The Fashion In Shrouds by Margery Allingham Read Free Book Online Page B

It was in ribbed silk. I couldn’t take my eyes offit.’ She put an arm round Val’s shoulders. ‘You poor sweet,’ she said.
    Val released herself gently and turned to Rex.
    â€˜Who is that woman’s
couturier
?’
    â€˜Ring her up.’ Ramillies made the outrageously impolitic suggestion with all the vigorous irresponsibility which turned him into such a peculiarly disturbing element. ‘Say you’re a magazine. Georgia, you do it . . . or will I. Shall I?’
    â€˜No, darling, of course not. Don’t be an ass.’ Georgia had spoken casually and he turned to her.
    â€˜Ass be damned!’ he exploded with a violence which startled everyone. ‘It’s the only intelligent suggestion that’s been put forward so far. What’s the woman’s name? She’ll be in the book, I suppose?’
    His fury was so entirely unexpected that for a moment the main disaster was forgotten. Campion stared at him in astonishment. His thin jaws were clenched and the little pulses in them throbbed visibly. The reaction was so entirely out of proportion to the occurrence that Campion was inclined to suspect that the man was drunk after all, when he caught a glimpse of Ferdie Paul. Both he and Georgia were eyeing Ramillies with definite apprehension.
    â€˜Wait a moment, old boy.’ Paul sounded cautious. ‘You never know. We may be able to pin it down here.’
    â€˜You may in an hour or so of fooling about.’ Ramillies’s contempt was bitter. ‘But that’s the straightforward, elementary way of finding a thing out . . . ask.’
    â€˜Just one little moment,’ murmured Tante Marthe over her shoulder. ‘This is not a thing that has never happened before.’
    Ramillies shrugged his shoulders. ‘As you please. But I still think the intelligent thing to do is to get on the phone to the woman. Tell her all about it if you must. But if I was doing it myself I should say I was a magazine and get it out of her that way. However, it’s nothing to do with me, thank God.’
    He swung on his heel and made for the door.
    â€˜Ray, where are you going?’ Georgia still sounded apprehensive.
    He paused on the threshold and regarded her with cold dislike which was uncomfortably convincing.
    â€˜I’m simply going downstairs to see if they’ve got a telephone book,’ he said and went out.
    Val glanced at Georgia, a startled question in her eyes, but it was Ferdie Paul who answered her.
    â€˜Oh no, that’s all right. He won’t phone,’ he said, and looked across at the small boy, who nodded reassuringly and, sliding off his chair, passed unobtrusively out of the room. It was an odd incident and Dell glanced at Campion.
    â€˜Astonishing chap,’ he said under his breath and regarded Georgia with increased interest.
    Meanwhile Rex, who had been permitted to get a word in at last, was talking earnestly to Tante Marthe. He had a nervous habit of wriggling ingratiatingly and now, all the time he was talking, he seemed to be making surreptitious attempts to stroke his calves by leaning over backwards to get at them. But his observations were to the point.
    â€˜I know Leonard Lôke used to dress her,’ he said, ‘and if the design has gone there of course it means it’ll be turned over to the worst kind of wholesalers and produced by the hundred. It’s a tragedy.’
    â€˜The Premier who made it, the vendeuse, Mrs Saluski, the child in the fitting-room, you, myself, and Val,’ murmured Lady Papendeik, shooting her little lizard head up. ‘No one else saw the finished dress. The sketch was never completed. Val cut it on the living model.’
    Rex straightened.
    â€˜Wait,’ he said in an altered voice. ‘I’ve remembered. Leonard Lôke is two partners, Pretzger and Morris. Pretzger had a brother-in-law in the fur trade. You may remember him, Madame; we’ve dealt with