Nest of Vipers

‘And numberless fertility rites outside them, although their practitioners nowadays seldom recognise them for what they are. At risk of causing you a certain amount of disappointment, I will go alone to visit Miss Barnes for this second time.’

‘She’ll be more likely to talk to you on your own, you think? I guess that’s so. Anything useful I can do while you’re gone?’

‘Yes, if you will be so good. Nothing may come of your errand, so I must warn you against more disappointment. I should like you to take your yataghan to Weston Pipers, tell Niobe Nutley where it was purchased, but do not, of course, mention that I was with you when you bought it, and ask her whether it has a history. She will tell you that she knows nothing about it, since it did not come from Weston Pipers, which, I have no doubt, is true.’

‘Then what?’

‘In the words of one of the ancient ballads of which you and I are fond, “and do you stand a little away, and listen well what she shall say”.’

‘Willie’s Lady. You don’t think Niobe is a witch, do you?’

‘There are less likely possibilities. Of course, do not press your point about the yataghan. I trust to your discretion.’

‘Implied rebuke noted and digested.’

‘Neither implied nor intended.’

‘Right, then, I’ll be an auditor.’

‘An actor, too, perchance, if you see cause, but prenez garde, as Abbie would say. First, however, we have to explain ourselves further to the police – or so I fancy. There was an unfathomable expression upon the Superintendent’s bland and otherwise benign countenance. He will want to know more about our researches.’

Chapter Thirteen

Another Case for the Police

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‘SO here’s a pretty kettle of fish,’ said Laura to the Detective Superintendent. ‘A nice thing for the wife of an Assistant Commissioner at New Scotland Yard to go about the place snooping in at windows and discovering dead bodies.’

‘Mustn’t pull your rank, you know, Mrs Gavin,’ said the Superintendent, with an avuncular smile.

‘I must. Otherwise you might think I’d done the job myself,’ retorted Laura. ‘I know you lot! The first person on the scene is also the first to be suspected.’

‘Oh, no. That honour, ma’am, goes to the last person known to have been present. I may tell you – but this is not for publication at present – that our investigations into the death of Miss Minnie have caused us to keep a wary eye on this Black Magic gang, and even now that this Bosey whom we think was their leader has gone, if we can catch them putting even half a foot wrong, it’s curtains for their organisation, because we shall jug the lot of them. They wouldn’t be any loss to society, I assure you.’

‘You haven’t really got anything on them yet, then?’

‘Only simple faith that they’re up to N.B.G. That goes especially for Minnie and this Bosey who kept the junk shop. We’ve been able to trace their movements over the last ten years or so, and everywhere they went there are histories of missing schoolgirls. Those two beauties are out of it now, but the rest of their crew must have guilty knowledge of what went on. Of course, girls do go missing, the silly little what-I-won’t-describe, but the coincidences occurred a bit too often to be ignored, and we were getting ready to crack down on this little organisation when this chap, who seems to have been the boss-cat of a very dirty alley, got himself bumped off.’

‘Or bumped himself off,’ put in Dame Beatrice, who, by previous agreement, had left the opening exchanges to Laura as the person who had first seen the body.

‘As you say, ma’am,’ said the Superintendent noncomittally. ‘That could be so of course. Only thing is that those milk bottles seem to tell a different story.’

‘Have you spoken to the milkman?’

‘We have, ma’am. Most of his ilk are sharp-witted fellows who soon smell a rat if milk is left on a doorstep, especially if the householder is elderly and lives alone. This chap seems to have been an exception. He’s also an auxiliary. The regular deliveryman happens to have been down with flu during the period under advisement. This chap says he noticed that two bottles hadn’t been taken in, and that there was a CLOSED notice on the shop door, but he didn’t know what to do. He left the third bottle, but had wit enough to report at the depot. They told him not to leave any more, but, the next time he called, all the bottles had disappeared. However, he obeyed orders and did not leave any more milk, figuring that the customer, with three bottles in hand, was hardly short of milk and would contact him when he wanted more. All the householder had to do was what most of us do, just stick a note in an empty bottle, but Bosey doesn’t seem to have done this.’

‘Apparently not, Superintendent. I spoke to the man myself on one occasion.’

‘The milkman? Really, ma’am? How was that, then.’

‘Mrs Gavin and I had visited the shop and she had made a purchase. In the back of the shop I had seen a picture which, I thought, had magical connections and I wanted to persuade the proprietor to sell it to me, but the shop was closed. Although there was no milk on the step, I noticed that the man did not leave any.’

‘Well, the bottles do pose a problem, Dame Beatrice. Now, ma’am, the doctors (we had two of them, our own and an outsider) agree that the corpse was at least three days old when they examined it, so who but the murderer took in the milk?’