Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 3: Death in a White Tie, Overture to Death, Death at the Bar by Ngaio Marsh

Author:Ngaio Marsh [Marsh, Ngaio]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 1940-03-10T05:00:00+00:00

II

From an upstairs window Henry had watched the arrival of Alleyn’s car. Ever since his visit to the study at dawn and his subsequent interview with the abruptly awakened Jocelyn, Henry had been unable to think coherently, to stay still, or do anything definite. It struck him that he was in very much the same condition as he had been last night while waiting in the wings for the curtain to go up. He had telephoned to Dinah and arranged to see her at the rectory. He had prowled miserably about the house. At intervals he had tried to reassure his father, who had taken the news well, but was obviously very shaken. He had wondered what they would do with Eleanor when she chose to appear. She had gone straight to her room on her return from church, and was reported to be suffering from a headache.

When Jocelyn went downstairs to meet Alleyn, Henry’s condition became several degrees more uncomfortable. He imagined his father making a bad job of the automatic story, getting himself further and further involved, and finally losing his temper. The Yard man would probably be maddeningly professional and heavy handed. Henry pictured him seated on the edge of one of the study chair, staring at his father with sharp, inhuman eyes set in a massive policeman’s face. ‘He will carry his bowler in with him and his boots will be intolerable,’ thought Henry. ‘A mammoth of officialdom!’

At last his own idleness became insupportable, and he ran downstairs and made for the study.

He could hear his father’s voice raised, as it seemed, in protest. He opened the door and walked in.

‘This is my son,’ said Jocelyn.

Henry’s first thought was that this was some stranger, or perhaps a friend of Jocelyn’s arrived with hideous inconvenience to visit them. He saw an extremely tall man, thin, and wearing good clothes, with an air of vague distinction.

‘This is Mr Alleyn,’ said Jocelyn, ‘from Scotland Yard.’

‘Oh,’ said Henry.

He shook hands, felt suddenly rather young, and sat down. His next impression was that he had seen Mr Alleyn before. He found himself looking at Alleyn in terms of a pencil drawing. A drawing that might have been done by Durer with a sharp, hard pencil and then washed delicately with blue-blacks and ochres. ‘A grandee turned monk,’ thought Henry, ‘but retaining some amusing memories.’ And he sought to find a reason for this impression which seemed more like a recollection. The accents of the brows, the winged corners to the mouth and eyes, the sharp insistence of the skull – he had seen them all before.

‘Henry!’ said his father sharply.

Henry realized that Alleyn had been speaking.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t – I’m very sorry.’

‘I was only asking,’ said Alleyn, ‘if you could help us with this business of the Colt. Your father says it was in its box last week. Can you get any nearer to it than that?’

‘It was there on Friday afternoon at five,’ said Henry.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.