Troy said: ‘She knew you minded about things like that.’
‘Of course I do. I’m the last of the howling snobs. But – Moult? Moult! Her papa!’
‘She didn’t know,’ Alleyn said, ‘about Moult.’
Hilary pounced: ‘When did she find out?’ he snapped. ‘Or did she? Has she – has she – confessed?’
‘She’s said enough,’ Alleyn said sparsely. And as Hilary stared at him: ‘She knew that documents relating to her parentage were in the uniform case. The colonel told her so when he said that you should know of her background. When she thought that the colonel was downstairs in the cloakroom waiting for her and when everybody else had assembled for the tree, she tried to break into the case with the dressing-room poker. Moult, who had been showing himself to the colonel in his robe and wig, returned to the dressing-room and caught her in the act. Climax. He’d taken a lot to drink, he was excited and he told her. The bells had started up downstairs, he looked out of the window for Vincent and she hit him with the poker.’
‘Unpremeditated, then,’ Hilary said quickly. ‘Not planned? A kind of reflex thing? Yes?’
‘You may say so.’
‘At least one may be glad of that. And no designs upon poorest Uncle Flea. Thank heaven for that.’
Alleyn said nothing. There would not, he believed, be cause to produce the evidence of the wedge in the colonel’s window sash nor of the concealment of his tablets.
‘The defence,’ he said, ‘will probably seek to have the charge reduced to one of manslaughter.’
‘How long –?’
‘Difficult to say. She may get off.’
Hilary looked alarmed.
‘But not altogether, I fancy,’ said Alleyn.
‘You might almost say,’ Hilary ventured after a pause, ‘that my poor creatures, Vincent and Co., collaborated.’
‘In a way, I suppose you might.’
‘Yes,’ Hilary said in a hurry, ‘but it’s one thing to staff one’s house with – er “oncers” but quite another to –’ He stopped short and turned rather pink.
‘I think we should be off, Rory,’ said Troy.
Hilary was effusive in thanks, exclamations about his portrait, apologies and expressions of goodwill.
As they drove away in the thin sunshine he stood, manorially, on the steps of the great porch. Mervyn and Cuthbert, having assisted with the luggage, were in the offing. At the last moment Hilary was joined by Mr Smith and the Forresters. Troy waved to them.
‘We might be going away from a jolly weekend party,’ she said.
‘Do you know,’ her husband asked, ‘what Hilary nearly said?’
‘What?’
‘That when she comes out she’ll qualify for a job at Halberds. Not quite the one envisaged. Parlour-maid perhaps. With perks.’
‘Rory!’
‘I bet you anything you like,’ said Alleyn.
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Also by the Author
A Man Lay Dead
Enter a Murderer
The Nursing Home Murder
Death in Ecstasy
Vintage Murder
Artists in Crime
Death in a White Tie
Overture to Death
Death at the Bar
Surfeit of Lampreys
Death and the Dancing Footman
Colour Scheme
Died in the Wool
Final Curtain
Swing, Brother, Swing
Opening Night
Spinsters in Jeopardy
Scales of Justice
Off With His Head
Singing in the Shrouds
False Scent
Hand in Glove
Dead Water
Clutch of Constables
When in Rome
Tied up in Tinsel
Black As He’s Painted
Last Ditch
Grave Mistake
Photo-Finish
Light Thickens
Black Beech and Honeydew (autobiography)
Copyright
HARPER
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Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2009
Copyright © Ngaio Marsh Ltd 1971
Ngaio Marsh asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Tied Up In Tinsel first published in Great Britain by Collins 1972
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Source ISBN: 9780006512271
Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2010 ISBN: 9780007344826
Version: 2014-06-20
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