Free Speedy Death by Gladys Mitchell Page A

good-humouredly.
    ‘Have it your own way,’ he said. ‘I hope youwon’t be sorry; that is all. But I don’t imagine that the Chief Constable will be
able
to make an informal investigation. There is such a thing as his duty to be considered.’
    Alastair Bing snorted.
    In due course, but not until after lunch next day, the Chief Constable and the police doctor, a friend of the family, inspected the body and looked round the bathroom. Then, the doctor having concluded his examination, the men, superintended by Alastair, all descended the stairs, and passed into the library.
    ‘Well, doctor?’ said the Chief Constable, ‘what’s your opinion?’
    ‘Oh, death due to drowning, the same as my colleague pronounced. Incidentally, I should say there was no weakness of the heart.’
    ‘Is that absolutely certain?’
    ‘Well, there is no doubt at all in my mind.’
    ‘Thank you. Now, then, Mr Bing, where is the gentleman with the theories?’
    ‘Mr Carstairs? You’d like to see him?’
    ‘If you please.’
    Alastair rang the bell.
    ‘Ask Mr Carstairs please to step this way.’
    Carstairs was greeted with the official twinkle; he smiled in return, and seated himself.
    ‘Well, Mr Carstairs,’ said the Chief Constable, ‘would you mind explaining exactly your reasons for supposing Miss Mountjoy’s death to have been anything but an accidental one?’
    Carstairs put forth briefly and concisely, as hisscientific training suggested, his reasons, deductions, and conclusions, and the Chief Constable took notes.
    ‘Is this it, Mr Carstairs?’ he asked, and read the notes aloud.
    ‘That’s it, Sir Joseph.’
    ‘Hum!’ the great man glanced at him quizzically. ‘Mathematician, Mr Carstairs?’
    ‘A little of one, I suppose,’ Carstairs answered.
    ‘Ye-es. Um! Quite so. Who found the body?’
    ‘I did,’ answered Alastair Bing. ‘An unpleasant, undignified business.’
    ‘Were you alone?’
    ‘No. My son, Carstairs here, and a couple of servants were there too.’
    ‘Just recount the circumstances, will you?’
    ‘Well, we were at dinner——’
    ‘Time?’
    ‘About a quarter-past eight, I should think. Yes, about then.’
    ‘Thank you. Yes, you were at dinner. All of you?’
    ‘Well, of course, Mountjoy was not there, so we began without him—her.’
    ‘That did not strike you as unusual?’
    ‘What did not? Oh, that she was not there? No. She would get a working fit sometimes, and would not come down to meals. We never worried him—her—of course. Just sent up some food on a tray.’
    ‘Oh, she had been staying with you for some time?’
    ‘About six weeks. There was talk of an understanding between the dead person and my daughter. Of course, we all thought that Mountjoy was a man. Incidentally, I am anxious that the truth about Mountjoy’s sex be kept from the knowledge of my daughter.’
    ‘A man? Oh, yes, Mr Carstairs indicated that the deceased had masqueraded as a man. Did no one suspect the truth about her sex?’
    ‘I think not. In fact, I am sure nobody did. We had always—I mean it would never have occurred to any of us——’
    ‘No, I suppose not. Quite so. And your daughter? She never suspected either?’
    ‘Oh no. Surely not. She is a very quiet, modest girl. The whole affair must be a very great shock to her.’
    ‘Undoubtedly. Indeed, yes. Well, now, you were all at dinner except Mountjoy. What happened next?’
    ‘The butler came and spoke to me. He said Mountjoy was still in the bathroom. That his man had knocked and could obtain no answer.’
    ‘His man?’
    ‘Well, that is to say, he is my man really, but I lend him to any men guests who don’t bring their personal servants.’
    ‘Oh, so he valeted Mountjoy?’
    ‘Well, no. Mountjoy never required much assistance. The man would lay out a clean shirt, perhaps, and place the suit ready for her to dress, and turn bath-taps on, and so forth, but he wasnever required to render the more personal services. Of course, that