Nest of Vipers

‘I am anxious to talk to that antique dealer as soon as possible. We will do as you suggest. After that, well, at this time of year the hotels in such a little town as this are unlikely to be full.’

‘Stay a night here, you mean?’

‘Two nights, unless the man opens his shop on Sundays.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. Oh, well, we always keep overnight bags in the boot, so we can manage all right.’

‘Thanks to a splendidly practical arrangement which you suggested a long time ago, yes, we can. So now, with easy minds, to our interview.’

Billie opened the door to them again and said, in a low tone, after she had greeted them: ‘Ellie is a bit shattered, so don’t expect too much from her, poor kid.’

Elysee was standing at the window with her back to the room when they went in. When she turned round, Laura was not struck so much by the fact that ‘shattered’ seemed the appropriate word, as that she was so young and so tall. She came forward and greeted them with controlled composure and added, ‘Billie has told me why you’ve come, but I don’t think I can help you.’

‘Well, we can all sit down and have a drink, anyway,’ said Billie. ‘Will you have this chair, Dame Beatrice?’

‘Well,’ said Dame Beatrice, seating herself as she was directed, ‘and how did you leave Miss McHaig?’

The effect of this question startled everybody but the questioner. Elysee, who was still standing, gave a kind of croak, put a hand out as though she was a blind person groping for something in a strange environment, swayed and, but for Laura’s quick reaction in leaping up and catching her, would have fallen to the carpet.

‘She’s fainted,’ said Billie unnecessarily. She went to Laura’s assistance.

‘Shove her head down,’ said Laura, ‘and let’s get her into a chair.’

‘Right,’ said Dame Beatrice, who had regarded the proceedings benevolently. ‘And now, my poor child, we will have your answer to my question. Shall I repeat it?’

‘No,’ said Elysee, as Billie allowed her to raise her head from between her knees, ‘I know what you said. When I left Cassie she was lying on the bedroom floor bleeding from the head. The hotel people were ringing for a doctor. Polly told them she had tripped over a rug and hit her head, but she hadn’t, of course. He had knocked her down because she’d said things. If she dies, he’ll be a murderer.’

‘Have you rung the hotel to find out how she is?’ asked Dame Beatrice sternly, before hysterical tears could choke her victim’s utterance.

‘Of course not. Polly told me to stay out of it, and I’m going to.’ Elysee put on an air of defiance.

‘How can you stay out of it if you were there with him?’ demanded Billie.

‘I wasn’t with him. We booked in separately.’

‘So you had that much sense!’

‘It was Polly’s idea. He said he and Cassie had stayed there before, and it was the first place she’d come to, and that’s what he wanted, a showdown, and then he’d have done with her for always.’

‘Poor old Cassie!’ said Billie, in such dispassionate tones that Elysee gave her a terrified glance and this time did burst into tears.

‘Well,’ said Dame Beatrice, getting up, ‘since you can tell us nothing helpful about the death of Miss Minnie, we had better take our leave.’

‘Oh, don’t go! Don’t leave me while she’s in this state!’ said Billie. ‘I could cope when I thought she was only suffering from—’ she grinned, but it turned into a clownish grimace – ‘the unwelcome attentions of a heel, but if anything’s happened to Cassie McHaig, it’s a different kettle of fish altogether, because—’

‘Nothing’s happened to her,’ sobbed Elysee, reversing a previous opinion. ‘Of course it hasn’t! It can’t have!’

‘If I were you,’ said Billie, ‘I’d ring up this prizefighting Casanova of yours and get him to give you the latest bulletin. You need only ask to speak to him. The hotel receptionist won’t know who you are.’

‘She will when she asks who’s calling,’ said Elysee, sniffing and then blowing her nose.

‘Oh, don’t be a fool! Give a false name, of course. Give mine. That will tip off this blasted Hempseed – good God! What a name! – that it’s you, and he’ll be ready with his story by the time they’ve paged him and he’s got to the phone.’

‘You ring him,’ said Elysee. She turned to Dame Beatrice when Billie had gone out into the hall. ‘What did you think I could tell you about Miss Minnie?’ she asked. ‘And why me?’

‘Well,’ Dame Beatrice replied, ‘I will begin by answering your second question. Enquiries at Weston Pipers have established that, whereas Miss Kennett was accustomed to report daily at her newspaper office, you yourself spent at least three days a week in your flat.’

‘Well, Niobe Nutley spent seven days a week there and, when she was there, so did Sumatra – not that she’d notice anything which went on. Irelath was her whole life, I believe. She didn’t really have eyes or ears for anybody else.’

‘Quite. As for Miss Nutley, I have already talked to her. Now, Miss Barnes, you are young, emotional and, I would think, kind-hearted. What was your opinion of Miss Minnie?’

‘I don’t think I formed one. If I thought about her at all, I suppose I looked on her as a poor lonely old thing who didn’t get much fun out of life.’

‘When you were alone on those three days a week, did you often go out in your car?’

‘No, because the days when I didn’t have to go up to Town, Billie had the car. Other days she used her moped, but that’s not an all-weather vehicle exactly, and anyway, I always think four wheels are much safer than two.’