IV
Giggle’s arrival coincided with Mr. Rattisbon’s departure. He was brought in by Mr. Fox. The stolid indifference of the previous night had deserted him. He was very pale and seemed to make no attempt to conceal his obvious alarm. Evidently, thought Alleyn, his morning’s interview with Fox had shaken him. He stood to attention turning his chauffeur’s cap around in his hands, and staring with signs of the liveliest distrust at Mr. Fox.
“Now then, Giggle,” Alleyn said, “there’s no need to worry, you know, if you’ve given us a straight-forward account of yourself.”
“I have so, sir. I’ve told the truth, sir, so help me. I wasn’t there, sir, honest I wasn’t. Master Michael will bear me out, sir. He saw me go downstairs, and they say they heard his lordship sing out after I’d gone, sir.”
“All right. We only want the facts, you know. If you’ve given us the facts you’ve nothing to worry about.”
“If I might ask, sir, has Master Michael spoken for me?”
“Yes, he has. He says he saw you go down.”
Giggle wiped his hand across his mouth. “Thank God! I beg your pardon, sir, but young gentlemen of his age don’t always notice much, and I’ve been that worried.”
“We’ve asked you to come here this morning,” Alleyn said, “to see if you can give us any further information.”
“I will if I can, sir, but I don’t know a thing. I’ve got nothing to do with it. I never wished his lordship dead. His lordship always treated me fair enough.”