The Inspector, who had been confronted with condescension in Roydon, hostility in Paula, now encountered, as Sturry majestically advanced into the morning-room, a lofty disdain which would have caused a more sensitive soul to shrink.
"You rang, Inspector?" said Sturry, conveying a suggestion of astonishment.
The Inspector felt in a vague way that he had committed a solecism, but he was strong in the consciousness of his duty, and he replied firmly: "Yes, I rang. I want to ask you a few questions. Is your name Albert Sturry?"
"My name, Inspector, is Albert Reginald Sturry."
The Inspector repressed an impulse to beg his pardon, and wrote the name in his notebook. "You are employed here as butler?"
"I have served Mr. Herriard in that capacity for four years and seven months," replied Sturry. "Previous to that, I was with the late Sir Barnabas Lancing, of Lancing Towers, and Upper Eaton Place."
The Inspector made a note of this, but wisely thrust Sir Barnabas into the background. He said: "Now, what do you know about this business?"
The arctic light in Sturry's eye plainly informed him that if he imagined he could address a respectable butler in this fashion he would find himself much mistaken. "I regret that I am unable to assist you," said Sturry. "It being no part of my duties to pry into the affairs of my employers."
The Inspector perceived that he had taken a false step. He said: "Naturally not, but a man in your position is bound to know the ins and outs of a house."
Sturry acknowledged this tribute by a slight bow, and waited.
"By all accounts the deceased was a difficult man to get on with, eh?"
"I experienced no difficulty, Inspector. Mr. Herriard had his idiosyncrasies, no doubt. Latterly his temper became impaired by rheumatic complaints, as was understandable."
"Made him quarrelsome?"
"I would not go so far as to ascribe the distressing quarrels which have taken place under this roof wholly to Mr. Herriard's lumbago," said Sturry.
It became clear to the Inspector that the butler was big with news. It was equally clear that while he had a human desire to impart his news, he was mindful of what was due to his dignity, and must be handled with tact and respect. "Ah!" the Inspector said, nodding. "And I daresay you knew him as well as anyone. Stands to reason, being in your position, and with him over four years."
"I believe Mr. Herriard had no reason to be dissatisfied with me," conceded Sturry, unbending a little. "It has been my endeavour to fulfil my functions to the best of my ability, whatever the behaviour of certain of Mr. Herriard's guests."
"Must have been difficult for you, I daresay."
"Not so much difficult as distasteful," said Sturry, putting him in his place again. "Accustomed as I have been for thirty-five years to serving in the best families - for I commenced as under-footman to the late Earl of Belford, when I was hardly more than a Lad - there have been Incidents at Lexham Manor which I could only deplore."
The Inspector made a tut-tutting noise, and tried to look sympathetic.
"I need scarcely say," added Sturry, "that I shall be giving notice at the earliest opportunity."
"You know your own business best, but the house is likely to be kept on, isn't it? There's bound to be an heir."
"I should not care," said Sturry, with a quiver of disgust, "to demean myself by remaining in any house where a murder had been committed. It is not what I am accustomed to. It is impossible to imagine such an occurrence taking place under the late Earl's roof, or, indeed (though the baronetcy was of quite recent creation) under the roof of the late Sir Barnabas." He drew in his breath through his teeth. "Nor, I may add, would it suit me to take a post either in Mr. Joseph Herriard's household, or in Mr. Stephen Herriard's."
"Oh?" said the Inspector, deeply interested, and trying not to show it. "Not your money, eh?"
This vulgarity brought a look of pain to Sturry's countenance, but being by this time launched on the cumulative tide of his disclosures, he decided to overlook it. "Mr. Joseph Herriard is a very well-meaning gentleman," he said, "but the Peculiar Circumstances of his life have made him, I regret to say, forgetful of his dignity. He is Familiar with the Staff."
The Inspector nodded feelingly. "I know what you mean. What about the young one? Cross-grained looking chap, I thought."
"Mr. Stephen Herriard," said Sturry, "is not a gentleman with whom I could ever contemplate taking service. Mr. Stephen's temper is quite as violent as his late uncle's, and although I would not wish to imply that he is not Quite the Gentleman, he is careless of appearances to a degree which I could not bring myself to overlook. He has, moreover, become engaged to a young lady who will not, in my opinion, Do for Lexham Manor." He paused, fixing the Inspector with a basilisk eye. "I could not, in any case, reconcile it with my conscience to serve any gentleman who had been on such inimical terms with the late Mr. Herriard," he said.
Here it comes at last! thought the Inspector. "I'd heard that they quarrelled a good bit," he said. "Bad, was it?"
Sturry closed his eyes for an expressive moment. "At times, Inspector, it has been what I should call Shocking, both Mr. Stephen and Mr. Herriard raising their voices in a manner very unbecoming to their stations, and not caring who might be within hearing. Indeed, upon one occasion Mr. Stephen had Words with his uncle in front of the Tweeny."
The enormity of this did not, perhaps, impress the Inspector as forcibly as it was meant to, but he looked shocked, and said he wondered why Stephen came to Lexham so often.
"If you were to ask me, Inspector," said Sturry, "I should say that both Mr. Stephen and Miss Paula came for what they could get out of the late Mr. Herriard."
"Is Stephen Herriard the heir?"
"That, Inspector, I could not take it upon myself to say, not being in the late Mr. Herriard's confidence. It is generally believed in the Hall that he is, Mr. Herriard having had an unaccountable fondness for him. But there has been a good deal of unpleasantness lately over Mr. Stephen's Unfortunate Entanglement, Mr. Herriard having taken exception to Miss Dean in a way one cannot wonder at. There was Quite a Scene between them after lunch."
"About Miss Dean?"
"I could not say, I am sure," said Sturry primly. "But when I was about to enter the drawing-room this evening with the cocktail-tray, I heard Mr. Herriard shout at Mr. Stephen that he was quite as bad as his sister, and that it was the last time either of them should come to Lexham'
"Is that so?" said the Inspector, very much on the alert. "He was quarrelling with Miss Herriard too, was he?"
"Mr. Herriard was in general very indulgent with Miss Paula," said Sturry. "Though I have reason to believe that he looked with disfavour upon her connection with the stage. But Miss Paula most regrettably brought down with her to spend Christmas a Person of the name of Roydon."
The Inspector knew what this method of referring to Roydon implied, and was inclined to sympathise with Sturry. "He didn't like Roydon?"
"I gathered, Inspector," said Sturry grandly, "that he considered Miss Paula's friendship with the young man Unsuitable."
"I could see he wasn't out of the top-drawer."
"Mr. Roydon," said Sturry, with impressive reserve, "is a very estimable young man, I am sure, but he is Out of Place in an establishment where eight indoor servants are employed."
The Inspector's sympathy veered momentarily towards Roydon. "I understand he wanted the deceased to put up some money for a play, or something?"
"That, Inspector, was Miss Paula's object in bringing him to Lexham. Two thousand pounds was the figure I heard her name to Mr. Herriard."
"That's a lot of money," said the Inspector.
"It would seem so to some, no doubt," said Sturry, in an odiously patronising way. "Miss Paula referred to it as Paltry."
"I take it that Mr. Herriard refused to let her have it?"
"Mr. Herriard, Inspector, said that Miss Paula should have none of his money to waste on Mr. Roydon. To which Miss Paula replied that when he was dead she would spend every penny he left her on Immoral Plays."
The Inspector was shocked. "That's a nice way to talk!" he exclaimed.
"Miss Paula," said Sturry forbearingly, "is not one to Mince Matters."
"What did Mr. Herriard have to say to that?"
"Mr. Herriard said that she had better not count her chickens before they were hatched, since he would possibly be Making a Few Changes."
"Oh, he spoke of changing his will, did he? How did the young lady take that?"
"Being, as one might say, in a Passion, Miss Paula said that she did not care, and did not want Mr. Herriard's money. Mr. Herriard then said that he thought that that was just what she did want, two thousand pounds of it." He paused for his final effect. "'And ready to murder me to get it!" Mr. Herriard said."
"He actually used those words?" demanded the Inspector.
"Those were his very words," replied Sturry solemnly, "I heard him with my own ears, being, as I have informed you, Upon the Point of bringing in the cocktails."
He fixed the Inspector with a glassy stare as he spoke. The Inspector, reading the message thus haughtily conveyed to him, quite understood that the butler had stood with his ear to the door during this painful altercation, and had no intention of admitting it. He nodded his comprehension, and asked: "Was it then that Mr. Herriard said that Mr. Stephen was as bad as his sister?"
"Immediately consequent upon Mr. Stephen's refusing to support his sister," said Sturry.
"Oh, he didn't support her?" said the Inspector, like a terrier with its nose to a rat-hole.
"Somewhat to my surprise, Inspector, no," Sturry replied. "Mr. Herriard, who was by that time in Quite a Taking, then turned on Mr. Stephen, if I may be permitted to use the expression."
"What happened next?"
"I could not say," answered Sturry, with a return to his cold reserve. "Following my entrance into the drawingroom, Mr. Stephen left it."
"And Mr. Herriard had told him that he wouldn't have him here any more?"
"That was what Mr. Herriard said."
"Had he said that before at any time?"
"Never, Inspector, to my knowledge. Quite remarkable it was, the way he put up with Mr. Stephen. It has been, I may say, a Wonder to us in the Hall."
The Inspector looked at him for a reflective moment. "Where were you between the time the deceased went upstairs and the time he was discovered dead in his room?"
"I was occupied about my Duties," replied Sturry, "between the dining-room and My Pantry."
"Did you see any of the guests during that period?"
"No, Inspector, but I have reason to believe that Mr. Herriard's valet and the second-housemaid can give you some information on this point."
"Well, you can send them in," said the Inspector. "I'll see the valet first. Has he been here long?"
"Only a matter of a few months," Sturry replied. "It was nott customary for the late Mr. Herriard's personal servants to remain long in his employment."
"Difficult master?"
"Mr. Herriard was very particular, and not, I regret to say, above throwing his shoes, or, upon occasion, even weightier articles at his valet, when his rheumatic complaints troubled him. Modern servants, as no doubt you are aware, do not Hold with that sort of thing."
"Doesn't seem to have bothered you," remarked the Inspector humorously.
"I need hardly say," said Sturry coldly, "that the late Mr. Herriard never so demeaned himself with Me."
He then withdrew in a very stately manner, softly closing the door behind him.
Ford, who, in a few minutes, presented himself, was looking a little scared. He would not admit that he had found Nathaniel a hard master; he seemed, instead, anxious to assure the Inspector that he had got on well with him, and had liked the place. Swallowing, he said, as though he had keyed himself up to it, that he had been upstairs between seven-thirty and eight-thirty, and had tried to enter his master's room. He thought that that would have been at ten to eight, or perhaps a little later. He had previously run a bath for Mr. Herriard, as was his custom, and had laid out his evening clothes.
"Why did you go back?" asked the Inspector.
"Mr. Herriard used very often to like me to help him to dress after his bath," explained Ford.
"Did you find the door locked?"
"Yes, Inspector."
"Did you knock?"
"Only the once," faltered the valet.
"Was there any answer?"
"No. But I didn't make anything of that, thinking Mr. Herriard might still be in his bath."
"Was it usual for Mr. Herriard to lock his door?"
"Not to say usual, Inspector, nor yet unusual. I have known him do it, if he was put out, or didn't wish to be disturbed."
"Well, what did you do?"
"I went away again."
"Where to?"
"Just along the upper hall to the sewing-room, meaning to wait a little while. Magpie - that's the second-housemaid - was in there, pressing a skirt, which Miss Paula had asked her to see to. And on my happening to pass the remark that the master had locked his door, she said she had seen Miss Paula only a minute or two before coming away from the door in her dressing-gown."
"She did, did she? Did you see anyone on the upper hall?"
"Not to say see them, Inspector, but when I came up the backstairs I heard a footstep in the hall, and as I came through the archway that leads to the back-landing I saw Mr. Roydon's door shut."
"Do you mean Mr. Roydon had just come upstairs to change?"
"Oh no, Inspector! Mr. Roydon had been in his room some little time, Magpie having seen him come up with Miss Paula, and the pair of them standing talking together just inside Miss Paula's room."
"I'll see this Magpie presently. How long did you stay in the sewing-room?"
"Well, I couldn't exactly say, Inspector, but I daresay it would have been twenty minutes or so."
"And during that time you didn't see anyone in the upper hall?"
"Well, I wasn't looking. I heard everyone go down that is, naturally I didn't count them, not knowing it might be important; but I remember hearing Mrs. Joseph Herriard come out of her room, and Miss Paula, because Miss Paula called to Mr. Roydon, and they went down together. Then I heard Miss Clare and Mr.. Joseph joking together, a few minutes later. Now I come to think of it, I don't remember hearing Mr. Mottisfont go down, nor Miss Dean; but I did hear Mr. Stephen, for he let his door bang. It was shortly after this that I began to think it was funny Mr. Herriard hadn't come out of his room."
"Oh, you knew he hadn't?"
"Well, I wouldn't say that exactly, but I'd had an ear cocked, as you might say, in case his bell should ring, which I could have heard in the sewing-room, the door being open, and the room just at the top of the backstairs. So I went along to try the door, and when I found it was still locked I took the liberty of calling to Mr. Herriard. Then, of course, he didn't answer, nor I couldn't hear a sound inside the room, and I began to get a bit scared. Several times I called, and never any answer. And then Mr. Joseph came up, and he called to Mr. Stephen, and Mr. Stephen and I, we broke the lock open, and found Mr. Herriard lying there." He ended with a shudder, and pressed his handkerchief to his lips. "Horrible, it was! I hope I may never have to see such a sight again!"
"The chances are you won't," the Inspector said unemotionally. "What did Mr. Joseph and Mr. Stephen do?"
"They thought at first he'd fainted, like I did myself. Mr. Stephen sent me off to fetch some brandy. By the time I'd come back, they'd discovered Mr. Herriard was dead. "That won't be wanted," Mr. Stephen said, meaning the brandy. "He's dead." I give you my word I nearly dropped the tray, it was such a shock to me!"
"Must have been a shock for Mr. Stephen and Mr. Joseph too," said the Inspector.
"Oh yes, it must indeed! Mr. Joseph was quite distracted, rubbing poor Mr. Herriard's hands, and seeming as though he couldn't believe he was dead. Very devoted to Mr. Herriard, he was."
"Was Mr. Stephen much upset?"
"Well, Inspector, Mr. Stephen's not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, as the saying is, but it stands to reason it must have upset him, particularly when he hadn't been on good terms with Mr. Herriard, by all accounts. He looked very white, and spoke to me very curt. He told me he could do with the brandy himself, and he took the tray out of my hands, and told me to go and ring up the doctor. Mr. Joseph was nearly crying, and he said not to speak of Mr. Herriard's death to anyone else. He was a bit upset by Mr. Stephen's manner, Mr. Stephen having a rough tongue, as anyone will tell you. But there's many as will cover up what they feel by a rough manner, and I didn't set any store by anything Mr. Stephen said, for I saw his hand shaking, and I could see he'd had a jolt. What's more, Mr. Stephen doesn't get on with Mr. Joseph, being cross grained, and never having liked Mr. Joseph's coming to live at Lexham, by all accounts. Mr. Joseph sort of brings out the worst in him, if you take my meaning."
"Jealous of him, was he?"
"I wouldn't like to say that, Inspector, though I have heard it said that Mr. Stephen was afraid Mr. Joseph would put his nose out of joint. But I never believed that, because Mr. Stephen's no fool, and anyone could see Mr. Joseph's as innocent as a newborn babe, with no more notion of that kind of thing than nothing at all. In my opinion, it was just Mr. Joseph's way that got Mr. Stephen's goat."
"H'm!" said the Inspector. "You like Mr. Stephen, don't you?"
"I've never had any cause to dislike him. He's always been pleasant enough to me, whenever I've waited on him, which I often have."
"Got a temper, by what I hear."
"Yes, like Mr. Herriard he is, in some ways, except that he's not one to tell the world what he's thinking, by any means. You knew where you were with Mr. Herriard, but Mr. Stephen's no talker, and you wouldn't get to the bottom of him in a hurry. And I don't think the worse of him for that."
"No reason why you should," said the Inspector, closing the interview.
Magpie, when summoned to the morning-room, twisted her apron between her fingers, and said in a frightened gasp that she didn't wish to get anyone into trouble. When her alarms had been allayed, and she had been permitted to unburden herself of a highly coloured account of her own reactions to the crime, which included such interesting details as Coming Over Ever So Queer, and suffering equally from palpitations and a total inability to believe that anyone could have murdered the master, she admitted that she had seen Miss Paula and Mr. Roydon go into Miss Paula's room, and had heard the murmur of their voices, the door having been left ajar. Later, when she had come up the backstairs with Miss Paula's dress, which she had gone downstairs to fetch, having had it in the kitchen to dry, because of the stain on it which Miss Paula had asked her to wash out, she had caught a glimpse of Miss Paula outside the master's door, just coming away, as though she had been in to speak to him.
There was nothing more to be got out of her, nor did an interrogation of the rest of the staff produce any other information than that Mrs. Fratton, the cookhousekeeper, had no expectation of ever recovering from the shock; that the kitchen-maid had been having strong hysterics all the evening, her being a seven-months child, and delicate from birth; and that Preston, the headhousemaid, had seen Disaster in her teacup only the day before, and had told the rest of the staff to Mark her Words, there was Trouble coming for Someone.
By the time the Inspector, confronted by a gustily sobbing kitchen-maid, had somewhat hastily informed Mrs. Fratton, who supported and encouraged this damsel by adjurations to give over, and stop acting so silly because the policeman wasn't going to eat her, that he had no more questions to ask, the experts upstairs had finished their various tasks, and Nathaniel's body had been conveyed to the waiting ambulance.
Several finger-prints had been discovered upon the panels and handle of Nathaniel's door, and upon various articles of furniture in the room. Some of these were Nathaniel's own prints, as might have been expected; and although the others would have to be identified there did not seem to be much hope that this line of investigation would prove to be very helpful. The expert was engaged, Sergeant Capel told the Inspector, in taking the finger-prints of all the inmates of the house, a task calling for a great deal of tact and patience, since Valerie Dean was tearfully sure that her mother would object, and the female half of the domestic staff apparently considered the operation to be the first step to the gallows.
Both doctors were agreed that the blow had been dealt with a thin knife, and that death had followed within a few minutes, but no trace of the weapon had so far been found. A careful inspection of the windows had not revealed any sign of the fastenings having been tampered with, and although finger-prints were clearly visible upon the glass it was expected that these would prove to be the valet's, since he freely admitted that he had shut the windows some time before Nathaniel had come upstairs. The door-keys belonging both to the bedroom and the bathroom would be subjected to a more minute inspection, and the ventilator above the bathroom window had already been exhaustively studied, without, however, yielding any clue. The only article of interest which had been discovered in Nathaniel's room was a flat gold cigarette-case, which had been found on the floor, lying half under the armchair beside the fire, out of sight of a cursory survey of the room.
The Inspector looked narrowly at this. It bore a monogram composed of the letters S and H. "Any fingerprints?" he asked.
"No, sir."
"What, none?"
"No, sir. I reckon they got rubbed off."
"I suppose they must have. All right, I'll take charge of it."
"Yes, sir," said the young detective.
"And I'll see Miss Paula Herriard again. Send her in!"
This second summons to the morning-room apparently discomposed Paula, for she came in presently with a heightened colour, and more than her usual impetuosity. Without giving the Inspector time to speak, she demanded angrily what more he could possibly want with her. "I call it utter incompetence!" she said, scorn vibrating in her voice.
The Inspector was unmoved by this stricture. Plenty of people, he reflected, when they were frightened tried to conceal it under a blustering manner. He thought, watching her restless hands and over-brilliant eyes, that Paula was decidedly frightened. "I should like to go over your evidence again, miss," he said, turning back the pages of his notebook.
"Bright!" she commented, with a sharp, unmirthful laugh.
He paid no heed; she didn't even annoy him; in fact, the more she lost her temper the better pleased he would be. "You stated, miss, that when you went up to your room to change for dinner, you didn't come out of it again until you joined the rest of the party in the drawing-room."
Her eyes were fixed on him, neverr wavered from his face, but he thought she breathed more rapidly. "Well?"
"Do you wish to add anything to that?" asked the Inspector, giving her back look for look.
He had rattled her, just as he'd known he would. He could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the halfconcealed alarm. He could have sworn she'd play for time, and she did, saying defensively: "Why should I?"
"My information is that you were seen coming away from the deceased's bedroom in your dressing-gown," he answered, at his most stolid.
He was startled by the sudden leap of flame into her eyes, the rush of colour to her cheeks. She was a dangerous piece of goods, and no mistake! he thought.
"My God, what does this house do to people? Who's been spying on me? Did I have a bloodstained dagger in my hand?"
He was shocked by her brutality, but although he was not an imaginative man, he thought he could readily picture her as a villainess in the kind of good oldfashioned melodrama you never seemed to see nowadays. He replied dampingly: "No, miss."
"You astonish me! Now tell me this: Was I seen coming out of my uncle's room? Was I?"
"Never mind asking me questions, miss, if you please! Did you go to your uncle's room after you had gone upstairs to change for dinner?"
"No, I didn't. I went to the door of his room, and no further."
"How was that, miss?"
She jerked up one shoulder. "He wouldn't let me in. I suppose he was dead."
"When you say he wouldn't let you in, what do you mean?"
"Oh my God, must you have every I dotted, and every T crossed? The door was locked; he didn't answer when I knocked."
"Did you speak to him?"
"I don't know. Yes, I think so. I said, "It's I, Paula," or something of that sort. What does it matter?"
He ignored this. "And he didn't answer?"
"I've already said so."
"Didn't that strike you as a bit queer?"
"No."
"When you knocked on his door, and called to, him, and he didn't answer, you didn't think it in any way queer?" he persisted.
"No, I tell you!" She saw that he was incredulous, and added in a goaded voice: "I knew he didn't want to see me."
"Why not?"
"That's got nothing to do with you!"
"Oh yes, it has, miss! The fact is that you were wanting money from your uncle, which he wouldn't give you, and you'd quarrelled with him on account of it. Isn't that so?"
"You know it all, don't you?" she sneered.
"I advise you to consider your position," he said.
"There's nothing to consider! You can't prove I ever went into my uncle's room! All you can prove is that we quarrelled, and if you take the trouble to enquire a little farther into our affairs, you'll find that we've quarrelled hundreds of times before!"
"Let me remind you, miss, that when I first asked you what you did when you got upstairs this evening, you never said a word about going to your uncle's room."
"No! Because I could see from the look of you what sort of a fool you'd make of yourself if I told you that!"
She had succeeded at last in nettling him. He told her that she had better be careful what she said, but when she ironically thanked him for his warning, and asked if he had anything more to say, prudence made him swallow his irritation, and reply in an even tone that she might go.
The young detective, who had been a silent spectator of this scene, remarked that she was a hard-boiled dame. The Inspector grunted, refusing to commit himself.
"I thought you'd have pushed her a bit more, sir," ventured the detective.
"I daresay you did. The difference between us is that I wasn't born yesterday," replied the Inspector. "There's no knowing with her sort. Send Roydon in to me!"
Willoughby strolled in presently, with the butt of a cigar between his fingers, and addressed the Inspector with a rather overacted air of tolerance. "Well, Inspector, what is it now?" he said.
Confronted with the valet's evidence, he changed colour, but said with more annoyance than guilt: "Look here, what are you getting at? If you think I went to Mr. Herriard's room, you're damned well wrong!"
"When I put the question to you, sir, you stated that you did not leave your room until you came down to dinner. I have reason to believe that you did."
"Naturally when you asked me that I thought you meant did I go to Mr. Herriard's room!"
"But that wasn't what I asked you sir. Did you or did you not leave your room before you went down to the drawing-room?"
"Oh well, if you insist on such accuracy, yes, I did! Not that it has the least bearing on the case, which is why I didn't mention it."
"I'll be the judge of that, thank you, sir. Why did you leave your room? Where did you go to?"
"Good God, where do you suppose I went to?" asked Roydon. "You policemen must be pretty hard-up for clues if you're reduced to suspecting a man just because he is a man and not an angel!"
"Oh!" said the Inspector, rather blankly. "Seems to me you might have told me that before, sir."
"I probably should have if I'd remembered it," said Roydon. "And if that's all you want to know -"
"A minute ago, sir, you said you would have told me if you'd thought it had any bearing on the case."
"Well, so I should have, only it hadn't, which is probably why I forgot it," replied Roydon. "Is there anything else?"
"That'll be all for the present," said the Inspector.
Roydon walked out of the room. The young detective remarked that it looked fishy to him. "Telling lies like that, for no reason!"
"People do," said the Inspector. "Afraid of getting mixed up in things. I don't see my way yet, and that's a fact." His eye alighted on the gold cigarette-case. He picked it up. "Where's Esher taking the finger-prints?"
"In the library. The old gentleman showed him in there. Miss Dean kicked up a fuss about it. The old man had his work cut out, jollying her along. Esher ought to be about through by this time."
"We'll go and have a look," said the Inspector, moving towards the door.
He arrived in the library in time to see Mathilda submitting her well-manicured hand to the expert.
"Of course, I quite see that this will seriously cramp my style if ever I decide to take to a life of crime," she said.
"If you think that that's why I absolutely loathe the idea of having mine done -" began Valerie hotly, and broke off at sight of the Inspector.
Mathilda glanced over her shoulder. "Ah, Torquemada in person!"
Joseph went up to the Inspector, saying: "Come in, Inspector! We're just finishing, as you can see."
"Very sorry to have to ask you to submit to this, sir, but -"
"Nonsense! Of course we understand that it must be!" "Well, I think it's absolutely degrading!" interrupted Valerie. "As though one was a common criminal, or something! I never thought I should be so insulted!" Even Joseph's patience showed signs of cracking. He said with a touch of asperity: "My dear child, don't be a silly little goose! Do you want any of us, Inspector? Can you tell me anything, or mustn't I ask?"
"Nothing to tell you so far, sir. I would like to know which of you gentlemen owns this, if you please."
They all looked at the cigarette-case. The monogram was plainly to be read. The Inspector's gaze was fixed on Stephen. Stephen was looking at the case; his harsh face gave nothing away. Joseph, after one glance, cast a swift, startled look at Mathilda, half-questioning, half-appalled.
"Well, it's not mine!" said Roydon.
"It's mine," said Stephen coolly, raising his eyes to the Inspector's. "Where did you find it?"
"Had you mislaid it, sir?"
Stephen did not answer for a moment. Joseph said with uneasy jocularity: "I don't suppose he knows whether he had or not! I'm afraid my nephew's always leaving things about, aren't you, Stephen? Where did you pick it up, Inspector? We don't want any mysteries, if you don't mind!"
"It was discovered, sir, in the late Mr. Herriard's bedroom," replied the Inspector.
Joseph's airy manner momentarily deserted him. He gave a gasp, and said in a hurry: "Oh, there might be dozens of explanations to account for that! Why - why, my nephew probably put it down there when we were in the room together, or very likely - or at least quite possibly my brother found it lying somewhere, and took it up, meaning to give it back to him. Oh, I can think of any number of explanations!"
"Well, don't!" said Stephen ungratefully. "Mind telling me precisely where this was found, Inspector?"
"It was lying on the floor, half under the chair by the fire."
"Oh, then the thing's perfectly plain!" said Joseph, still labouring in Stephen's defence. "I expect it slipped out of your pocket, old man, and in the agitation of the moment you didn't notice it. When you were bending over poor Nat. That would be it!"
"The case was not found anywhere near the body of the deceased, sir," interpolated the Inspector.
"Oh! Well, I daresay it got kicked across the room," said Joseph, in a despairing way. "I'm sure we were all so much upset that anything could have happened! Stephen, why don't you say something? There's nothing in this! We all know that! There's no need to be silly about it! All the Inspector wants to know is -"
"So far, I've had damned little chance of saying anything," said Stephen. "If you've quite finished handing out a line of talk which wouldn't convince a half-wit, I will state two facts. I don't know how my case got into my uncle's room. It did not fall out of my pocket, possibly because my agitation didn't lead me to stand on my head, but more certainly because I hadn't it on me when I entered the room."
The Inspector took no trouble to conceal his scepticism. Joseph plunged again into deep waters. "Depend upon it, my brother took it upstairs with him! Really, there's no need -"
"And dropped it on the floor, sir?"
"Pushed it under the chair, apparently," said Stephen.
"Or is that what I'm supposed to have done, Inspector?" "I wouldn't say that," answered the Inspector. "It might have fallen off the chair - if someone sitting there thought he'd put it in his pocket, but happened to drop it into the chair instead, and then got up. Someone a bit careless, maybe."
"I object to that!" Joseph interrupted. "That's deliberately twisting a perfectly innocent remark of mine to mean something I never intended, and which is absurd - quite absurd!"
"Shut up!" said Stephen. "I admit it's my case; I accept your statement that it was found in my uncle's room. So what, Inspector?"
"You'd better consider your position, sir."
Mathilda, who had preserved a somewhat ominous silence throughout this interchange, moved forward. "Quite finished?" she enquired. "Because if so I'll speak my little piece. I saw Mr. Stephen Herriard give his cigarette-case to Miss Dean before ever he left the drawing-room after tea."
Stephen laughed. Valerie said furiously: "You shan't put it on to me! I never had his beastly case! I left it on the table! I don't know what became of it! He probably picked it up before he went out of the room. You're the filthiest, meanest beast I ever met, Mathilda Clare!"
"And you, my little pet," said Mathilda, with great cordiality, "are a bitch!"