Ngaio Marsh - Death in a White Tie

THE CHARACTERS IN THE TALE

Chief Detective-Inspector Roderick Alleyn, CID

Lady Alleyn: His mother

Sarah Alleyn: His dbutante niece

Miss Violet Harris: Secretary to Lady Carrados

Lady Evelyn Carrados: A London hostess

Bridget OBrien: Her daughter

Sir Herbert Carrados: Her husband

Lord Robert Gospell (Bunchy): A relic of Victorian days

Sir Daniel Davidson: A fashionable London physician

Agatha Troy, RA: A painter

Lady Mildred Potter: Lord Roberts widowed sister

Donald Potter: Her son a medical student

Mrs Halcut-Hackett: A social climber

General Halcut-Hackett: Her husband

Miss Rose Birnbaum: Her protge

Captain Maurice Withers (Wits): A man about town

Colombo Dimitri: A fashionable caterer

Lucy, Dowager Marchioness of Lorrimer: An eccentric old lady

A Taxi-driver

Detective-Inspector Fox, CID

Miss Smith: A friend of Miss Harris

Percy Percival: A young man about town

Mr Trelawney-Caper: His friend

James dArcy Carewe: A detective-constable

Franois Dupont: Dimitris servant

Mr Cuthbert: Manager of the Matador

Vassily: Alleyns servant

The Reverend Walter Harris: A retired clergyman

Mrs Walter Harris: His wife

The Assistant Commissioner

Roderick, said Lady Alleyn, looking at her son over the top of her spectacles, I am coming out.

Out? repeated Chief Detective-Inspector Alleyn vaguely. Out where, mama? Out of what?

Out into the world. Out of retirement. Out into the season. Out. Dear me, she added confusedly, how absurd a word becomes if one says it repeatedly. Out.

Alleyn laid an official-looking document on the breakfast-table and stared at his mother.

What can you be talking about? he said.

Dont be stupid, darling. I am going to do the London season.

Have you taken leave of your senses?

I think perhaps I have. I have told George and Grace that I will bring Sarah out this coming season. Here is a letter from George and here is another from Grace. Government House, Suva. They think it charming of me to offer.

Good Lord, mama, said Alleyn, you must be demented. Do you know what this means?

I believe I do. It means that I must take a flat in London. It means that I must look up all sorts of people who will turn out to be dead or divorced or remarried. It means that I must give little luncheon-parties and cocktail-parties and exchange cutlets with hard-working mothers. It means that I must sit in ballrooms praising other womens granddaughters and securing young men for my own. I shall be up until four oclock five nights out of seven and Im afraid, darling, that my black lace and my silver charmeuse will not be quite equal to the strain. So that in addition to buying clothes for Sarah I shall have to buy some for myself. And I should like to know what you think about that, Roderick?

I think it is all utterly preposterous. Why the devil cant George and Grace bring Sarah out themselves?

Because they are in Fiji, darling.

Well, why cant she stay in until they return?

Georges appointment is for four years. In four years your niece will be twenty-two. An elderly sort of dbutante.

Why has Sarah got to come out? Why cant she simply emerge?

That I cannot tell you, but George and Grace certainly could. I rather see it, I must say, Roderick. A girl has such fun doing her first season. There is nothing like it, ever again. And now we have gone back to chaperones and all the rest of it, it really does seem to have some of the old glamour.

You mean dbutantes have gone back to being treated like hothouse flowers for three months and taking their chance as hardy perennials for the rest of their lives?

If you choose to put it like that. The system is not without merit, my dear.

It may be quite admirable, but isnt it going to be a bit too exhausting for you? Where is Sarah, by the way?

She is always rather late for breakfast. How wonderfully these children sleep, dont they? But we were talking about the season, werent we? I think I shall enjoy it, Rory. And really and truly it wont be such hard work. Ive heard this morning from Evelyn Carrados. She was Evelyn OBrien, you know. Evelyn Curtis, of course, in the first instance, but thats so long ago nobody bothers about it. Not that shes as old as that, poor girl. She cant be forty yet. Quite a chicken, in fact. Her mother was my greatest friend. We did the season together when we came out. And now heres Evelyn bringing her own girl out and offering to help with Sarah. Could anything be more fortunate?

Nothing, responded Alleyn dryly. I remember Evelyn OBrien.

I should hope you do. I did my best to persuade you to fall in love with her.

Did I fall in love with her?

No. I could never imagine why, as she was quite lovely and very charming. Now I come to think of it, you hadnt much chance as she herself fell madly in love with Paddy OBrien who returned suddenly from Australia.

I remember. A romantic sort of bloke, wasnt he?

Yes. They were married after a short engagement. Five months later he was killed in a motor accident. Wasnt it awful?

Awful.

And then in six months or so along came this girl, Bridget. Evelyn called her Bridget because Paddy was Irish. And then, poor Evelyn, she married Herbert Carrados. Nobody ever knew why.

Im not surprised. Hes a frightful bore. He must be a great deal older than Evelyn.

A thousand years and so pompous you cant believe hes true. You know him evidently.

Vaguely. Hes something pretty grand in the City.

Alleyn lit his mothers cigarette and his own. He walked over to the french window and looked across the lawn.

Your garden is getting ready to come out, too, he said. I wish I hadnt to go back to the Yard.

Now, darling? This minute?

Afraid so. Its this case. He waved some papers in his hand. Fox rang up late last night. Somethings cropped up.

What sort of case is it?

Blackmail, but youre not allowed to ask questions.

Rory, how exciting. Whos being blackmailed? Somebody frightfully important, I hope?

Do you remember Lord Robert Gospell?

Bunchy Gospell, do you mean? Surely hes not being blackmailed. A more innocent creature

No, mama, he isnt. Nor is he a blackmailer.

Hes a dear little man, said Lady Alleyn emphatically. The nicest possible little man.

Not so little nowadays. Hes very plump and wears a cloak and a sombrero like G.K.C.

Really?

You must have seen photographs of him in your horrible illustrated papers. They catch him when they can. Lord Robert (Bunchy) Gospell tells one of his famous stories. That sort of thing.

Yes, but whats he got to do with blackmail?

Nothing. He is, as you say, an extremely nice little man.

Roderick, dont be infuriating. Has Bunchy Gospell got anything to do with Scotland Yard?

Alleyn was staring out into the garden.

You might say, he said at last, that we have a very great respect for him at the Yard. Not only is he charming he is also, in his own way, a rather remarkable personage.

Lady Alleyn looked at her son meditatively for some seconds.

Are you meeting him today? she asked.

I think so.

Why?

Why, darling, to listen to one of his famous stories, I suppose.