there with him until the young lady came to fetch them. This came out inch by reluctant inch.
Alleyn made very careful notes, taking her over the stages of her movements several times. She seemed to be perfectly sure of her own accuracy and repeated monotonously that she had seen nobody but Giggle and Michael, as she went along the passage, through the hall, across the landing and downstairs.
“Please think very carefully,” Alleyn repeated. “You saw nobody else? You are absolutely positive?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right,” said Alleyn, cheerfully. “And now, what did you talk about all the afternoon?” At this sudden change of tone and of tactics, Tinkerton’s air of disapproval deepened. “I really couldn’t say, sir,” she said thinly.
“You mean you don’t remember—”
“I don’t recollect.”
“But you must remember
Tinkerton primmed her lips again and said several things were mentioned.
“Well, let us hear some of them.”
Tinkerton said: “The young ladies and gentlemen came up.”
“Of course,” said Alleyn amiably, “you would discuss the family. Naturally.”
“They came up,” Tinkerton repeated guardedly.
“In what connection?”
“Mrs. Burnaby brought them up,” said Tinkerton, as if Nanny had suffered from a surfeit of Lampreys and had taken an emetic for it. “Miss Friede’s theatricals. I should,” added Tinkerton, “have said ‘Lady Friede.’ Pardon.”
“I suppose you are all very interested in her theatricals?”
A slightly acid tinge crept over Tinkerton’s face as she agreed that they were.
“And in all the family’s doings, I expect. Did Lord and Lady Wutherwood often pay visits to this flat?”
Not very often it seemed. Alleyn began to feel as if Tinkerton was a bad cork and himself an inefficient corkscrew, drawing out unimportant fragments, while large lumps of testimony fell into the wine and were lost.
“So this visit was quite an event,” he suggested. “Have you been in the London house for long?”
“No.”
“For how long?”
“We have not been there.”
“You mean you arrived in London to-day.” She didn’t answer. “Is that what you mean? Where did you come from?”
“From Deepacres.”
“From Deepacres? That’s in Kent, isn’t it? Did you come straight to this flat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Had his lordship ever done that before, do you know?”
“I don’t recollect.”
“When were you to return to Deepacres?”
“Her ladyship remarked to his lordship, on the way up, that she would like to stay in Town for a few days.”
“What did he say to that?”
“His lordship did not wish to remain in Town. His lordship wished to return to-morrow.”
“What decision did they come to?” asked Alleyn. Was it imagination, or had he got a slightly firm grip in the cork?
“His lordship,” said Tinkerton, “remarked that he had been dragged up to London and wouldn’t stay away longer than one night.”
“Then,” said Alleyn, “they had come to London solely on account of this visit to the flat?”
“I believe so, sir.”
“Where were you to spend the night?”
“In his lordship’s Town residence,” said Tinkerton genteelly. “Twenty-four Brummel Street, Park Lane.”
“At such short notice?”
“A skeleton staff is kept there,” said Tinkerton. “Of course,” she added.
“Do you know why this visit was undertaken?”
“His lordship received a telegram yesterday.”
“From Lord Charles Lamprey?”
“I believe so.”
“Have you any idea why Lord Charles wanted to see his brother?”
Tinkerton’s expression of disapproval became still deeper. Alleyn thought he saw a glint of complacency behind it. Perhaps, after all, Miss Tinkerton was not altogether proof against the delights of gossip.
“Her ladyship,” she said, “mentioned that it was a business visit. H’m.”
“And do you know the nature of the business?”
“It came up,” said Tinkerton, “on the drive during conversation between his lordship and her ladyship.”
“Yes?”
“I sat with Mr. Giggle in front and did not catch the remarks, beyond a word here and there.”
“Still, you gathered—”
“I did not listen,” said Tinkerton, “of course.”
“Of course not.”
“But his lordship raised his voice once or twice and said he would not do something that his brother wished him to do.”
“What was that, do you know?”
“It was money matters.” Something very like a sneer appeared on Tinkerton’s lips.
“What sort of money matters?”
“The usual thing. Wanting his lordship to pay out.”
He could get no more from her than that. She showed no particular reluctance to answering his questions and no particular interest in them. He began to wonder if she had any warmth of feeling or any sense of partisanship in her makeup. As an experiment, he led the conversation towards Lady Wutherwood, and found that Tinkerton had been in her service for fifteen years. Her ladyship, she said mincingly, was always very kind. Alleyn remembered those lack-lustre eyes and that sagging mouth and wondered wherein the kindness lay. He asked Tinkerton if she had noticed any change in her mistress. Tinkerton said dully that her ladyship was always the same, very kind. “And generous?” Alleyn ventured. Yes, it seemed her ladyship was generous and considerate. Pressing a little more persistently Alleyn asked if she had noticed no mental instability in Lady Wutherwood. Tinkerton instantly became an oyster and to his next questions either answered no, or did not answer at all. She did not think Lady Wutherwood’s behaviour was so very peculiar. She could not say whether Lady Wutherwood was interested in the occult. Lady Wutherwood did not take any medicine or drug of any sort. Lady Wutherwood’s relations with her husband were not in any way unusual. She couldn’t say what sort of nursing-home it was that Lady Wutherwood went to. She did not notice anything very odd in Lady Wutherwood’s manner a few minutes ago. Her ladyship was upset, said Tinkerton of her own accord, and people often spoke wildly when they were upset. It was only natural.
“Was that why you made signs to the nurse over her ladyship’s shoulder?” asked Alleyn.
“Her ladyship is suffering from shock,” said Tinkerton in a burst of comparative candour. “I understand her ladyship. I knew she ought not to be upset by questions. I knew she ought to be in bed.”
It was the same thing when they came to the late Lord Wutherwood. He was, said Tinkerton, a very quiet gentleman. She wouldn’t describe him as mean nor would she describe him as generous. She couldn’t say whether he had understood his wife. By using the strictest economy of words Tinkerton managed to convey the impression that Alleyn was making an exhibition of himself and, if that was really her opinion, he was inclined to agree with her. He ran out of questions and sat looking at this infuriating woman. Suddenly he rose to his feet and, walking
