“Yes,” said Rupert. “Yes, that’s right.” He still seemed to have difficulty in coming to whatever might be the point. There was a further clinking of ice and hissing of soda.
“I had thought,” said Jocasta, “that you and Millie were getting along particularly well together during the past fortnight.” Her words provoked a melancholy sigh.
“So did I, Mama-in-law, so did I. Thought she quite enjoyed having her old dad about to squire her to restaurants and the casino and that sort of thing. Yes, I’ll admit it, I had the idea I’d got a pretty good relationship with my daughter. Until yesterday.” Another heavy sigh. “Shows how wrong you can be.”
“My dear Rupert, you astonish me. I thought that yesterday was delightful.”
“Well, it didn’t start too well from my point of view. The original idea, you remember, was for me to help Camilla sail the boat down to Gouvia and meet the rest of you in town for dinner. Then Dolly’s kids decide at the last moment that they want to come along for the ride, so bang goes my idea of having Millie to myself for the day. Still, they were off as soon as we’d moored at Gouvia — scared they might have to help with tidying the boat up, I expect. That’s when I remembered that Millie hadn’t signed that letter yet — you know, the one to Tancred about changing the investments. So I suggested perhaps she might like to sign it right away and let me bring it back to London with me. And do you know what she said? She said she’d have to think about it. That hurt, Mama-in-law, it hurt.”
Further cynical glances were exchanged on the balcony. “Really, Rupert, if that’s all that’s worrying you, I think you’re making far too much of it. She naturally wouldn’t want you to think her the sort of girl who signs things of that kind without thinking about them.”
“I’m her father, Mama-in-law — it’s pretty wounding to find she doesn’t trust me. Or doesn’t trust my judgment.”
“My dear Rupert, I’m quite sure that’s not at all what she meant.”
“Wasn’t it? You haven’t heard the whole story yet. I told her, of course, that she was entitled to think it over if she wanted to. Tried to make a joke of it — said I hoped she didn’t think her old dad would try to pull a fast one on her. To which she said no, of course not, but fifty thousand pounds was a lot of money and she didn’t want to do anything silly; she’d gathered that the business of the company was dealing in commodity futures, and she’d heard it could be a rather risky market. So I said I was very pleased to see her taking an interest in financial affairs and asked where she’d got her information. And do you know who she’d been talking to?”
“My dear Rupert, I have no idea.”
“That know-all little pansy Leonidas, if you please. Has an economics lesson once a week at his so-called public school, reads the
It was at this point that Julia sneezed. The pollen count was high, and the poor creature is susceptible to it.
“Rupert,” said Jocasta, “what was that noise outside?” Rupert stepped out on to the balcony. His mouth, when he perceived our presence, fell open under its drooping mustache; his watery blue gaze, as it passed from one to another of us, held much of surprise and little of delight. He seemed about to speak. With a smile of infinite complicity and infinite reassurance, Selena raised her forefinger to her lips and gently shook her head: it was a gesture, as I understood it, designed to suggest that our presence on Rupert’s balcony was in some way connected with aspects of his private life of which he might prefer his mother-in-law to remain unaware. After a moment of perplexity and hesitation, Rupert understood it in a similar sense: he withdrew from the balcony.
“It’s nothing, Mama-in-law — something on the towpath — my cleaning woman must have left the windows open.”
CHAPTER 10
Properly regarded,” said Selena, as she settled in the driving-seat of her motor vehicle and prepared to drive us back to Lincoln’s Inn, “that all passed off rather well. I don’t say that Rupert was entirely satisfied with our explanation for being on his balcony; but at least he accepted it without the rather searching cross-examination to which we might have been subjected by Jocasta, had she still been present when we offered it.”
“We were obliged,” said Ragwort, “to tell a quite extraordinary number of lies.”
“My dear Ragwort,” said Selena, “whatever can you mean? We said that Julia had been invited to Rupert’s flat for a drink by his friend Rowena: that was true. We said that we had come to collect her and take her back to Lincoln’s Inn: that was true. We said that we were in some haste and must leave at once: that was entirely true. How can you possibly suggest that we told any lies?”
She elected not to cross the river by the bridge at Chiswick but to remain on the south side of it until we reached Hammersmith — a distance which she covered with such rapidity as to move me to remark diffidently on the possible existence of a speed limit.
“In normal circumstances,” said Selena, “I would be quite willing to oblige you by dawdling along at any speed you found comfortable — say five miles an hour or so. You will perhaps recall, however, that I am hoping to catch a plane to Athens this evening, with a view to sailing round the Ionian Islands. The crew — namely Sebastian — has been instructed to report promptly for duty at 17:00 local time — or, as you landsmen would say, five o’clock this afternoon. To arrive late might seriously impair the authority of the skipper — namely mine — for the duration of the voyage.”
I perceived in her manner the blithe insouciance of a woman who had cast aside the responsibilities of practice at the Chancery Bar: it was as if she already breathed the salt Ionian air and her hand rested not on the steering-wheel of her car but on the tiller of some graceful sailing craft, cutting swiftly through the blue water. Knowing that in such a mood there could be no reasoning with her, I adopted the policy previously mentioned of keeping my eyes closed.
“I’m very sorry,” said Julia. “I’m afraid it’s my fault. I’ll explain to Sebastian, if we’re late, that it’s due to my embroiling you in a criminal investigation.”
I had not told them, I now realized, that our investigation was concluded, and that no crime had been committed. I thought it prudent to delay this disclosure until Selena had completed her negotiation of the streams of traffic moving rapidly round Hammersmith roundabout.
“We have been told,” I said, “that Rupert’s insult to Constantine Demetriou — that is to say, the Greek gigolo remark which resulted in Dolly being called down from the roof terrace — was uttered at the moment when the boats first came into view from the balcony. Between then and the moment at which Deirdre is known to have fallen we have supposed that a resolute person would have had time to ascend unobserved to the roof terrace and make a murderous attack on Deirdre.”
“The timing,” said Selena, “seemed fine but not impossible.”
“Quite so, if we had been right in assuming that the boats would have come into view when they passed Chiswick Steps. But the fact is that it is quite impossible from Rupert’s balcony to see anything like so far as that. The front of the building is at a slight angle to the river bank: the view upstream is admirable, but downstream, as Ragwort rightly remarked, it is very poor — one can see no farther than three or four hundred yards below Barnes Bridge. That is about a quarter of the distance to Chiswick Steps — the Boat Race crews would take, I suppose, no more than a minute to cover it. Which leaves, you see, no time at all for any attack on Deirdre. No one could have gone up to the roof before she fell without meeting Dolly on the way down from it. Indeed—”
“You were,” said Ragwort, “about to say?”
“I was about to say,” I said, “that very little time can have passed between the moment at which Dolly left the roof terrace and Deirdre either fell or jumped from it. Almost no time at all.”
“You surely aren’t suggesting,” said Ragwort, “that Dolly herself—? Oh nonsense, Hilary, she’s a simply delightful woman.”
“She is indeed,” I said, “a most charming and attractive woman. The study of history, however, demonstrates that charming and attractive women are not incapable of murder. You do see, don’t you, that if murder was committed she is the only person who had time to do it? On Boat Race Day, remember, and at so crucial a point in
