Dead Man's Folly - Agatha Christie [40]
‘I think you’re talking nonsense – absolute nonsense! Are you suggesting – what you are suggesting?’
‘I’m only suggesting,’ said Inspector Bland, ‘that there’s a great deal we don’t know as yet. It’s possible, for instance, that Marlene, for some reason, came out of the boathouse. She may even have been strangled somewhere else, and her body brought back and arranged on the floor. But even if so, whoever arranged her was again someone who was thoroughly cognisant with all the details of the Murder Hunt. We always come back to that.’ He added in a slightly changed voice, ‘I can assure you, Sir George, that we’re doing all we can to find Lady Stubbs. In the meantime I’d like to have a word with Mr and Mrs Alec Legge and Mr Michael Weyman.’
‘Amanda.’
‘I’ll see what I can do about it, Inspector,’ said Miss Brewis. ‘I expect Mrs Legge is still telling fortunes in the tent. A lot of people have come in with the half-price admission since five o’clock, and all the side shows are busy. I can probably get hold of Mr Legge or Mr Weyman for you – whichever you want to see first.’
‘It doesn’t matter in what order I see them,’ said Inspector Bland.
Miss Brewis nodded and left the room. Sir George followed her, his voice rising plaintively.
‘Look here, Amanda, you’ve got to…’
Inspector Bland realized that Sir George depended a great deal upon the efficient Miss Brewis. Indeed, at this moment, Bland found the master of the house rather like a small boy.
Whilst waiting, Inspector Bland picked up the telephone, demanded to be put through to the police station at Helmmouth and made certain arrangements with them concerning the yacht Espérance.
‘You realize, I suppose,’ he said to Hoskins, who was obviously quite incapable of realizing anything of the sort, ‘that there’s just one perfectly possible place where this damn’ woman might be – and that’s on board De Sousa’s yacht?’
‘How d’you make that out, sir?’
‘Well, the woman has not been seen to leave by any of the usual exits, she’s togged up in a way that makes it unlikely that she’s legging it through the fields or woods, but it is just possible that she met De Sousa by appointment down at the boathouse and that he took her by launch to the yacht, returning to the fête afterwards.’
‘And why would he do that, sir?’ demanded Hoskins, puzzled.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said the inspector, ‘and it’s very unlikely that he did. But it’s a possibility. And if she is on the Espérance, I’ll see to it that she won’t get off there without being observed.’
‘But if her fair hated the sight of him…’ Hoskins dropped into the vernacular.
‘All we know is that she said she did. Women,’ said the inspector sententiously, ‘tell a lot of lies. Always remember that, Hoskins.’
‘Aah,’ said Constable Hoskins appreciatively.
II
Further conversation was brought to an end as the door opened and a tall vague-looking young man entered. He was wearing a neat grey flannel suit, but his shirt collar was crumpled and his tie askew and his hair stood up on end in an unruly fashion.
‘Mr Alec Legge?’ said the inspector, looking up.
‘No,’ said the young man, ‘I’m Michael Weyman. You asked for me, I understand.’
‘Quite true, sir,’ said Inspector Bland. ‘Won’t you take a chair?’ He indicated a chair at the opposite side of the table.
‘I don’t care for sitting,’ said Michael Weyman, ‘I like to stride about. What are all you police doing here anyway? What’s happened?’
Inspector Bland looked at him in surprise.
‘Didn’t Sir George inform you, sir?’ he asked.
‘Nobody’s “informed me,” as you put it, of anything. I don’t sit in Sir George’s pocket all the time. What has happened?’
‘You’re staying in the house, I understand?’
‘Of course I’m staying in the house. What’s that got to do with it?’
‘Simply that I imagined that all the people staying in the house would by now have been informed of this afternoon’s tragedy.’
‘Tragedy? What tragedy?’
‘The girl who was playing the part of the murder victim has been killed.’
‘No!’ Michael Weyman seemed exuberantly surprised. ‘Do you mean really