The Death-Cap Dancers

Wayland Forest, as I said. I have accomodation for you there.’

‘Oh, but, look here,’ said Giles, ‘our jobs, you know, and some of us are at College. We’ve got to clock in! Our half-term holiday ended yesterday.’

‘You can notify the authorities, sir, and the Chief Constable will endorse your statements.’

‘Oh, but, dammit, that’s not good enough!’

‘I ought to point out to you, sir, that I have the option of holding you in custody as suspected persons.’

‘Suspected of what, for God’s sake?’

‘Murder is a very serious offence, sir.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Let it go, Giles,’ said Plum. ‘No use kicking up a shine. Later on, when this ghastly business is cleared up, you can sue for unlawful arrest, but it’s no good beefing now.’

‘I am not arresting anybody as yet,’ said Ribble, ‘and for your own sakes, gentlemen, you will be well advised to co-operate with me. I have cars waiting outside.’

‘What about young Pippa?’ asked Peter.

‘We shall take her with us, sir. Are you a particular friend of hers? If so, perhaps you would care to travel back with her and one of the other gentlemen. You, sir,’ he said to Giles, ‘will travel with Dame Beatrice and myself, and the rest will be accommodated in another police car.’

‘What about our bikes?’ demanded Plum.

‘I will send a van to pick them up, sir, but you will not have access to them for a couple of days or so, for obvious reasons.’

‘Oh, we shan’t attempt to do a bunk,’ said Ronnie. ‘Personally I’m all in favour of a couple of days’ extra holiday.’

The shock, Dame Beatrice saw, was wearing off. She was interested to note that there were no signs whatever of grief. Those must have worn off, too, if they had ever existed.

Over the Sunday night dinner at the Ewe and Lamb, Dame Beatrice had received a lively and more detailed account of the previous week’s happenings than she had already gained. John Trent and, to a lesser extent, Adam Penshaw, came into the picture and so did further accounts of the Wild Thyme show.

Dame Beatrice added her quota of information and then said to Hermione, ‘Laura will be here tomorrow. I shall be busy, I hope, as soon as she arrives and shall not be available to keep an eye on you. This murderer is one who appears to have a particular spite against young women—’

‘One of the two dancers who was attacked on Saturday was a man, I thought you said. ’

‘He was dressed as a woman, dear child.’

‘And made a remarkably good job of the impersonation, then. You could have fooled me,’ said Isobel.

‘He certainly seems to have deceived the murderer,’ said Erica.

‘Then why have the police rounded up the rest of them?’ asked Tamsin. ‘We’ve been talking things over since you went off with the inspector. They all knew this dead boy. They wouldn’t have mistaken him for a woman. They knew he was putting on an act.’

‘If he looked like a woman that might have been enough for the murderer. I mean, whoever has done these awful things must be completely insane,’ said Hermione. ‘Isn’t that so?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. There are legal definitions of insanity which may not coincide with your own. What I was about to do was to issue an order,’ said Dame Beatrice, leering at her great-niece.

‘I need only one guess. You gave me a pretty plain hint when you came to the cabin, didn’t you? You want me to go home. But why should I? I don’t know any of the Wild Thyme lot and none of them knows me. In any case you say the police have got the tabs on them. I’m not in any danger and there’s nearly another week of our holiday to run.’

‘Don’t be silly, Hermy One,’ said Isobel. ‘If it were certain that one of the Wild Thyme lot had murdered two of the others you might have a point, but it isn’t at all certain that one of them did. The police may have rounded them up as much for their own safety as because the inspector thinks one of them may be guilty. Another murder done elsewhere while they’re incarcerated could put them in the clear. Anyway, if you want to know, Tamsin and I are going home tomorrow. I don’t believe it was one of those dancers. Nobody breaks up a successful team by getting rid of two of its members and putting another one in hospital.’

‘So speaks the schoolmistress,’ said Erica, ‘and I agree with her. The murderer is some sort of sex-maniac. That’s clear enough. If you really want to know, our clinging burr, or even John Trent, is as likely a candidate as anybody else, and there may be a dozen other possibilities. There’s plenty of motiveless violence about in these days, unfortunately.’

‘I wish the police would put that girl under separate guard or let her go home,’ said Tamsin. ‘If it is one of the other Wild Thymers — and really I think it must be, so you can leave that stupid Penshaw and John Trent out of it — surely Pippa isn’t safe while she’s among them?’

‘Well, of course, she could be the murderer,’ said Hermione. ‘She may have had it in for the other two girls and hated her brother, too. You never know with families. All right, Great-aunt, you win, but I’d much rather stay here and see the thing through.’

‘You’d only be in the way,’ said Isobel. ‘Tell you what. Tamsin will go back to our parents and Erica will go home, so why don’t you come back and spend the week at my flat with me? The murders have spoilt this holiday, anyway. We could have lots of fun together in London.’

‘So there it is,’ said Dame Beatrice to Laura, whom she had sent for to join her at the Ewe and Lamb. ‘What do you make of it?’

‘Three girls and six men make a rather lop-sided team, don’t you think?’

‘Especially, perhaps, when the girls provide the music and the men do most of the dancing.’

‘Well, of course, morris and sword dances are male specialities. What else was on the programme?’

‘According to Hermione, a dozen folk-songs in which all the members except the flautist took part, a solo sword dance by the Scottish lad—’

‘Oh, yes, crossed claymores, I suppose.’

‘— a sailors’ hornpipe performed by two men and a girl, except that on this occasion the girl was a man in what the only remaining girl in the company referred to as ‘drag’—’

‘Oh, you’ve had speech with her, have you?’

‘Yes, this morning at the forest cabin where the dancers have been lodged by the police while enquiries are being pursued.’

‘What’s the girl like?’

‘I gathered that she is more apprehensive on her own account than grief-stricken because her brother has been injured.’

‘That’s interesting. Still, it does look as though it is the women in the party that the murderer is after.’

‘Yes, indeed. The sister told me that when her brother was dressed as a girl it was difficult for anybody, even the members of the company, to tell them apart. I think there is little doubt that he was attacked in mistake for her.’

‘In that case, won’t the murderer have another go? It seems hardly safe to let her stay among the rest of them.’

‘Unless, of course, Pippa Marton herself is the killer.’

‘And had it in for the other two girls? But what about her brother? Could he have found out that she was a murderess and so she had to try to eliminate him for her own sake in case he shopped her to the police?’

‘Any number of wild surmises can be made. The trouble with this one is that, unless the farmer’s wife is lying, the girl cannot have killed the first young woman. For that death she has a complete alibi.’

‘Alibis, like promises and eggs, are made to be broken.’

‘This one seems to be particularly sound.’

‘In other words,’ said Laura, ‘you don’t believe she did it. Well, I must say that knocking holes in people’s heads doesn’t seem the method a girl would choose for disposing of those she doesn’t like, so Pippa passes, I suppose.’

‘Are we overlooking Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite? When I have questioned the girl further, I may go to see the farmer’s wife again.’