Free Speedy Death by Gladys Mitchell Page B

is all quite comprehensible now.’
    ‘Yes, yes. The sex business, of course. I should like to see that man a moment, if I may.’
    Alastair rang the bell.
    ‘Ask Parsons to step this way a moment.’
    Two minutes later the quiet, pale valet stood in the doorway.
    ‘You sent for me, sir?’ he asked, addressing Alastair Bing.
    ‘Sit down,’ said his employer, pointing to a chair.
    The man closed the door noiselessly, and then did as he was asked to.
    ‘Attend to the Chief Constable, Parsons, and answer him as clearly as you can,’ said Alastair magisterially.
    ‘Very good, sir.’ The man cleared his throat in an embarrassed way.
    ‘Parsons,’ began Sir Joseph, consulting his notes, ‘you remember turning on the bath-taps for Mr Mountjoy on the evening of his death, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Did you turn on both taps at once?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    ‘The hot tap?’
    ‘At first, sir. I then tested the temperature of the water with a bath thermometer, and reduced the heat, by means of the cold tap, to the number of degrees specified by Mr Mountjoy, who was very particular in such matters.’
    ‘Ah! Now you wouldn’t remember, I suppose, exactly how high up the bath the level of the water was when you had finished your elaborate preparations, would you?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Splendid!’ said the Chief Constable, pushing his chair back from the table. ‘Well, come up with me and show me, will you?’
    ‘Very good, sir.’
    The man looked at Alastair Bing, was reassured by a nod, and, opening the door for the four men, for the doctor came too, he followed them out, and closed the door noiselessly behind him.
    ‘Now, then,’ began Sir Joseph, when they reached the fatal bathroom, ‘how far up did the water reach?’
    Parsons, without moving a muscle of his face, put his finger on a spot about nine inches from the top of the bath.
    The Chief Constable took out a folding pocket-ruler, and gravely measured the distance.
    ‘Nine point three inches down,’ he observed. ‘Do you note that, Brenner?’ he went on, turning to the doctor, who nodded in his bored way.
    ‘But look here!’ Carstairs was nearly dancing with excitement.
    The Chief Constable smiled paternally.
    ‘Just a minute, Mr Carstairs,’ he said, and turned again to the man Parsons.
    ‘Parsons,’ he continued, ‘wouldn’t it surprise you very much to hear that Mr Mountjoy was no man, but a woman?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    ‘Oh? Why not?’
    ‘It has been common talk in the servants’ hall, sir, since the poor’—he paused for a fraction of a second—‘the poor gentleman’s death, sir.’
    ‘Hum! All right. That’s all I want you for at present.’
    ‘Thank you, sir.’
    The man glanced at Alastair Bing, received the usual nod, and slipped unobtrusively away.
    ‘A model witness,’ said the Chief Constable gravely. ‘Let us go downstairs, gentlemen.’
    ‘Just a moment, though,’ cried Carstairs, unable to contain himself any longer.
    ‘Ah, yes, Mr Carstairs. You wanted to say something. I am sorry I interrupted you before, but I thought it better not to say too much in front of Parsons, discreet fellow though I believe him to be.’
    ‘Oh, don’t apologize,’ said Carstairs, laughing. ‘I ought to possess more self-control. But, you know, he was quite wrong about the level of the water.’
    ‘Was he?’ The Chief Constable chuckled delightedly.
    ‘Hopelessly out. The water came right up to the overflow pipe. That’s at least three inches higher than he said.’
    The Chief Constable produced his ruler again, and solemnly measured.
    ‘To the bottom of these holes, five point one inches down,’ he declared. ‘Got that, Brenner?’ The doctor nodded.
    ‘Let us go downstairs,’ said Sir Joseph. ‘This becomes interesting.’
    ‘Well,’ said Alastair Bing, when the four of them were again seated in the library.
    ‘Well, now,’ said the Chief Constable, ‘these water-levels. Very interesting, as I say, unless