Free Vintage Murder by Ngaio Marsh Page A

like an accident and less like homicide.”
    Alleyn pulled in the rope and rasped it above the weight.
    “Nothing like heavy enough,” he said. “It must have been one of the big ones. Well — that’s that. Are we staying aloft, Inspector?”
    “I think we’ll go down now, sir. I’ll send Cass up to collect the stuff here. It’ll need careful handling, and I think had better be done by daylight. I’ll leave a man here, of course. Ye-ees.”
    Footsteps sounded on the stage below, and voices. They looked down and had a bird’s-eye view of a little procession. The police constable, whom Wade had left mounting guard over Meyer’s body, opened the door in the box set. Through it came Dr. Tancred, Dr. Te Pokiha, and two men with a stretcher. The stretcher was laid on the stage. Tancred looked up into the grid, his hand over his eyes.
    “You up there, Inspector?” he called.
    “Here I am, doctor.”
    “All right if we move the body?”
    “Has Cass got his photos O.K.?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good-oh, then, doctor.”
    They lifted the terrible head. Tancred and Te Pokiha examined it again. It lolled back and seemed to stare up to where the two men watched from above. Pieces of fern were stuck on the face, and it was cut with glass from the broken lights. Te Pokiha brushed the fern away. They hauled the body up from the chair. It seemed to be very heavy. At last they got it on the stretcher and covered it
    “All right,” said Tancred.
    They carried Meyer away, the policeman holding the door open. Te Pokiha remained behind,
    “Well, we may as well go down,” said Wade.
    Alleyn did not answer. Wade turned to look at him. He was in the act of stooping. His long fingers reached for something that lay between two of the steel slats at his feet. His fingers edged at this little object, coaxed it up, and grasped it. He straightened, glanced down beneath him to where Te Pokiha stood, and then made a slight gesture of warning.
    “What’s up?” asked Wade softly.
    Alleyn stretched out his hand into the light. On the palm lay a small green object of a singular shape. Its head lolled over to one side and it seemed to be grinning.
    “Are you coming down?” called Te Pokiha from the stage.

Chapter VII
WARDROBE-ROOM MUSTER
    “It’s a tiki,” said Wade.
    “Yes. May be of some importance. Wait a moment.”
    Alleyn pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dropped the tiki on it and folded it over carefully.
    “There you are, Inspector. I’ll give you the history when we get down. In the meantime, if I may make a suggestion, keep it under your hat.”
    They climbed down the O.P. ladder to the stage. Te Pokiha waited for them.
    “If you’ve no further use for me, Mr. Wade, I think I’ll clear out,” he said. “It’s one o’clock.
    “Right-oh, then, doctor,” agreed Wade. “Well want you for the inquest.”
    “I suppose so.” He turned to Alleyn. “I had no idea you were the famous Roderick Alleyn,” he said in his warm voice. “It’s strange that this should be your introduction to New Zealand. I have read—”
    “Have you?” said Alleyn quickly. “I’m supposed to be on a holiday for my health. And by the way, I particularly
don’t
want my identity made public. As far as this affair goes, I’m a layman, Dr. Te Pokiha. Inspector Wade very kindly allowed me to have a look at the pulley up there.”
    “Has it been interfered with?” asked Te Pokiha.
    “We’re going to make a thorough examination by daylight, doctor,” said Wade. “I’ll just see these other people now.”
    Te Pokiha’s dark eyes gleamed in his dark face.
    “I’ll wish you good night, then. Good night, Mr. Alleyn. You seemed to be interested in my people. If you would care to come and see me while you are here—”
    “I should be delighted,” said Alleyn cordially.
    “Dinner to-morrow? Splendid. It’s not far out. Twenty miles. I’ll call for you at six.”
    Alleyn shook the thin brown hand that Te Pokiha extended, and watched