‘He may be a cunning young fox, of course,’ he said.
‘Sometimes the truth has the effect of pepper in the eyes. It leads to temporary blindness.’
‘I see that you understand me.’
‘Dashed if
‘Well, if he wasn’t foxing,’ her husband explained, ‘he more than ever laid himself open to being offered the position of Suspect Number One when he admitted that he married the girl for her money.’
‘Oh, that! But, to me, he’s always been the most likely person to have killed her.’
‘The choice of that coach as a hiding-place for the body?’
‘He would have heard from her about the Highpepper rag. It made quite an impression on the Calladale students, you know, and it’s become a legend in Garchester.’
‘Yes, I see. Oh, well, suspect him, by all means, but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. What says Dame B.?’
‘She must speak for herself,’ said Laura, ‘but I am under the impression that she agrees with you. If only the body had been identified with more certainty! I expect the unfortunate mum took one quick, shuddering glance and felt sick. Rats! Ugh!’
‘Quite,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘That cellar, or warehouse, or whatever it is, is being diligently sought for by the police. I wonder how Carey’s predecessor is getting along?’ she added suddenly. ‘I must find out from Miss McKay which hospital he is in, and send him a bunch of grapes. It is only fitting that one who has been the means of putting a fat salary, albeit a temporary one, into my nephew’s pockets, should be the recipient of tangible benefits. Not that grapes are everybody’s choice, of course.’
‘That’s one thing about broken limbs. You can still
‘That, of course, is the problem. I think we must take our chance. It seems unsporting to decoy him away, since some amount of suspicion appears to be attaching itself to him. I shall not attempt it. We must not lower our standards of fair play. It would be un-English. The English are now the keepers of the world’s conscience, having, in some respects, lost their own.’
The visit to Mrs Biancini was paid by Dame Beatrice alone. Laura had been prepared for this decision and was in no mood to contest it. For several weeks her baby son had been with her own parents in Scotland, so, as Gavin had secured some leave, Dame Beatrice suggested that Laura should spend it with him and the baby boy. She saw them off at King’s Cross and from there was driven to the Biancinis’ unpretentious home. Knowing how unpopular Coles was likely to be with his mother-in-law, she was ready with a question which she felt would not be resented.
‘From a remark you made when you visited the college,’ she said, leaning forward from a comfortable armchair, ‘I gathered that you had expected financial help from your daughter as soon as she had secured a post at the end of her college course.’
‘Well, am I to blame for that?’ demanded Mrs Biancini, who, rather to Dame Beatrice’s surprise, appeared to be flattered by the visit. ‘I mean to say, bringing her up without a proper man’s money, as I’d done until she was seventeen, there was no harm in me thinking she’d do something to prove her gratitude, was there, do you think?’
Honesty, and a strong sense of the deep injustice of this all-too-common parental attitude, caused Dame Beatrice to remain silent for a moment. When she spoke, it was not in answer to the question.
‘Mr Coles,’ she said, very mildly, ‘seemed to think that he had something to gain from marrying your daughter.’
‘Oh, that! He was quite right. As I told you before, Norah stood to come in for about two thousand pounds when she left college. That would be a lot of money for a penniless ne’er-do-well like him.’
‘What happens now?’
The question was so appallingly crude that Mrs Biancini could scarcely think quickly enough to show that she resented it. She took no trouble to word her answer carefully.
‘We’ve got to get the lawyers on to that, unless Tony and I can do something about it on our own. Not a fiddle, I don’t mean. Tony will know. He’s good at finding the best way to go about things, but, of course, he’d never touch anything shady.’ Mrs Biancini sounded so much on the defensive that Dame Beatrice was immediately interested. ‘People call him Wop and Dago and Eye-tie, but he’s a nice fellow and a good husband. Of course, he’s got his faults. I don’t dispute that. But, there! Girls are such silly creatures nowadays that you really can’t blame a man, can you? What I mean, Tony has an eye for a figure, I’m bound to say that. But he’s harmless. He’d never think of misbehaving himself. He’s like all the Italians—just lively.’
‘I had the pleasure of meeting Mr Biancini at the college, if you remember,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘He has quite forgotten his summer holiday, I imagine, with all this trouble and upset coming upon you both?’
‘His summer holiday?’ (The trouble and upset were obviously sublimated by this time.)
‘Yes. The camp, you know.’
‘The camp?’
‘The holiday camp at Bracklesea. You were with him there, were you not? I’ve often wondered what these camps are like. Do tell me.’
Mrs Biancini was more than surprised.
‘I’ve never been to a holiday camp in my life. They’re run for teen-agers,’ she declared. ‘And, anyway, we couldn’t have gone this summer because Mr Biancini and me were visiting relations in Italy. Not that I’d call it a holiday, not if you knew his relations, if we’d had to stop with them. I moved on to a posh hotel, I don’t mind telling you.’
It was Dame Beatrice’s turn to appear to be surprised, but she did not take advantage of the opportunity. What she
