Judith had wandered into the wood again. Not far from the belvedere – when she could see, indeed, the flat-capped figure of the constable now guarding it – she ran into Dr Fell. It was a mildly surprising encounter, and Fell himself appeared almost disconcerted. He came to a halt, and looked at Judith uncertainly.
‘Good morning, Dr Fell. Are you going down to the house?’
‘I am going wherever I can find the police, Lady Appleby. If possible, the Chief Constable himself.’
‘He is there, and so is my husband. They are probably still in Mr Martineau’s office.’
‘Thank you.’ Fell made as if to move on again, and then hesitated. ‘It’s a revolting business,’ he said. ‘But action I suppose there must be.’
‘The Martineaus’ death, you mean?’
‘No. That is very sad, of course. I gather it is now thought to be suspicious and sinister, into the bargain. It may well be so. But it wasn’t what I was thinking of. Ugly things are coming to light all over the place, are they not? In a matter of this sort, one scandal shakes up another.’
‘No doubt.’ Judith found this vague and uneasy remark curious. ‘The suggestion of some sort of drug-ring, for example.’
‘You know about that?’ Fell, who had begun to walk on beside Judith, came to a halt. ‘It’s certainly in the picture.’
‘I know about it – and that Bobby Angrave felt it was going to make life awkward for him.’
‘And that I feel the same?’ Fell looked at Judith with a faint smile. ‘You are a very direct person, Lady Appleby.’
‘What’s the good of not being?’
‘What, indeed. Well, I suspect it is true that Angrave had been a good deal more than silly. Something of the sort is sure to emerge, and it may as well be stated now… Is that a policeman by the belvedere?’
‘Yes. Was it there you were expecting to find Colonel Morrison? You were on the path to it, really.’
‘It was in my head.’ Fell produced this in his sudden vague manner. ‘Shall we go on there now? I value having a word with you.’
‘Very well.’ Judith walked on. ‘But you began by saying that something is a revolting business.’
‘The Martineaus’ butler and this village child your husband called me in to see. She’s prepared to name Friary as responsible, and there is evidence that her parents can give as well. So it will come into court. I ought to be hardened to such things, but I don’t seem to be.’
‘Dr Fell, do you think that, as the matter stood yesterday, it would have been rational in Friary to suppose that if the Martineaus were out of the way he would have a chance of not being prosecuted?’
‘Good heavens!’ Fell looked really startled. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. But I didn’t know there was a suspicion of just that sort. For that matter, I doubt whether the fellow Friary would have the guts for it. No – I think I’m a better suspect myself.’
‘I find that a strange thing for anyone actually to say.’
‘I had a meeting, you know, or what might be called a confrontation, with Martineau and his nephew. Over the drugs. Its issue was unsatisfactory, from my point of view.’
‘And from Bobby’s?’
‘Oh, certainly. Martineau penetrated to the fact that Bobby had actually been peddling the stuff, and he remained unconvinced that I wasn’t myself in some way involved.’
‘Were you?’ Judith had decided that this curious conversation had better be gone through with.
‘For what the denial is worth, Lady Appleby, quite definitely not. But – for reasons into which I needn’t enter – if some large scandal blew up in these parts I mightn’t get a fair spin.’
‘We know about that. So really, you feel, you and Bobby Angrave had substantial reason to conspire together to silence the Martineaus?’
‘I hadn’t thought of just that. But I see what you mean. If the Martineaus were both murdered, and if the circumstances were to prove such that there must have been two people on the job, then young Angrave and I would – to put it mildly – be well in the picture.’ Fell, who had produced this quite unemotionally, walked for a moment in silence. ‘But here is the belvedere,’ he said. ‘Do you know, I’ve never had a look inside? Would that constable let us in?’
‘I think he might. He knows me now. We’ll have a try.’
The constable made no objection. He contented himself with accompanying his visitors into the interior of the little building.
‘Colonel Morrison and my husband have already had a good hunt through the place,’ Judith said. ‘We came in together earlier this morning.’
‘Did you discover anything material?’
‘Did I? I’m afraid not – although I always have a feeling there ought to be something a woman’s eye can contribute.’ Judith looked around her. ‘For example, it’s a little dusty, wouldn’t you say? Friary claims to see that it is cleaned, and so forth. But the floor could certainly do with a mop. Look how–’ Judith broke off. ‘Dr Fell, will you move that gardener’s ladder so that it stands just there? With its two feet just on these marks, I mean.’
Fell did as he was told. The constable made an uneasy noise. Then, presumably recalling the exalted station of this lady’s husband, he fell silent again.
‘You see what I mean?’ Judith pointed. ‘It’s the ladder that has been drawn over the floor, and left these tracks.’
‘It looks,’ Fell said, ‘as if somebody had wanted to climb to the top of those cupboards.’
‘You’re quite right. And there might be anything up there, behind those rather elaborate cornices – if that’s what they should be called. I think I’ll go up and see.’ Judith looked at the cupboards more carefully. ‘What’s that cord,’ she asked, ‘running up the side of the far one?’
‘It’s an electric flex, my lady.’ The constable said this, after examination. ‘The telephone, perhaps. But no – it isn’t that.’ He had followed the flex downward, and was now moving a croquet-box away from the skirting-board. ‘It’s simply plugged into a socket down here. It may run to a lamp, I’d say, or it might be a small radiator, that somebody has stored up there.’
‘Well, we’ll see.’ Judith was already climbing. ‘Dr Fell, just steady it, will you? I don’t want to make a fool of myself.’
At this moment the constable came to a somewhat apprehensive attention. Colonel Morrison and Appleby had entered the belvedere. Judith, who had gained the position she wanted, turned round and looked down at them.
‘John,’ she said, ‘I’ve found something up here. You’ll never guess what.’
‘I certainly shall,’ Appleby said. ‘It’s a tape-recorder. Don’t touch it.’
It was half an hour before the tape-recorder was brought down from its place of concealment. It had to be photographed and tested for fingerprints first. At length it stood on a rustic table in front of Appleby.
‘We’ll run it back for a minute, for a start,’ Appleby said, ‘and then see what it offers us.’ He turned a couple of switches on the machine. Nothing happened. ‘Constable,’ he said, ‘switch it on down there by the skirting-board, will you?’
‘It’s switched on already, sir.’
‘Then there’s something wrong with it. And I doubt whether that makes sense.’ Appleby paused, frowning. ‘What have you got down there?’
‘A plug with its own fuse, sir. It’s on a modern thirteen-amp circuit.’
‘Try that reading-lamp in the corner.’
‘Yes, sir…it works, all right.’
‘Find a screwdriver, or whatever is needed, and change those plugs round.’
‘Very good, sir.’
This operation took five minutes. They were five minutes which added considerably to the tension of the proceedings. Fell, who had remained in the belvedere, paced it moodily. Colonel Morrison eyed him with disfavour, and would plainly have been pleased to order him out. Martine Rivière, who had appeared again, was reduced to sitting close to Judith, nervously twisting a handkerchief.
‘What’s it about?’ Martine almost whispered. ‘What does Sir John expect?’
‘I don’t know. I only know that he knows – and that it’s important.’
‘All in order, sir.’ The constable stood up. ‘You can try again.’
Appleby once more moved the switches. A tiny hum came at once from the machine, followed by the whir of the tape being fed back.
‘That’s all it was,’ Appleby said. ‘The fuse had blown. Careless. Odd.’
‘What’s that, Appleby?’ Morrison had moved forward. But Appleby raised an arresting finger; stopped the tape; set it moving again the opposite direction. And at once they were all listening to voices. They were listening to the voices of Charles and Grace Martineau.
The dialogue continued only for seconds. Appleby had switched off – with a decisive snap, and almost as if closing down upon premature disclosure.
‘There’s a little more to do,’ he said. ‘Not much. We’ll meet – everybody will meet – in half an hour’s time in the music room.’ He smiled rather grimly. ‘It’s the appropriate place.’
‘For somebody to be facing the music, eh?’ Colonel Morrison offered this suggestion uncertainly.
‘That, perhaps. And, of course, it’s a place dedicated to the educated ear.’
‘To the what, my dear fellow?’
‘And moreover’ – Appleby was unheeding – ‘it’s presided over by Christopher Sly.’