“You know! When you think! What I was saying to Charley Roper, you never know. And look, I never thought of it till this afternoon at the Children’s Service. I was collecting up hymn-books and it come all over me, so when I see Charley Roper hanging about outside the hall, I says, ‘Pardon me, Mr. Roper,’ I says, ‘but I have a piece of information I feel it my duty to pass on.’ ”
“Very proper,” said Alleyn, with a glance at Roper.
“Yass, and I told him. I told him I might be laying where she is, seeing what I did!”
“What did you do?”
“I sat down and played a hymn on that rickety old affair. Aw, well!”
“Did you play loudly or softly?”
“Well, well, both, ackshully. I was seeing which pedal worked best on that shocking old affair, see?”
“Yes,” said Alleyn. “I see. Did you put the pedal on suddenly and hard?”
“Aw no. Because one time the soft pedal went all queer because Cissie Dewry put her foot on it, so we always use it gentle-like. I didn’t try it but the bare once. The loud one worked better,” said Miss Wright.
“Yes,” agreed Alleyn. “I expect it would.”
“Well, it did,” confessed Miss Wright, and giggled again.
“But you did actually press the soft pedal down?” insisted Alleyn.
“Yass. Firm like. Not sharp.”
“Exactly. Was there a piece of music on the rack?”
“Oo yass, Miss Prentice’s piece. I never touched it. Truly!”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Miss Wright, suppose you were in a court of law, and someone put a Bible in your hand, and you were asked to swear solemnly in God’s name that at about twenty to seven last night you put your foot firmly on the left pedal, would you swear it?”
Miss Wright giggled.
“It’s very important,” said Alleyn. “You see, there would be a prisoner in the court on trial for murder. Please think very carefully indeed. Would you make this statement on oath?”
“Oh yass,” said Miss Wright.
“Thank you,” said Alleyn. He looked at Templett. “I don’t think we need keep you, Dr. Templett, if you are anxious to get home.”
“I–I’ll drive you back,” said Templett.
“That’s very nice of you — I shan’t be long.” He turned back to Gladys Wright. “Did any one come in while you were playing?”
“I stopped when I heard them coming. Cissie Dewry come first and then all the other girls.”
“Did you notice any of the performers?”
“No. We was all talking round the door, like.” She rolled her eyes at Roper. “That was when you come, Mr. Roper.”
“Well, Roper?”
“They were in the entrance, sir, giggling and cackling in their female manner, sure enough.”
“Oo you are,” said Miss Wright.
“And had any of the company arrived at that time?”
“Yes, sir,” said Roper. “Miss Copeland was there ahead of me, but she went to the back door same as all the performers, I don’t doubt. And the Pen Cuckoo party was there, sir, but I didn’t know that till I went round to back of stage when I found them bedizening their faces in the Sunday-school rooms.”
“So that there was a moment when the ladies were at the front door, talking, and the Pen Cuckoo party and Miss Copeland were behind the scenes?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“They were ringing and ringing at the telephone,” interjected Miss Wright, “all the time us girls was there.”
“And you say, Miss Wright, that none of the performers came into the front of the hall.”
“Not one. Truly.”
“Sure?”
“Yass. Certain sure. We would have seen them. Soon after that the doors were open and people started to come in.”
“Where did you stand?”
“Up top by the stage, ushering the two shillingses.”
“So if anybody had come down to the piano from the stage you would have seen them?”
“Nobody came down. Not ever. I’d take another Bible oath on that,” said Miss Wright, with considerable emphasis.
“Thank you,” said Alleyn. “That’s splendid. One other question. You were at the Reading Circle meeting at the rectory on Friday night. Did you go home by the gate into the wood. The gate that squeaks?”
“Oo no! None of us girls goes that way at night.” Miss Wright giggled, extensively. “It’s too spooky. Oo, I wouldn’t go that way for anything. The others, they all went together, and my young gentleman, he took me home by lane.”
“So you’re sure nobody used the gate?”
“Yass, for sure. They’d all gone,” said Miss Wright, turning scarlet, “before us. And we used lane.”
“You passed the hall, then. Were there any lights in the hall?”
“Not in front.”
“You couldn’t see the back windows, of course. Thank you so much, Miss Wright. We’ll get you to sign a transcript of everything you have told us. Read it through carefully, first. If you wouldn’t mind waiting in the outer office I think I can arrange for you to be driven home.”
“Oo well, thanks ever so,” said Miss Wright, and went out.
ii
Alleyn looked at Templett.
“I ought to apologise,” he said, “I’ve given you a damned bad hour.”
“I don’t know why you didn’t arrest me,” said Templett with a shaky laugh. “Ever since I realised I’d left that bloody note in the dressing-room I’ve been trying to think how I could prove I hadn’t rigged the automatic. There seemed to be no possible proof. Even now I don’t see— Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. Nothing much matters. If you don’t mind, I’ll wait outside in the car. I’d like a breath of fresh air.”
“Certainly.”
Dr. Templett nodded to Blandish and went out.
“Will I shadow the man?” asked Roper, earnestly.
Blandish’s reply was unprintable.
“You might ask Mr. Bathgate to drive your witness home, Roper,” said Alleyn. “Let her sign her statement first. Tell Mr. Bathgate I’m returning with Dr. Templett. And Roper, as tactfully as you can, just see how Dr. Templett’s getting on. He’s had a shock.”
“Yes, sir.”
Roper went out.
“He’s got about as much tact as a cow,” said Blandish.
“I know, but at least he’ll keep an eye on Templett.”
“The lady let him down, did she?”
“With a thump that shook the crockery.”
“S-s-s-s!” said Blandish appreciatively. “Is that a fact?”
“He’s had two narrow escapes,” said Fox, “and that’s a fact. The lady’s let him down with a jerk and he’s lucky the hangman won’t follow suit.”
“Fox,” said Alleyn, “you have the wit of a Tyburn broadsheet, but there’s matter in it.”
“I don’t know where I am,” said Blandish. “Are we any nearer to an arrest?”
“A good step,” said Alleyn. “The pattern emerges.”
“What does that mean, Mr. Alleyn?”
“Well,” said Alleyn, apologetically, “I mean all these mad little things like the box, and the broken telephone, and the creaking gate — I’m not so sure of the onion—”
“The onion!” cried Fox, triumphantly. “I know all about the onion, Mr. Alleyn. Georgie Biggins is responsible for that, the young limb. I saw him this afternoon and asked him, as well as every other youngster in the village, about the box. He’s going round as pleased as punch, letting on he’s working at the case with the Yard. Answers me as cool as you please, and when I’m going he says, ‘Did you find an onion in the teapot, mister?’ Well, it seems that they had a tea-party on the stage, with Miss Prentice and Miss Campanula quarrelling about which should pour out. If the young devil didn’t go and put an onion in the pot. It seems they each had to take the lid off and look in the pot and this was another of George’s bright ideas. I suppose someone found it in time and threw it into the box on the floor, where you picked it up.”