The Unfinished Clue (12 page)

Fay came docilely, and lay down. Her wide eyes stole to Dinah's face for a moment, and then sank. "Yes. I expect I shall. Dinah -"

Dinah took one of her cold hands. "What, darling?"

"When the detective comes," Fay said carefully, "Do you think I need be there? Of course he will want to see me; I quite realise that. But do you think I need receive him? Could you be there instead? Geoffrey isn't much good, and — and I expect he'll want someone, won't he?"

"I haven't the foggiest notion," said Dinah, "but I'll be there all right. Don't you worry about it!"

"Thank you," Fay said.

Miss Fawcett withdrew, and went downstairs to the telephone. She had remembered that no one had as yet broken the news to her mother.

Mrs. Fawcett received the tidings characteristically.After her first exclamations of horror and incredulity she said in a faint, injured voice that Dinah should not have told her over the telephone; the shock was too terrible. So Dinah knew then that her parent was enjoying a spell of shattered health, and there would not be the least necessity to dissuade her from instantly coming to Fay's side. Mrs. Fawcett had made attention to her own comfort her primary consideration for so many years that it was extremely doubtful whether anything could break a habit thus firmly embedded. In a plaintive voice that would have led any stranger to suppose her to be on the point of collapse she said that she only wished she could come down at once to be with dearest Fay. Only what, she asked sadly, was the use of her dragging herself on the long, tiring journey when she would have to go to bed the instant she arrived? It would be the sheerest folly, for she was already far from well, and Dinah must surely know how the slightest exertion prostrated her.

Dinah grinned as she put the receiver down at last. Mother will have a glorious time now, she reflected, picturing Mrs. Fawcett already tottering to the nearest sofa. She'll tell all her friends, and say how terrible it is for her to be tied to her couch, when she would give anything to be here with Fay. And she'll do it awfully well, too, thought Miss Fawcett appreciatively, and went to sit on the terrace till the detective should arrive.

It was a long time before he came, and she was once more reminded of the dentist's waiting-room. It seemed very improbable that the murder could be brought home to her, but she had all a female's unreasonable mistrust of policemen, and what she had seen of the Superintendent did not lead her to view the advent of another of his tribe with anything but the most profound foreboding. However, on one point she had quite made up her mind: if this person from Scotland Yard thought he was going to ask her questions in a rude, bullying tone he would find that he had made a great mistake.

By half-past three the feeling of the dentist's waiting room had grown considerably, and when, at a quarter to four, Finch came to inform Geoffrey, who had joined hcon the terrace not long before, that Sergeant Nethersole and the Inspector from Scotland Yard had arrived, Miss Fawcett was aware of a most curious and disagreeable sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"I suppose I'd better see the fellow, hadn't I?" said Geoffrey. "Not that I can be of any use to him as far as I can see. What's he like Finch?"

"We shall soon see what he's like for ourselves," said Dinah bracingly. "Come on, I'll go with you." She gave Geoffrey's arm a friendly squeeze. "Don't let yourself get agitated, my child. He can't eat you."

"Oh, I'm not agitated!" said Geoffrey with a laugh "Only I do hope they haven't sent some frightful bounder down. Where have you put him, Finch?"

"I showed him into the morning-room, sir. He seems if I may say so, a very quiet gentleman."

"Well, thank God for that!" said Geoffrey, putting up a nervous hand to his tie. "Come on, Dinah - if you are coming!"

There were two men in the morning-room, one dressed in a sergeant's uniform, and the other in a lounge suit that bore the indefinable stamp of a good tailor. "Inspector Harding, sir," said Finch, evidently feeling that an introduction was called for.

"Oh - er - good - afternoon, Inspector!" said Geoffrey "Good afternoon," said Harding pleasantly. He glanced towards Dinah, and found that damsel surveying him with patent surprise.

Good lord, he is a gentleman! thought Geoffrey. Well, that's something, anyway. He doesn't look such a bad chap, either.

Miss Fawcett, realising that her frank stare was being returned with a rather amused twinkle, had the grace to blush. She stepped forward, and held out her hand. "How do you do?" she said politely.

"How do you do, Miss Fawcett," said Harding, shaking hands with her.

"How on earth did you know I was Miss Fawcett?" asked Dinah, visibly impressed.

"The butler told me that he would fetch Miss Fawcett," explained Harding gravely.

"Oh!" said Dinah, disappointed. "I thought you were being hideously clever."

"No, I'm afraid I wasn't," said Harding apologetically.

This man, decided Miss Fawcett, is definitely going to be nice.

Chapter Nine

Inspector Harding was listening to Geoffrey, voluble and slightly injured. "Of course I know you've got to make inquiries," Geoffrey said, "but I do hope you'll be as quick as you can, because it's frightfully rotten for my stepmother - I mean, she's had a simply ghastly shock, you know - we both have, if it comes to that - and having the house crammed full of visitors makes it all absolutely foul for us. And naturally they don't want to hang about here either. Personally, I can't see -"

"I shall be as quick as I can be, Mr. Billington-Smith," said Harding, evidently feeling that this rambling harangue might go on indefinitely. "I should like first to inspect the study, please, and then perhaps you will let your butler show me the other rooms on this floor."

"What on earth do you want to see the other room for?" asked Geoffrey. "Of course, you can if you like, but I must say I don't quite see -"

"Thank you," said Harding. "I won't keep you am longer now, Mr. Billington-Smith." He turned to Finch, still standing by the door. "Will you take me to the study, please?"

"Yes, show the Inspector the way, will you, Finch?" said Geoffrey, "If you want me just tell Finch, Inspector - not that I can be much use to you, because I didn't happen to be here when my father was murdered, but if you do want me -"

"I'll ask Finch to fetch you if I do," said Harding, and he followed the butler out into the hall.

The constable on duty in the study rose from a chair against the wall when the door was opened, and brightened perceptibly when he saw the Sergeant. It was a dull job, keeping guard on an empty room.

The Sergeant told him he could go and wait outside, and then fixed his gaze on the Inspector, standing still by the desk, looking about him.

"Nothing has been moved, Sergeant, I take it?"

"Nothing but what the Superintendent showed you down at the station," said the Sergeant.

"I see." Harding turned. Just a minute before you go, Finch. When you entered this room with Mr. Guest and Mr. Halliday, were these windows shut, or open?"

"The front windows were open, sir. Sir Arthur never had the side window open when he sat here. I thought it best to shut them when we locked the room up, in case of anyone trying to come in for any purpose."

"Had you any reason to think that someone might wish to come into the room?"

The butler hesitated. "Not then, sir - in a manner of speaking."

"But later you had?"

"I don't know that I would go so far as to say that, sir, but it did seem to me that Mr. Halliday was not best pleased."

"What made you think that?" asked Harding.

"Well, sir, I don't know that I could give any definate reason. Mr. Halliday seemed anxious to get the key in his own hands, to my way of thinking."

Harding looked consideringly at him for a moment "Mr. Guest, however, agreed with you that the room should be shut up?"

"Oh yes, sir. It was Mr. Guest who suggested the key should be put into Dr Raymond's charge."

"And eventually you all left the room together?"

"Yes, sir."

"Who did actually lock the door?"

"Mr. Guest, sir. He gave the key to Dr Raymond at once."

"Did he or you ascertain that the door was locked?"

"Yes, sir, I did," replied Finch instantly.

"And there was no possibility that anyone could have unlocked it with any other key than the one belonging to it?"

"No, sir, none. Sir Arthur had all the locks made different when he built the house."

"I see." Harding made a note in his pocket-book. "Will you now arrange the room exactly as you found it when you first came in after the murder, please?"

"You mean the windows, sir? Everything else is just as it was."

"Yes, the windows."

The butler moved over to the front windows, pulled back the curtains and drew the bolts, fixing the windows wide. Then he walked over to the other one and parted the net curtains a little way. "They were like that, sir."

"Thank you. Before you go, I should like you to answer one or two questions. First, where did Sir Arthur keep the dagger he used as a paper-knife?"

"Always on the desk, sir."

"'There should be a sheath, I think, matching the handle. I don't see it here?"

"No, sir, the sheath was lost some years ago, when Sir Arthur had the knife abroad with him."

"Ah! I wondered about that." Harding drew a sheaf of papers from his breast-pocket, and ran through them till he found the one he wanted. "You have said that at five minutes past twelve on Monday you overheard voices in this room, one of which you identified as Mr. Halliday's." "Yes, sir."

"You had no doubt that it was Mr. Halliday's voice?"

"No, sir, none. Mr. Halliday has what I might call a very distinctive voice."

"Did you overhear anything of what was said?"

"No, sir. The doors are very thick in this house, as you can see, and Sir Arthur was speaking at the same time." "Angrily?"

"More what one would call blustering, sir. It was Mr. Halliday who was picking the quarrel."

Harding looked up from his notes. "You could not distinguish what was said, and yet you can positively assert that it was Mr. Halliday who picked the quarrel. Isn't that rather curious?"

"Perhaps I should not have said quite that, sir. I assumed it was Mr. Halliday who was angry, on account that Sir Arthur's partiality for Mrs. Halliday."

"Oh. Was this partiality very marked?"

"Very marked, sir. If I may say so, I had expected something in the nature of a quarrel to occur, Mr. Halliday not relishing Sir Arthur's attentions to Mrs. Halliday."

"You formed the impression that Mr. Halliday was jealous?"

"Oh yes, sir, very much so. Mr. Halliday was always watching Mrs. Halliday and Sir Arthur. It is not my place to say so, but Mrs. Halliday was what I should call flirtatious, leading Sir Arthur on. It was easy to see that Mr. Halliday did not like it."

Harding nodded, and resumed his perusal of the butler's original statement. "You did not see Mr. Halliday leave the study. Where did you go when you left the hall?"

"I went to my pantry, sir, till Mrs. Twining came."

"How long would that be?"

The butler reflected. "Well, sir, not more than five minutes, I should say, before the front door bell rang."

"When you went to admit Mrs. Twining did you still hear voices in the study?"

"No, sir, not a sound."

"And when you had shown Mrs. Twining on to the terrace - where did you go then?"

"Pardon me, sir, but I did not show Mrs. Twining on to the terrace," said Finch. "Mrs. Twining said that she would announce herself."

"Was that usual?"

"In Mrs. Twining's case, quite usual, sir. Mrs. Twining was a very old friend of Sir Arthur's. She had been motoring in an open car, and she wished to tidy her hair before going on to the terrace. There is a mirror in the hall, as you will notice, sir. Mrs. Twining went to look at herself in it, and told me I need not wait."

"So that you did not see her go out on to the terrace?"

"No, sir, I went straight back to my pantry to mix the cocktails."

"Was anyone else in the pantry?"

The butler considered for a moment. "I rather fancy that Charles - the footman, sir - was, as one might put it, between the pantry and the dining-room, laying the table for lunch. But I could not be sure on that point. When the front door bell rang again - it would be only a few minutes later, for I was in the act of cutting the orange for the cocktails — I went back to the hall."

"Again you heard no sound from the study?"

"No, sir, it was quite quiet."

"Who had rung the front door bell?"

"Mrs. Chudleigh, sir - the Vicar's wife. I showed her on to the terrace, and then went back to my pantry."

"Did you go into the hall again after that?"

"Not until I took the cocktail tray out, sir. That would be just after half past twelve, on account of my being interrupted while mixing the cocktails, and so being a few minutes later than I should otherwise have been."

"And you did not pass through the hall again until one o'clock, when you met Mr. Guest and Mr. Halliday on their way to the study?"

"No, sir. I was busy preparing for luncheon."

"In the dining-room?"

"Between the dining-room and the pantry, sir. I should tell you that there is a door leading from the dining-room to the passage outside the pantry."

"You did not show Mrs. Chudleigh out?"

"No, sir. I understand that Mrs. Chudleigh left by way of the garden."

"Oh? Which way is that?"

The butler moved towards the west window. "Yoy may see for yourself, sir. This opens on to the path leading from the drive to the lawn at the back of the house."

Harding followed him, and looked out. "I see." He consulted the paper in his hand again. "One more question. At what hour did Mr. Billington-Smith leave the house on Monday morning?"

"I really couldn't say, sir," replied Finch, after a moment's consideration.

The grey eyes lifted to his face. "Try to remember, will you?" said Harding gently.

"I'm afraid I didn't notice the time, sir. It was before Sir Arthur came in, I know."

"Would you agree that it was half past eleven?"

"Somewhere about there, sir, I should say."

"Did it strike you that Mr. Billington-Smith was at all upset when he went out?"

"I did not notice anything unusual, sir."

"You did not consider it unusual for him to go without his hat on a hot day?"

"Oh dear me, no, sir! Mr. Billington-Smith very rarely wore a hat in the country."

"Did he appear to be in a hurry?"

"It did not strike me in that way, sir."

"He did not, in your opinion, rush out of the house as though he were quite beside himself?"

"No, sir, certainly not. But then I know Mr Geoffrey very well, and I should not set any store by him moving quickly, as one might say. Mr Geoffrey has an impetuous way of going about his business, if you understand me."

"So that you did not think it odd that he should leave the front door open behind him?"

"Oh no, not at all, sir. Mr Geoffrey is very forgetful in those ways."

Once more Harding favoured him with a long, appraising look. "Thank you," he said. "I don't think there is anything more I want to ask you at present."

The butler bowed. "No, sir. Perhaps you would touch the bell when you wish me to conduct you over the house?"

The Sergeant watched him go out of the room, carefully closing the door behind him, and transferred his gaze to Inspector Harding's face. "You got more out of him than what the Superintendent did, sir," he remarked in his deep, slow voice. "A sight more."

"A very precise witness - until we got to Mr. Billington-Smith, where I think he swerved a little from the truth," commented Harding.

"I was watching him close all the time," said the Sergeant unnecessarily. "It struck me he was being careful — I won't say more than that. Careful."

"Sergeant, will you sit down at the desk?" said Harding, going to the west window again. "I think it might help us to know whether a man seated in that chair would be visible to anyone walking down the path to the drive." He unbolted the window as he spoke, and stepped out into the garden, drawing the window to behind him. As at the front of the house, a broad grass border ran from the window to the gravel path. Harding crossed this, went a little way up the path, and then turned, and walked down it, past the window. Then he re-entered the room, and bolted the window once more. "Yes, I think perhaps Mrs. Chudleigh may be able to help us fix the time of the murder more exactly," he said. He came up to the desk. "Now, Sergeant, let us look through these papers," hc said, taking the swivel-chair which the Sergeant had just vacated. "I don't think there's anything else likely to interest us, with the possible exception of the safe. I shall want that opened, of course. Do you know if the Chief Constable warned Mr. Billington-Smith to have his father's lawyer down?"