Chapters (14)
‘A white linen dress with a square neck and a leather belt. Brown Italian shoes with large buckles. Brown suede gloves. A wide stringcoloured straw hat with a brown velvet ribbon. A brown leather bag. No jewellery.’
‘You win,’ said Mrs Barrimore. ‘You don’t look like the sort of man who notices but I suppose it’s part of your training and I shouldn’t feel flattered. Or should I?’
‘I would like you to feel flattered. And now I’m going to ruin my success by telling you that Mrs Carstairs, too, wore a linen dress, this morning.’ He described it. She listened to this talk about clothes as if it was a serious matter.
‘White?’ she asked.
‘No. Green.’
‘O yes. That one.’
‘Was it originally yours?’
‘If it’s the one I think it is, yes.’
‘When did you give it to her?’
‘I don’t in the least remember.’
‘Well: as long as two years ago?’
‘Really, I’ve no idea.’
‘Try.’
‘But I don’t remember. One doesn’t remember. I’ve given her odd things from time to time. You make me feel as if I’m parading – as if I’m making a lot of it. As if it was charity. Or patronage. It was nothing. Women do those sorts of things.’
‘I wouldn’t press it if I didn’t think it might be relevant.’
‘How can it be of the slightest interest?’
‘A green dress? If she had it two years ago? Think.’
She was on her feet with a quick controlled movement.
‘But that’s nonsense! You mean – Wally?’
‘Yes. I do. The Green Lady.’
‘But – most people have always thought he imagined her. And even if he didn’t – there are lots of green dresses in the summer-time.’
‘Of course. What I’m trying to find out is whether this was one of them. Is there nothing that would call to mind when you gave it to her?’
She waited for a moment, looking down at her hands.
‘Nothing. It was over a year ago, I’m sure.’ She turned aside. ‘Even if I could remember, which I can’t, I don’t think I would want to tell you. It can’t have any bearing on this ghastly business – how could it? – and suppose you’re right, it’s private to Dulcie Carstairs.’
‘Perhaps she’d remember.’
‘I don’t believe it. I don’t for a moment believe she would think of playing a – a fantastic trick like that. It’s not like her. She was never the Green Lady.’
‘I haven’t suggested she was, you know.’ Alleyn walked over to her. She lifted her head and looked at him. Her face was ashen.
‘Come,’ he said, ‘don’t let us fence any more. You were the Green Lady, weren’t you?’