Dance to Your Daddy

number of years ago, perhaps. He has been living in Kenya until fairly recently, you know.'

'His story about the finding of the body is pretty fishy, don't you think?'

'I have an open mind about that. It is only fishy if he is the murderer, wouldn't you say? And, of course, suspicion must rest on him if, as the servants think likely-I will not put it more strongly than that, although, of course, they did-neither Hubert nor Willoughby was invited to join the house-party.'

'Could you make that a bit clearer, ma'am?'

'Yes. I mean that, if they were not invited, why should Romilly insist that they were, and make such a point of not having had a letter of explanation to account for their non-appearance? But, to return to my previous point, surely a routine enquiry will unearth somebody as capable as Mr Hubert of identifying the body?'

'I know you well enough to take as broad a hint as that, Dame Beatrice. Right! We'll scrub the Reverend Hubert and find another witness. The lawyers can do that for us, most likely.'

'I do not think you need trouble them. If it is Mr Willoughby, I have the witness you need in my own care.'

'Miss Rosamund Lestrange, you mean, ma'am? I'd sooner find a man. I don't think the corpse is something a young lady ought to be asked to identify. The doctors couldn't make it look exactly pretty, you know, after the bashing it got on those rocks. No, we'll find someone, all right. We'll track down somebody on the staff of the last hotel his grandfather stayed at. That should do the trick, I think. Mr Willoughby was Mr Felix Napoleon's secretary until the old gentleman's death, I think you said, so there will be a number of people in the Carlisle hotel who'll remember him.'

(2)

'The police don't accept Romilly's identification of the body?' said Judith. 'But why not?'

'The brothers were much alike, from what I remember of them,' said Romilly, 'and, of course, the face was in a dreadful mess. It would be easy enough to make a mistake, and, apparently, that is what I did. So Hubert is in Italy, is he? Oh, well, that settles it. Shall I still have to appear at the inquest?'

'I'm afraid so, sir,' said Kirkby. The jury will want to hear about your discovery of the body.'

'The jury? But this is a coroner's court! It isn't a court of justice!'

'In cases of violent death, sir, the coroner sits with a jury composed of seven to eleven persons. Their verdict need not be unanimous, but can be accepted provided that the minority does not number more than two persons. That is the law as it stands at present.'

'I don't care about this idea of a jury. It seems to me to smack of the criminal courts.'

'Well, those will have to come into it in due course, sir, won't they? This was not an accidental death.'

'Is that quite certain, though, Detective-Inspector? Those cliffs are very dangerous.'

'You will hear the medical evidence at the inquest, sir.'

'Well, Romilly,' said Dame Beatrice, when Kirkby had gone, 'it is as well that the mistake in identification was discovered in time, before the funeral took place. It is a grisly matter disinterring a corpse. What made you think it was Hubert?'

'I had not seen Caesar's boys except in the photographs he sent out to Kenya. I confused one with the other, that's all. Are they bringing Hubert over here to identify the body, do you know?'

'I doubt it,' said Dame Beatrice obliquely. 'There must be numbers of people who knew Willoughby.'

She was aware of Romilly's sigh of relief. She caught up with Kirkby. He was strolling towards the gates of Galliard Hall, outside which he had left the car which had brought him from Dorchester.

'Well?' he said. 'Any signs of guilt?'

'Nothing but signs of relief that he will not come face to face with Hubert at the inquest.'

'Oh, well, families being what they are, that's understandable, perhaps. It need not be a sign of guilt. Well, my next job is to find a reliable witness. The inquest is to be on Thursday, and it may have to be adjourned. It just depends upon what I can ferret out in the next couple of days, although I haven't much hope at present of anything new turning up in such a short time. You'll come along, I hope?'

'Most certainly. Where will it be held?'

'In the great hall of Galliard Hall itself. Mr Romilly has no objection to that, and it will be the most convenient place, as it is the only room in the neighbourhood, apart from a church hall, large enough for the purpose. I'll hope to see you at ten o'clock on Thursday morning, then.'

(3)

Kirkby's car was out of sight, and Dame Beatrice was about to enter her own, when a third car descended the long slope, a car which she recognised as that of her son Ferdinand. He was with his wife, and, with a wave of the hand to Dame Beatrice, he drove through the lodge gates and up to the house, presumably to carry out his assignment.

'Drive to the top of the hill, George,' said Dame Beatrice to her chauffeur, 'and find a place where we can park the car off the road. We will wait for Sir Ferdinand. I hope that he may have something interesting to tell me.'

George did as he was ordered, and they waited for the better part of an hour before Ferdinand's car came round the bend of the narrow road and pulled up on the grass verge just in front of them. Ferdinand got out. Dame Beatrice lowered the back-seat window.

'Give you lunch at Sandbanks, mother, and drop you at the Stone House afterwards,' he said, when he came up.

Dame Beatrice accepted this invitation, climbed into his car and left him to tell George to take her own car home.