“TWO, TWO, THE LILY-WHITE BOYS”

Alleyn had been confronted with the Lampreys for only some twenty minutes but already he had begun to feel a little as though they were handfuls of wet sand which, as fast as he grasped them, were dragged through his fingers by the action of some mysterious undertow. He sent Fox off to find out, if possible, from the commissionaire when Lady Katherine Lobe had left the flat and what direction she had taken. Privately he instructed Fox to set the machinery of the department at work. Hospitals would be rung up, street accidents reported. And in the end, thought Alleyn, Lady Katherine would arrive home at half past eleven after an impulsive visit to the cinema. In the meantime he concentrated on the Lampreys still in hand.

Henry came back, bringing his mother and his old nurse. Again there were vague, polite introductions for which Lady Charles did not wait. She advanced with a swift graciousness which Alleyn at once recognized as the fruit of an excellent social technique. They shook hands. Alleyn saw the small New Zealander give her hostess a startled glance and he wondered if Lady Charles Lamprey was usually so pale. But she greeted him with a perfection of manner that sketched with subtlety relief at his arrival, deference to his ability, and a delicate suggestion that they spoke the same language.

“Please forgive me,” she said, “for keeping you waiting. My sister-in-law—” she made a rueful grimace “ — too terribly upset. Henry says you want to see her.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Alleyn. “I’m afraid I do.”

“At the moment she simply can’t come. I mean I can’t move her. Her maid may manage her better. She’s going to try.”

“She must come, Immy,” said Lord Charles.

“Charlie darling, if you saw her. I mean honestly.”

“We’ll carry on as we are for the present,” said Alleyn quickly. “Has Dr. Kantripp seen Lady Wutherwood?”

“Yes. He’s given her something and the nurse is going to stay here to-night. Dr. Kantripp guessed that you would ask to speak to her and said he would look in again later and see if she was up to it. Of course she’d had the most appalling and overwhelming shock.”

“Of course.”

“She’s not English,” said Lord Charles uncomfortably. Frid and Henry exchanged glances and grinned.

“Well,” said Alleyn hurriedly. “To begin with—”

“Do sit down, everybody,” said Charlot. “Nanny came too in case she was wanted.”

They sat down.

As he waited for a moment, collecting his thoughts and the attention of his audience, Alleyn received a sudden and extremely vivid impression of a united family.

Whatever their qualities of elusiveness, vagueness or apparent flippancy might be, he felt sure these qualities would never be used by the Lampreys against each other. They would always present a united if slightly ridiculous front. Until Lady Charles came in he had thought the children markedly resembled their father. He now saw that they bore to their faces and mannerisms confusing and subtle traces of both their parents. It was odd to see the complete separateness of Roberta Grey. Alleyn’s attention had been arrested by Roberta, by her small, compact figure, her pale face with its pointed chin and dark eyes set so very wide apart, by a certain air of grave watchfulness, by the Quakerish tidiness of her black dress and white collar. She had only arrived yesterday from New Zealand and yet she looked as though she had often sat on that Moroccan stool with her back set against the wall and her hands folded in her lap. And during the few seconds in which these impressions passed through his mind, Alleyn wondered if the Lampreys would close their ranks, and if in that case Roberta Grey would fall in with them. He had taken notes of Fox’s inquiries. He now opened his book and laid it on the arm of his chair. He began to speak.

“As far as we have gone,” he said, “This is what seems to have happened. Lord Charles Lamprey and Lord Wutherwood were together in this room up to about ten minutes past seven. Lord Wutherwood decided to leave and went out of the room. He first rang the bell in the hall. Your butler, Baskett, answered it. Lord Wutherwood ordered his car, Baskett helped Lord Wutherwood into his coat and so on. I understand you didn’t go out with your brother, sir?”

“No,” said Lord Charles. “No. We said good-bye in here.”

“Yes. Baskett then opened the hall door. Lord Wutherwood went out to the lift. Baskett says that he was told not to wait and so returned to the servants’ sitting-room. These notes, you will see, account for the movements, or some of the movements, of five persons during the few minutes after Lord Wutherwood left this room. Now, as Baskett left the hall and returned to the servants’ sitting-room, he heard Lord Wutherwood call loudly for Lady Wutherwood. I should like to know next, if you please, how many of you also heard this call. Lady Charles — please forgive me if I still call you Lady Charles—”

“It will be much less muddling if you do, Mr. Alleyn.”

“It will, won’t it? Did you hear this call?”

“Oh, yes. Gabriel, my brother-in-law, always shouted like that for people.”

“Where were you, please?”

“In my bedroom.”

Alleyn glanced at his note-book.

“I’ve made a very rough sketch plan of both flats,” he said. “Your room is the second from the lift end of No. 26?”

“Yes.”

“Were you alone?”

“When he shouted? No. My sister-in-law and — Good heavens, Charlie, for pity’s sake—”

“Yes, Immy, I know. Aunt Kit hasn’t got home yet.”

“Not got home? But honestly, darling, it’s too queer of Aunt Kit. We don’t even know when she left. Why did she vanish like that, do you suppose?”

“I expect she just slipped away,” said Henry.

“She probably thought she’d said good-bye,” said Frid. “You know how absent-minded she is.”

“I expect she did say good-bye, Mummy,” said Patch, “and you didn’t hear her. She talks in a whisper, Mr. Alleyn.”

“What nonsense!” exclaimed Lady Charles. “Of course I would know she was saying good-bye. For one thing she’d kiss me.”

“You might have thought she was just being effusive.” said Frid

“She’s always kissing people,” agreed Patch.

“Well, she didn’t suddenly kiss me in the bedroom out of a clear sky,” said Lady Charles positively. “Don’t be absurd, Patch.”

“Lady Katherine was in your bedroom with Lady Wutherwood then,” Alleyn interposed adroitly, “when you heard the first call?”

“Yes, she was, and perfectly normal. She didn’t hear Gabriel, of course, because she’s deaf, but Violet did. Violet is my sister-in-law. Lady Wutherwood, you know.”

“Yes. What did they do?”

“Violet said she’d better not keep Gabriel waiting. She said she would like to go into the bathroom, so I told her about the one at the end of the passage.”

Lady Charles, who was sitting next to Alleyn, leant over and looked at his note-book. “Is that your plan?” she said. “Let me see.”

“Immy, my dear!” protested her husband.

“Well, Charlie, I’m not going to read any of Mr. Alleyn’s notes and he’d snatch it away from me if there was anything secret in the drawing. There, it’s as clear as daylight. That’s the bathroom, Mr. Alleyn. I told her where it was and off she went. And then Aunt Kit began to whisper — you know how that generation does — only even more so because, as Patch says, she whispers anyway. So she went off to the other place which I see you’ve also got marked very neatly, and now I think of it that’s the last I saw her.”

“It’s as clear as glass,” Frid interrupted. “She probably whispered: ‘I’ll have to go. Bless you, my dear,’ and you thought she said: ‘Lavatory. I’ll just disappear.’ ”

“Anyone would think it was I who was deaf instead of Aunt Kit! She didn’t say anything of the sort. She went down the passage in that direction.”

“Well, perhaps she’s locked in,” suggested Frid. “It happened to her once before, Mr. Alleyn, in a railway station, and nobody heard her whispering.”

“Good heavens, I wonder—”

“No, m’lady,” said Nanny firmly and unexpectedly.

“Oh. Are you certain, Nanny?”

With a scarlet face and a formidable frown Nanny said that she was certain.

“Then, that’s no good,” said Lady Charles. “And then, Mr. Alleyn, I waited for Violet. She was rather a long time and I remember that my brother-in-law shouted again for her. The two girls, Frid and Patch, came in, and then at last she came back and she reminded me that she and Gabriel didn’t like working the lift themselves, so I came along here leaving her on the landing, and asked one of the boys to take them down.”

It seemed to Alleyn that as Lady Charles reached this point a curious stillness fell upon the room. He looked up quickly. The Lampreys had returned to their former postures. Lord Charles again swung his eyeglass, Henry’s hands were again driven into his trousers pockets, and again the twins stared at the fire while Patch, her chin on her knees, squatted on the floor by Roberta Grey. And Miss Grey still sat erect on her stool. Alleyn was reminded of the childish game of Steps in which, whenever the “he” has his back turned, the players creep nearer, only to freeze into immobility whenever he turns round and faces them. Alleyn felt sure that some signal had passed between the Lampreys, a signal that, by the fraction of a second, he himself had missed. At this hated and familiar sign of guardedness his own attention sharpened.

“Ah, yes,” he said. “We may as well clear up this point as we come to it.” He looked at the twins. “Mr. Fox tells me that Lord Charles didn’t notice which of you went down in the lif’t. Which was it?”

“I did,” said the twins.

So complete a silence fell upon the room that Alleyn heard a voice in the street below call for a taxi. The fire settled down in the grate with a little sigh and, as clearly as if, instead of sitting stone-still in their chairs, the Lampreys had made a swift concerted movement, Alleyn heard them close their ranks.

II

“Hullo,” he said amiably, “a difference of opinion! Or did you both go down in the lift?”

“I went down, sir,” said the twins. Lord Charles, very white in the face, put his eyeglass away.

“My dear Alleyn,” he said, “I must warn you that these two idiots have got some ridiculous idea of stonewalling us over this point. I have told them that it is extremely foolish and very wrong. I hope you will convince them of this.”

“I hope so, too,” said Alleyn. Out of the tail of his eye he saw Lady Charles’s thin hands close on each other. He turned to her. “Perhaps, Lady Charles, you will be able to clear this point up for us,” he said. “Can you tell us who took Lord and Lady Wutherwood down in the lift?”

“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t notice. One of the twins came out to the landing as soon as I asked for someone to work the lift.” She looked at the twins with a painful nakedness of devotion, made as if to speak to them, and was silent.

Alleyn waited. Fox returned and went silently to his chair. Nanny cleared her throat.

“Did anyone else,” asked Alleyn, “notice which twin remained here and which went down in the lift?”

The twins looked at the fire. Frid made a sudden impatient movement. Henry lit a cigarette.

“No?” said Alleyn. “Then we’ll go on.”

There was a sort of stealthy shifting of positions. For the first time they all looked directly at him and he knew that they had expected him to pounce on this queer behaviour of the twins and were profoundly disconcerted by his refusal to do so. He went on steadily.

“When Lady Charles came and asked for someone to work the lift, Lady Frid and Lady Patricia were in their mother’s bedroom, and their brothers were here in the drawing-room?”

“Yes,” said Henry.

“Where had you been before that?”

“In the dining-room.”

“All of you?”

“Yes. All of us. All the children and Roberta. Miss Grey.”

“While your father and Lord Wutherwood were talking in here?”

“Yes.”

“When did you leave the dining-room?”

“When the girls went out. The twins …”

“And you, Miss Grey?”

“I stayed in the dining-room with Mike — with Michael.”

“And Michael,” said Alleyn, “is of course now in bed?”

“He is,” said Nanny.

“Were you all in the dining-room when Lord Wutherwood called out?”

“Yes,” said Henry. “He shouted ‘Violet!’ twice. We were in the dining-room.”

“At what stage did Michael appear in the dining-room?”

Henry leant forward and pulled an ash-tray towards him. “Not long before Uncle Gabriel called out. He’d been messing about with his trains in 26.”

“Right. That’s perfectly clear. We’ve got to the moment when Lady Wutherwood and her escort went into the lift. Did you go out on the landing, Lady Charles?”

“I stood in the hall door and called out good-bye.”

“Yes? And then?”

“I turned back to come in here. I’d just gone to that table over there to get myself a cigarette when I heard—” she only stopped for a second — “when I heard my sister-in-law screaming. We all went out on the landing.”

“I’ll go on,” said Henry. “We went out to the landing. The lift came up. Aunt Violet was still screaming. Then whichever twin it was opened the lift doors and she sort of half fell out. Then we saw him.”

“Yes. Now, to go back a little way. This call Lord Wutherwood gave — Did it strike none of you as at all odd that he should sit in the lift and shout for Lady Wutherwood?”

“Not in the least,” said Frid. “It was entirely in character. I can’t tell you—”

“My brother,” interrupted Lord Charles hurriedly, “was like that. I mean he did rather sit still and shout for people.”

“I see. You wouldn’t say, on thinking it over, that there was any particular urgency in his voice?”

“I see what you mean, sir,” said Henry. “I’m sure there was nothing wrong when he shouted. I’ll swear nothing happened until after that.”

“But wait a moment.” Lady Charles leant forward and the light from a table lamp caught her face at an exacting angle. Shadows appeared beneath her eyes, her cheekbones; shadows prolonged the small folds at the corners of her mouth and traced out the muscles of her neck. By that trick of lighting a prefiguration of age fell across her. Her voice sharpened. “Wait a moment, all of you. Is it certain that he wasn’t calling out in alarm? How do we know? How do we know that he hadn’t seen something — someone?”

Alleyn saw Lord Charles look sharply at her.

“We don’t know, of course,” he said slowly.

“Would any of you say there was an unusual quality in his voice?” asked Alleyn. For a moment nobody answered and then Henry said impatiently: “He only sounded irritable.”

Frid said: “Aunt V. had kept him waiting.”

Alleyn looked at Roberta. “Lord Wutherwood was a comparative stranger to you, Miss Grey?”

“Yes.”

“Would you say that there was any particular ring of urgency or alarm in his voice?”

“I only thought that he sounded impatient.” said Roberta.

Alleyn waited for a moment and then with a freshening of his voice he said: “Well now, to sum up. Each time Lord Wutherwood shouted, the younger members of the party were in the dining room, Lady Charles was in her bedroom and Lord Charles was in here. Lady Wutherwood and Lady Katherine Lobe were with Lady Charles at the time of the first call. At the time of the second call they had gone severally to the bathroom and the other room at the far end of Flat 26.”

“Neat as a new pin,” said Frid, and lit a cigarette.

“It doesn’t take us very far, however,” said Alleyn. “It merely leaves us with the presumption that at these times Lord Wutherwood was still uninjured.” He turned sharply in his chair, recrossed his long legs and looked thoughtfully at the twins. The twins continued to stare at the fire while, under their clear skins, their faces rapidly turned a dull red. “Yes,” said Alleyn. “We arrive at a difficulty. The next step, as you will understand, is to find out the condition of Lord Wutherwood when Lady Wutherwood and one or the other of these two gentlemen entered the lift. As both of these gentlemen agree that only one of them went down in the lift and as each of them protests that he was that one, it would appear that neither of their statements can be particularly valuable. At the moment I don’t propose to argue this point. I propose, when she can see me, to ask for Lady Wutherwood’s impressions of what happened when she entered the lift, and to find out from her exactly when the two uninjured occupants of the lift first realized what had happened. In the meantime, if I may, I should like to see Lord Wutherwood’s chauffeur.” Alleyn glanced at his notes. “Can his name be Giggle?”

“Yes, yes,” said Lady Charles drearily. “The servants in both our families always have names like that. One of you boys go and find Giggle, will you?”

Alleyn watched the twin on the left-hand end of the sofa hitch himself up and walk away. “That’s the one that stammers,” thought Alleyn. “He’s got a mole behind his left ear.”

“Thank you, Stephen,” murmured his mother. The other twin stared uneasily at her, met Alleyn’s glance and looked quickly away.

Alleyn asked Lady Charles when Dr. Kantripp was expected to come back. She said that he had told her he had two visits to make and would call in to see Lady Wutherwood on his return. An image of Lady Wutherwood began to take hold of Alleyn’s imagination and, while he waited for Stephen Lamprey to fetch the chauffeur, he made a picture of her. She would be lying on Lady Charles’s bed in the second room on the left in Flat 26, the room next to that other where her husband waited for the police mortuary van. What was she like, this woman whose screams had risen with the returning lift, who had stumbled through the doors into Lady Charles’s arms, who was (he remembered Lord Charles’s profound uneasiness) not English? What lay at the back of her apparently severe prostration? Grief? Shock? Fear? Why did the Lampreys, incredibly garrulous on all other topics, close down on the subject of their aunt? It was not his habit to speculate on the characters of people whom he was about to interview, and he checked himself. Time enough for him to form an idea of Lady Wutherwood when he met her.

The far door opened. Stephen Lamprey came in, followed by a tall man in a dark grey chauffeur’s uniform.

“This is G-Giggle,” said Stephen.

III

Evidently Giggle was nervous. He stood to attention and kept closing and unclosing his mechanic’s hands. He sweated lightly and was inclined to show the whites of his eyes. He had a large palish face and bleached eyebrows that met in a thicket over his snub nose. He eyed Alleyn with an air half-mulish, half-apprehensive, but gave his answers crisply enough, thinking for a moment, and then speaking without hesitation. Alleyn began by asking him if he knew what had happened to Lord Wutherwood. With an uneasy look at Lord Charles, Giggle said Mr. Baskett had told him his lordship had met with a fatal accident.

“We are afraid,” said Alleyn, “that it was not an accident.”

“No, sir?”

“No. It looks very much as though there has been foul play. You will understand that the police want to know the whereabouts of everyone in the flat from the time Lord Wutherwood was last seen, uninjured and apparently unthreatened, until the moment when the injury was discovered.”

He stopped and Giggle said doubtfully: “Yes, sir.”

“All right. Now, did you hear his lordship call out after he went out on the lift landing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where were you?”

“In the passage, sir, in the flat, I’d been helping Master Michael with his train, sir.”

“Was Master Michael with you?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you know where he was?”

Giggle shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, sir, we was in the passage outside her ladyship’s room and Master Michael saw a parcel in her ladyship’s room and said something about giving it to his lordship. I mean his late lordship, sir.”

“Did Master Michael get this parcel?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And went away with it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lord Charles cleared his throat and uttered a small deprecating sound. Alleyn turned to him.

“I’m so sorry, Alleyn. I quite forgot to tell you. Not that I imagine it can have the smallest bearing on anything. Michael had planned to give my brother a little present and actually came in here with it just before my brother went out.”

“I see, sir. There was no parcel in the lift.”

“No.” Lord Charles touched his moustache. “No. Actually he didn’t — he must have forgotten to take it.”

“Then it’s still here?”

“I suppose so. I—”

“There it is,” said Frid. She went to the far end of the room and returned with a square brown-paper parcel. “Do you want to see it, Mr. Alleyn? Routine and all that.”

“Yes, please.” Alleyn took the parcel in his long hands. “So he didn’t open it?”

“Well — well, no,” said Lord Charles. “Actually I was talking to my brother and told Michael to put the parcel down. I didn’t want to be interrupted.”

“I see, sir.” Alleyn turned the parcel over in his hand.

“Please, Mr. Alleyn!” said Lady Charles suddenly. “It’s rather precious and terribly breakable.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. May I ask what it is?”

“A piece of Chinese pottery. As old as the hills and perfectly hideous I think.”

“Good heavens!” Alleyn put the parcel delicately on the table. “Am I in a muddle,” he asked, “or was Lord Wutherwood a collector? I seem to remember a loan exhibition—”

“That’s right,” said Frid. “There’s a Ming or Ho or something gallery at Deepacres. All horses and smug goddesses, you know.”

“Well, Giggle,” said Alleyn, “Master Michael got this parcel and went away with it. What did you do?”

“I waited for a while, sir, and then I heard his lordship call for her ladyship so I came along to this flat and got my coat and cap, sir, from the staff sitting-room and I looked in at the door to say I was going. Then I went downstairs, sir. Master Michael came as far as the landing.”

“I see. In coming across to this flat you used the landing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where was Lord Wutherwood?”

“His lordship was in the lift, sir.”

“Were the doors shut?”

“Yes, sir. I think they were.”

“Did he speak to you?”

“He told me to go down to the car, sir.”

“So you fetched your coat and hat, spoke to Master Michael, and returned to the landing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you hear his lordship call a second time?”

“I can’t say I remember, sir. I don’t think so, sir.”

“Were the lift doors still shut when you returned?”

“I can’t say, sir. I hurried downstairs, sir, without looking at the lift.”

“Yes, I see. What did you do then?”

“I went straight to the car, sir.”

“Meet anybody?”

“Beg pardon, sir? Yes, I did pass the commissionaire, sir.”

“Speak to him?”

Giggle turned a deep crimson. “I just mentioned his lordship seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, sir.”

“How long were you in the car?”

“I couldn’t rightly say, sir. Not long before Miss Tinkerton came down. She’s her ladyship’s maid, sir. She came downstairs and sat with me.”

“And then?”

Giggle looked towards Roberta. “The young lady came and fetched us, sir.”

“You did, Miss Grey?”

“Yes.”

“We thought they might be wanted,” said Henry.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Giggle, that’ll do for the moment. I may want to see you later.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Giggle went away. Alleyn looked round that circle of politely attentive faces. “That carries us to the time when Lord Wutherwood first called out and, rather patchily, a little way beyond it. There’s one small point we may as well clear up. I should like to know who wiped away the marks on the lift wall?”

“What marks?” asked Lord Charles while Roberta’s heart sank into a chasm. “I didn’t notice any marks.”

“I did,” said Roberta, in a much louder voice than she intended. “I wiped them off.”

“Why did you do this, Miss Grey?”

“I don’t quite know.” Why had she wiped away the marks? “I think it was because they looked so beastly. And I thought if other people used the lift — the lift was still working.”

“I see.” He was smiling at her. “Just tidying up?”

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t, you know,” said Alleyn, dismissing it. “Well,” he said, “I don’t think any purpose can be served by keeping you all together. I’m so sorry, Lady Charles, but I’m afraid I ought to see your small son.” Alleyn looked deprecatingly at Nanny. “I know it’s all against nursery law,” he said.

“The boy’s worn out already, sir,” said Nanny.

“Oh, Nanny, he isn’t,” said Patch.

“That will do, Patricia.”

“Well, anyway—”

“It’ll be a very nasty shock for him, m’lady,” said Nanny. “Waking him up in the middle of the night and telling him his uncle’s been done away with.”

“I’ll explain, Nanny,” said Lady Charles.

“You needn’t bother, Mummy,” said Patch. “When I came out Mike was looking in the playbox for that magnifying glass you gave him. We guessed it was a murder and he thought he’d like to do some private detection.”

“ Honestly!” said Frid, and burst out laughing.

“Look here, Nanny,” said Alleyn. “Suppose you take me along to the nursery and stand by. If you think I’m exciting him you can order me out.”

Nanny pulled down the corners of her mouth. “It’s for his mother to say, sir,” she said.

“I think I’ll just explain and bring him here to see you, Mr. Alleyn.”

Alleyn stood up. The movement had the effect of calling them all to attention. Lady Charles rose and the men with her. She faced Alleyn. There was a brief silence.

Alleyn said: “I think, if you don’t mind, I’ll go with Nanny. Of course if they think it would be advisable, his parents may be present while I speak to him.” Some shade of inflection in his voice seemed to catch the attention of the parents. Lady Charles said: “Yes, I think I’d rather…” hesitated, and glanced at her husband.

“I’m sure Mr. Alleyn will be very considerate with Mike,” he said and, behind the somewhat stylized courtesy which he was beginning to recognize as a characteristic of Lord Charles’s, Alleyn thought he heard a note of warning. Perhaps Lady Charles heard it too for she said quickly: “Yes, of course. I expect Mike will be too thrilled. Nanny, will you wake him and explain?”

Alleyn went to the door and opened it. “I don’t expect we shall be very long,” he said.

Henry laughed unpleasantly: Frid said: “When you’ve met Mike, Mr. Alleyn, you’ll realize that no one on earth could prime him with any story.”

“Don’t be an ass, Frid,” said Colin.

“What you may not realize,” said Henry suddenly, “is that Mike is a most accomplished little liar. He’ll think he’s telling the truth but if an agreeably dramatic invention occurs to him he’ll use it.”

“How old is Michael?” Alleyn asked Lady Charles.

“Eleven.”

“Eleven? A splendid age. Do you know that in the police-courts we regard small boys between the ages of ten and fifteen as ideal witnesses? They almost top the list.”

“Really?” said Henry. “And what type of witness do the experts put at the bottom of the list?”

“Oh,” said Alleyn with his politely depracting air, “young people, you know. Young people of both sexes between the ages of sixteen and twenty-six.”

“Why?” asked the twins and Henry and Frid simultaneously.

“The text-books say that they are generally rather unobservant,” Alleyn murmured. “Too much absorbed in themselves and their own reactions. May we go, Nanny?”

Without a word Nanny led the way into the hall. Alleyn followed her and shut the door but not before he heard Frid say: “And that, my dears, takes us off with a screech of laughter and a couple of loud thumps.”