Spinsters in Jeopardy by Ngaio Marsh Read Free Book Online Page A

smile. “I think, perhaps, I’ll have a look at Miss Truebody,” she added.
    He grimaced at her and walked out quickly.
    Troy went to Ricky. She touched his forehead and found it moist. His sleep was profound and when she opened the front of his shirt he did not stir. She stayed, lightly swinging the seat, and watched him, and she thought with tenderness that he was her defense in a stupid situation which fatigue and a confusion of spirit, brought about by many untoward events, had perhaps created in her imagination. It was ridiculous, she thought, to feel anything but amused by her embarrassment. She knew that Baradi watched her and she turned and faced him.
    “If there is anything I can do before I go,” she said and kept her voice down because of Ricky, “I hope you’ll tell me.”
    It was a mistake to speak softly. He at once moved towards her and, with an assumption of intimacy, lowered his own voice. “But how helpful!” he said. “So we shall have you with us for a little longer? That is good: though it should not be to perform these unlovely tasks.”
    “I hope I’m equal to them.” She moved away from Ricky and raised her voice. “What are they?”
    “She must be prepared for the operation.”
    He told her what should be done and explained that she would find everything she needed for her purpose in Miss Truebody’s bathroom. In giving these specifically clinical instructions, he reverted to his professional manner, but with an air of amusement that she found distasteful. When he had finished she said: “Then I’ll get her fixed now, shall I?”
    “Yes,” he agreed, more to himself than to her. “Yes, certainly, we shouldn’t delay too long.” And seeing a look of preoccupation and responsibility on his face, she left him, disliking him less in that one moment than at any time since they had met. As she went down the stone stairway she thought: “Thank heaven, at least, for the Queen of Sheba.”
     
    ii
    Alleyn found their driver in his vest and trousers on the running-board of the car. A medallion of St. Christopher dangled from a steel chain above the mat of hair on his chest. He was exchanging improper jokes with a young woman and two small boys, who, when he rose to salute his employer, drifted away without embarrassment. He gave Alleyn a look that implied a common understanding of women, and opened the car door.
    Alleyn said: “We’re not going yet. What is your name?”
    “Raoul, Monsieur. Raoul Milano.”
    “You’ve been a soldier, perhaps?”
    “Yes, Monsieur. I am thirty-three and therefore I have seen some service.”
    “So your stomach is not easily outraged, then; by a show of blood, for instance? By a formidable wound, shall we say?”
    “I was a medical orderly, Monsieur. My stomach also is an old campaigner.”
    “Excellent! I have a job for you, Raoul. It is to assist Dr. Baradi, the gentleman you have already seen. He is about to remove Mademoiselle’s appendix and since we cannot find a second doctor, we must provide unqualified assistants. If you will help us there may be a little reward and certainly there will be much grace in performing this service. What do you say?”
    Raoul looked down at his blunt hands and then up at Alleyn: “I say yes, M’sieur. As you suggest, it is an act of grace and in any case one may as well do something.”
    “Good. Come along, then.” Alleyn had found Troy’s sunglasses. He and Raoul turned towards the passage, Raoul slinging his coat across his shoulders with the grace of a ballet dancer.
    “So you live down in Roqueville?” Alleyn asked.
    “In Roqueville, M’sieur. My parents have a little café, not at all smart, but the food is good and I also hire myself out in my car, as you see.”
    “You’ve been up to the château before, of course?”
    “Certainly. For little expeditions and also to drive guests and sometimes tourists. As a rule Mr. Oberon sends a car for his guests.” He waved a hand at a row of