Have His Carcase

‘You probably couldn’t expect her to identify him without his dark hair and glasses,’ said Wimsey. ‘It’s astonishing what a difference it makes having the eyes concealed. You could make him put the spectacles on, of course, or you could bring her over and get him to identify her. I’ll tell you what. Ring up again and ask if she can come over here now. I’ll get hold of Weldon and park him out on the verandah of the Resplendent, and you can fetch her along casually. If he spots her, all’s well; if she spots him, we may feel differently about it.’

‘I, see,’ said Glaisher. ‘That’s not a bad idea. We’ll do that.’ He rang up Heathbury Vicarage and spoke again.

‘It’s all right; she’s coming.’

‘Good. I’ll toddle round and try to detach Weldon from his mamma. If she’s present at the interview the good Henry will be in the soup. If I can’t get him, I’ll ring you.’

Henry Weldon was readily found in the lounge. He was having tea with his mother, but, excused himself when Wimsey came up and asked for a word in private. They selected a table about-half-way along the verandah, and Weldon ordered drinks, while Wimsey embarked on a rather verbose account of his interview with the police that morning. He harped a good deal on the trouble he had

taken to persuade Glaisher not to let the story come to Mrs Weldon’s ears, and Henry expressed a proper sense of gratitude.

Presently a burly figure made his appearance, looking exactly like a police-constable out of uniform, and escorting a rather young-old lady; dressed, in the extreme of fashion. They passed slowly along the verandah, which was well filled with people, making for an empty table at the far end. Wimsey watched the lady’s glance roam over the assembly; it rested on him, passed on to Weldon and, then, without a pause or sign of recognition, to a young man in blue glasses who was toying. with a chocolate sundae at the next table. Here it paused for a moment — then it moved on again. At the same time Weldon gave quite a convulsive start.

‘I beg your pardon,’ said Wimsey, breaking off short in his monologue., ‘Did you speak?’

‘I — er — no,’ said Weldon. ‘I thought I recognised somebody, that’s all. Probably a chance resemblance.’ He followed Mrs Morecambe with his eyes as she approached them, and raised a tentative hand to his hat.

Mrs Morecambe saw the movement and looked at Weldon, with a faint expression of puzzlement. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but shut it again. Weldon completed the hat-raising gesture and stood up.

‘Good afternoon,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid you don’t—’

Mrs Morecambe stared with polite surprise.

‘Surely I’m not mistaken,’ said Weldon. ‘You were good enough to give me a lift the other day’

‘Did I?’ said Mrs Morecambe. She looked more closely and said.

‘Yes, I believe I did — but weren’t you wearing dark glasses that day?’

‘I was it makes rather a difference, doesn’t it?’

‘I really shouldn’t have known you. But I recognise your voice now. Only I had an idea — But there! I’m not very observant. I earned away an impression that you were quite dark. Probably the glasses put it into my head. So stupid of me I hope the Morgan has recovered itself.’

‘Oh, yes, thanks. Fancy — meeting you here. The world’s a small place, isn’t it?’

‘Very. I hope you are having an enjoyable holiday.’

‘Oh, very much so, thanks — now that my car is. Behaving itself again. I’m tremendously grateful for you for having taken compassion on me that day.’

Not at all; it was a pleasure.’

Mrs Morecambe bowed politely and moved away with her companion. Wimsey grinned.

‘So that was your attractive lady. Well, well. You’re.a gay dog, Weldon. Young or old, they all go down before you, spectacles or no spectacles.’

‘Chuck it!’ said Henry, not displeased. ‘Lucky thing her turning up like that, wasn’t it?’

‘Remarkably so,’ said Wimsey.

.’Don’t like the hick she’s got with her, though,’ pursued, Henry. ‘One of the local turnip-heads, I suppose.’

Wimsey grinned again. Could anybody be as slow-witted as.Henry made himself out?

‘I ought to have tried to find out who she was,’ said Henry, ‘but I thought it would look a bit pointed. Still, I daresay they’ll be able to trace her, won’t they? It’s rather important to me, you know.’

‘Yes, it is, isn’t it? Very good-looking and well-off, too, from the looks of her. I congratulate you, Weldon. Shall I, try and trace her for you? I’m a most skilful go-between and an accomplished gooseberry.’

‘Don’t be an ass, Wimsey. She’s my alibi, you idiot.’

‘So she is! Well, here goes!’

Wimsey slipped away, chuckling to himself.

‘Well, that’s all right,’ said Glaisher, when all this was reported to him. ‘We’ve got the lady taped now all, right. She’s the daughter of an old school-friend of Mrs Trevor’s and stays with them every summer. Been at Heathbury for the last three weeks. Husband’s something in the City, sometimes joins her for weekends, but hasn’t been here this summer. Lunch and tennis at Colonel Cranton’s all correct. No funny business there. Weldon’s all right.’