up a lot of room.’
‘Oh, that lawn is nothing, except for the view of the sea. The park and gardens, with some ornamental water – a lake, no less – are at the front. Whichever flat you choose will give you an excellent look-out.’ Niobe closed the office door behind the two of them and led the way up the beautiful staircase.
‘Well,’ said Laura when she had been shown the rooms previously occupied by Billie and Elysée and recently vacated by Dame Beatrice and had also seen the two flats which so far (although Niobe did not mention this), had never been let, ‘I don’t think this is exactly what I’m looking for. The place seems (if you’ll forgive the expression) rather a rabbit warren.’
‘What!’ said Niobe, and to Laura’s concealed delight she burst into tears. ‘Oh, Mrs Gavin! What a horrid thing to say!’ She ran down the stairs to the hall and banged tempestuously at a door. It opened, and a tall, querulous young man stood there. ‘Good Lord, Niobe,’ he said, ‘what’s all the racket?’
‘Oh, Chelion! Will you take Mrs Gavin into my office to collect a parcel she has left there? She doesn’t want a place here. She calls it – she calls it a rabbit warren.’
‘No, it’s a nest of vipers,’ said the young man, with a sour smile. ‘Well, if she doesn’t like the house, show her the bungalow, and for goodness sake don’t interrupt me again. You know I’m writing my prison story for the Sunday papers. How am I to get on with it if you come crashing in every second moment?’
He slammed the door in Niobe’s face. She turned her tear-stained countenance to Laura and asked humbly:
‘Would you care to look over the bungalow? You would be quite on your own there.’
‘Oh, well, as I’ve come all this way, I may as well see everything, I suppose,’ said Laura off-handedly. ‘Did I hear you call that man Chelion? It’s an unusual name. I seem to have seen it somewhere, and recently, too.’