Читать книгу The Night of the Storm - Arthur Gask - Страница 5

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"THIS is Stratford St. Mary we are just coming to," remarked Superintendent Russell to the two Inspectors from the Yard, "and to the ordinary person it might seem quite impossible that so beautiful a village could be associated with a dreadful crime."

"That's so," nodded Inspector Carter thoughtfully, "but it has often been noted that, in proportion to the number of its inhabitants, the countryside is undoubtedly more criminally inclined than any cities or big towns. We might imagine wickedness and vice would flourish best among the crowded slums, but very lonely places often produce the worst cases of homicide."

"Exactly," commented Stone, his eyes twinkling, "and if we only knew it, many a rosy-cheeked farmer round here hides a dead body in his haystack, and the cellar of the old woman who keeps the village shop would get her hanged, if the authorities only dug it up."

"Don't take any notice of him, Superintendent," said Carter with a frown. "He's always most frivolous when he should be concentrating his thoughts." He eyed his colleague contemptuously. "And it all come from his being too greedy with his food."

A short silence followed, and then as the car turned out of the main road and shot between some high gates it slowed down a little to pass a single seater car coming out. "That's Miss Arbour," said the Superintendent. "She's a great friend of theirs and engaged to that Dr. Athol."

"Well, she's very good-looking," nodded Stone. "Does she live in the village, too?"

"Yes, not a quarter of a mile away and just outside the Priory grounds." The Superintendent smiled grimly. "She's been coming here every day to give them moral support."

Entering the grounds, the Superintendent made a little detour to point out to them the bungalow and the gardener's cottage, and then drove up to the front door. Jumping briskly out of the car he rang the bell. "Now the butler generally answers it," he said, "and you just notice the hang-dog look he'll put on when he sees me."

"To speak to the young ladies," he announced curtly when, as he had expected, the butler appeared, and immediately they were ushered into the hall.

"If you'll please wait here a moment, sir," said Chime most deferentially, "I'll tell them you have come. They have a visitor with them in the library, but I expect they'll see you at once."

"But he didn't look hang-dog," remarked Stone with a smile when the butler had gone off. "In fact, the fellow seemed to me to be suppressing a grin."

"But he'll not grin presently," said the Superintendent, rather annoyed. "It'll frighten the life out of him when he learns from where you've come."

Chime returned almost immediately with the intimation that the Misses Brabazon-Fanes would see them at once, but the Superintendent made no movement to leave the hall, and, instead, stood pointing out to the Inspectors where the small rifle had hung upon the wall, and the drawer in the hall stand from which it was supposed the cartridge had been taken. Then he opened and shut the hall door several times to let them hear the clicking it made, and, indeed, was evidently intending, in a most studied way, to make those who were expecting him realise they must wait upon his pleasure and not he upon theirs.

But Stone frowned, and with an impatient movement of his head towards Chime, intimated most plainly that they must not keep those waiting for them any longer. So, reddening slightly at the implied reproof, the Superintendent followed the butler up the long lounge hall.

Chime threw open the door of the library. "Mr. Russell and the two gentlemen," he announced, and he stepped back for the others to pass in.

Four people were sitting in the room and they all rose to their feet at once as the little party came in. Stone had the instant impression of three very pretty girls and a youngish and smartly dressed man who was standing just behind them. But he was all eyes for the girls, whose good looks, he thought admiringly, did not certainly fall short of what the Superintendent had stated.

"Inspectors Carter and Stone," said the Superintendent curtly, "and they want a few words with you." He turned to his companions. "The Misses Brabazon-Fane. Mr. Carter and Mr Stone," and then he frowned in annoyance at the presence there of a man he did not know.

The two Inspectors bowed gravely. "Good morning, young ladies. We are very sorry——" began Stone politely, but then his grave expression passed suddenly and his face broke into a surprised and pleasant smile. "Ah! Mr. Larose!" he exclaimed with great animation. "Now, we certainly did not expect to find you here," and he at once stepped forward to shake hands, with Carter immediately following suit.

"I arrived only a few minutes ago," explained Larose returning the smile, "I'm a friend of the Misses Brabazon-Fane."

"And a very good friend for them to have, too," smiled the stout Inspector. "I'm sure I wouldn't wish for a better one myself, if I were in any difficulty or trouble." He turned to the Superintendent. "This is Mr. Gilbert Larose, Mr. Russell, and, as you know, he was once a colleague of ours at the Yard. We've worked on many cases together."

The Superintendent just nodded. He was in no mood for any politeness, and was downright annoyed that Stone should be speaking so pleasantly in the presence of a murderess.

"But won't you sit down, gentlemen?" said one of the girls, the one whom both the Inspectors were already inclined to register in their minds as being the prettiest. She inclined her head proudly. "We'd better make ourselves known to you. I am Beatrice Brabazon-Fane, the eldest; this is my sister, Eva, who comes next, and this is the youngest of us, Lady Mentone."

"Pleased to meet you," bowed Stone, "and we only wish it had been under happier circumstances." He smiled his kind, fatherly smile. "You can count on us being as considerate as possible."

"And you won't mind Mr. Larose being here when you question us?" went on Beatrice sweetly. "He can stay with us?"

"Certainly, he can," replied Stone heartily. "Neither my colleague nor I will have the slightest objection." He spread out his hands. "We are not any more for the prosecution than, I take it, is Mr. Larose for the defence. All we are after is to get at the truth. We want to find the person who killed that poor man, and if none of you had any part in it, then you needn't have the slightest fear of us or be afraid of being tripped up by any questions we may ask you."

"Thank you," said Beatrice quietly. "Then you can ask us anything you like and we'll try to help you all we can."

"That's it," said Stone quickly. "It's your help we want." He spoke very solemnly. "But you must realise the exact position you are in, young ladies, and how, under all the circumstances, we cannot but regard you are being under the very gravest suspicion." He shook his head slowly. "Indeed I tell you quite frankly that if, instead of three of you, there was only one, then we should not have the very slightest compunction in ordering her immediate arrest."

"But no grand jury would allow the case to go up for trial," rapped out Eva sharply. "No one murders without a motive and you'll never discover any of us had the faintest reason for wanting to kill Mr. Toller." She laughed scornfully. "No grand jury, I say, would return a true bill."

Stone regarded her half in amusement and half with a frown, but before he could make any comment the Superintendent broke in dryly. "This one is the young lady I told you of Mr. Stone, who is engaged to that King's Counsel, Mr. Aker-Banks, and upon several occasions, already, she has been good enough to enlighten me as to the law of evidence."

"Ah!" exclaimed Stone smilingly, "I understand." He turned to the girl and went on. "But if one of you did commit this crime, Miss Eva, then the motive will assuredly be found. So, if we come to the conclusion that one of you is the guilty party, then we shall have to trace back for the reason why the murder was done." He took some papers out of his pocket. "Now you all express your perfect willingness to help us all you can and will, voluntarily, answer any questions we ask? Good, then we'll start straight away."

"But I think, Mr. Stone," said Inspector Carter, speaking for the first time, "it will be better if we question those young ladies separately."

"Why?" asked Beatrice immediately and in rather a sharp tone of voice.

"Because we shall then see," replied the Inspector imperturbably, "if your stories exactly coincide." He turned to the Superintendent. "You haven't spoken to any of these ladies alone as yet, Mr. Russell?"

"No," jerked out the Superintendent crossly. "I didn't suggest it and they wouldn't have been willing if I had. They've been on the defensive all along."

"Well, Miss Brabazon-Fane," said Stone suavely, "will you now very kindly come into another room and prove the sincerity of your willingness to help and of your having nothing to hide. Mr. Larose can be present and then you won't feel quite so much on your own."

So Beatrice, a little pale but appearing quite self-possessed, left the library with the four men. Then when they were out in the hall Inspector Stone stopped suddenly and said to the girl. "But now I come to think of it, will you please take us upstairs and just show us the rooms where you young ladies sleep. It may make it clearer for us to understand where you all were that night." He smiled reassuringly. "We don't want to examine anything, but only to see the situation of the rooms."

Without a word Beatrice led the way up the broad staircase and, gaining the landing above, opened the first door she came to. "This is my bedroom," she said quietly, "and my sisters' are the adjoining ones up the passage."

They all stepped inside. The room was a good-sized one and furnished in excellent taste. The men looked round with varied feelings. Stone could smell dried lavender somewhere and the expression upon his face was reverential and almost timid. Carter was cold and calculating, and nothing escaped his eye; the Superintendent was scowling, as if he were not too pleased that a murderess, or a sister of one, should sleep so daintily, and Larose was turning his head in all directions and taking instantaneous mental photographs of everything before him.

It was only Stone who moved from beyond the threshold of the room, and he tip-toed to one of the open windows and, stretching his head outside, took a good look round over the grounds.

Then they went into the next room, Lady Mentone's, which was furnished in pale blue, and finally they looked into Eva's cream-tinted bedroom.

"Thank you," said Stone, "and now for the few little questions we would like to ask you."

They proceeded to a small room off the lounge ball, and when they were seated, Stone started to speak at once.

"Now, please, Miss Brabazon-Fane," he said kindly, "as I say, don't look upon us as your enemies. Look upon us as your friends who want to clear you of this suspicion. So just tell us, in a conversational and unrestrained sort of way, exactly what you did that night after you separated from your sisters. Tell us everything. Oh, first, where did you part company?"

"They left me just outside my bedroom door," replied Beatrice. "I said good-night to them there, and they went on up the corridor to their own rooms."

"And what, exactly, were your last words to them?" asked Stone. He bent towards her. "I want, particularly, to know your last words."

Beatrice appeared to be surprised at the question. Then she hesitated for an appreciable time before she spoke. "I think they were, 'Good-night' to Eva, and to Lady Mentone, 'Now, mind you don't read for a single moment.'" She nodded. "Yes, that's what I said, because Dr. Athol had, only that morning, forbidden Lady Mentone to read in bed."

"And then you went into your room and got ready for bed!" suggested Stone.

"Yes, I undressed at once, switched off the light, and got straight into bed."

"You mean you got into bed," smiled Stone, "and then switched off the light. I noticed you have a light over your bed, with a double switch."

Beatrice shook her head. "No, I switched off the light first, as I always do, because I went over to the windows and pulled up the blinds. I always sleep with the blinds up."

Stone accepted the explanation. "Are you a light sleeper?" he asked.

Beatrice nodded. "Oh, yes, quite light. I wake up very quickly."

"Go on," said Stone. "Tell us everything you remember."

"Well, I was dead tired and I think I fell asleep at once. Then the thunder woke me and I got out of bed to see if the rain was coming in either of the windows, but finding it wasn't I got back quickly and then I don't think I was awake long. I didn't fully wake up again until I heard someone tapping on my door, and I called out. 'Who is it?' Then Chime answered, and I jumped out of bed at once and, after switching on the light, opened the door."

"Oh!" exclaimed Stone, "then you switched on the light, forgetting the blinds were pulled up! You must have been very startled to forget that."

"I didn't forget it," replied Beatrice quickly, "but as I wasn't going near the window it didn't matter then." She nodded. "Yes, I was startled. I thought one of the maids had been taken ill."

Stone went off on another tack. "Now, do you usually sleep with your door bolted?"

Beatrice shook her head. "No, never. It is always unbolted, so that the maid can bring in the tea when she calls me in the morning."

"And does the maid knock before entering?" asked Stone carelessly.

"Most certainly she does."

"And she waits for you to speak before she comes in?"

"Of course. She's been properly trained. She waits until I call out that she can come in."

"And I suppose it is only the maids who come up on your floor; never Chime!"

"Yes, only the maids; never Chime. His room is in a different wing, and he goes up by another staircase."

Stone went on. "Well, now another thing. Did you know Mr. Toller's housekeeper would be away from the bungalow that evening?"

"Yes, I did."

"Then how did you come to know it?"

"Because that morning cook told me and had asked for permission to go with her into Colchester."

"But did you know the cook hadn't gone?"

"Yes, I happened to go into the kitchen later in the day, and cook said then she was feeling too tired to go out."

Stone leaned back in his chair. "Well suppose," he said slowly, "you had really been the one to shoot Mr. Toller and leave him where he was found, you would have known that everything would have been discovered when his housekeeper returned from Colchester by the bus about half-past 11." He eyed her frowningly. "That is so, is it not?"

Beatrice did not hesitate a moment. "Yes, I expect I should," she replied quickly. "Mrs. Bowman would have had to pass by the open window, and with the blind drawn up, of course, she would have seen him lying there."

"And that being so," continued the Inspector, "you would have guessed the housekeepers first thought would have been to ring here for help?"

"Yes, I certainly should have been expecting her to have rung up Chime," replied Beatrice. She went on coolly. "Then Chime, after he had made sure what had really happened, would have come up and informed me, for I am the mistress here and it would have been the natural thing for him to do."

The Inspector's voice now took on an almost accusing note, and he spoke even more slowly still. "And if guilty of the murder and expecting all this to happen, when Chime had come to knock at the door you would have called out to him exactly what you have just told us—as an innocent person—you did?" He shook his finger warningly. "You said 'Who's there,' and not 'Come in,' which you would have said if you had thought it was one of the maids!"

But Beatrice seemed in no wise disconcerted. "You are inferring a great deal from a very little, aren't you?" she asked quietly. She looked fearlessly at him. "Tell me exactly what you mean?"

"I mean, Miss Beatrice," said Stone sternly, "that when Chime knocked upon your door that night your actions and speech appeared not unlike those of the guilty woman. You acted and spoke exactly as if you had been expecting Chime—and no one else—to knock upon the door, and you were prepared to cry out at once 'Who's there?' Now if you had thought it was one of the maids knocking, which, of course, in the ordinary way you would have thought—for you have just told us Chime never came up on your floor—you would have called out, as you say you always do, 'Come in!'" He shook his head frowningly. "Now that, to my mind, is decidedly suspicious."

"And to mine," retorted Beatrice with some heat, "decidedly ridiculous." She looked scornful. "Good gracious, when a girl is suddenly awakened in the middle of the night by tapping upon her door, is it likely, do you think, she is going to call out 'Come in'? There was something frightening about Chime's knocking. I have told you it was quiet, but it was insistent, as of someone in a desperate hurry. He knocked quickly, quite half a dozen times, and the knocking was as different from that of any of the maids as is an unfamiliar footstep from one you know quite well." She shrugged her shoulders. "You are making a lot out of nothing at all."

Stone frowned and gave a quick glance round at the others, especially at Larose. But the latter's expression was quite inscrutable, and if he thought the Inspector was not coming out too well from the encounter, his face did not show it.

Stone turned back to Beatrice. "And so you think you've explained that to our satisfaction," he said, not unpleasantly. "Well, we'll go on. What happened next?"

"I put my head round the door," went on Beatrice, "and Chime whispered that Mr. Toller had met with a dreadful accident, and Dr. Athol was waiting in the hall to tell me about it. So I threw on my dressing gown and ran downstairs. Then Dr. Athol told me Mr. Toller had been shot, and everything that had happened. Then——"

"One moment, please. How did he begin telling you?"

"By saying he had dreadful news, or something like that."

"And what did you say then? What exactly were your first words?"

Beatrice shook her head. "Oh, I don't remember. I haven't the remotest idea. All I recollect is I was sick with horror. Hardly any conversation ensued, and Dr. Athol went off almost at once."

"And what did you say to Chime when he had gone?"

"Nothing. I went straight back to my room. I never said a word to him, nor he to me."

The Inspector looked incredulous. "Come, come," he said sharply. "You don't mean to tell us you weren't curious about a lot of things, as to the finding of the body, what police had come, and when Chime had heard someone shutting the door?" He scoffed. "To say nothing of the murder having been done with your own rifle, stolen from the hall!" He shook his heard frowningly. "Surely you don't mean us to believe you never asked your butler anything?"

"But I do," said Beatrice with the utmost firmness, "for it's the truth. I couldn't think properly and I never gave a thought to any details. All I realised was that I had been standing in the dimly lighted hall, with the noise of the pouring rain so loud that Dr. Athol had had to raise his voice to make himself heard, and I had been told that a man I had been seeing and speaking to almost daily, for more than two years, had been brutally murdered." Her voice choked. "Can't you understand what my mental condition must have been then?"

Stone turned to the Superintendent. "Just touch that bell, please." He spoke ominously. "We'll verify this straight away."

A dramatic hush came over the room. It was a critical moment and the Superintendent was the only one there who was not feeling sorry for the girl. She was leaning back in her chair and her eyes were cast down. Her face was very pale. Stone and Carter were, purposely, looking away from her, but the Superintendent was regarding her with a cold, sarcastic smile.

Larose was troubled. Beatrice had certainly held her own most ably up to then, but, somehow, he thought he sensed she had all along been playing a part, and behind all her quick and ready answers had been a background of anxiety as if she were not absolutely certain of herself.

A tense minute followed and then they heard footsteps outside, there was a gentle tap upon the door and Chime entered. He looked interrogatively at his mistress.

Beatrice indicated Inspector Stone. "This gentleman wants to ask you some questions," she said quietly, "and of course you'll answer him as fully as you can."

"Yes, Miss," said Chime, and he looked respectfully at the Inspector.

"So you see, Mr. Chime," smiled Stone, "your mistress wishes you to be quite frank with us and not keep back anything. You understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well," went on Stone briskly, "you fetched your mistress down that night and were present in the hall when Dr. Athol was telling her what happened?"

Chime nodded. "Yes, sir, I was there all the time."

"And then you let the doctor out and, of course, bolted the door behind him?"

"Yes, sir."

Stone leaned forward and spoke very sharply. "Now, are you quite sure you bolted that door after he had gone out?"

The Superintendent regarded Stone admiringly. This big man from the yard would make Chime convict his mistress of falsehood, but was so masking his intention by questions that were of no importance, that the butler would not realise he was tailing into a trap.

Chime replied without the slightest hesitation. "Yes, sir, I am quite sure."

"And your mistress saw you do it?" went on Stone, very quietly.

Chime hesitated. "I don't quite know about that, sir," he replied very slowly, "but she must have heard me shoot the bolts, anyhow," he explained. "You see she was half-way up the stairs when I turned round and so I can't say whether she had been watching me."

"Oh, then she didn't speak to you?" said Stone quickly.

"No, sir, she didn't say anything. She appeared very ill."

"But if she were half-way up the stairs, as you say," snapped Stone viciously, "how could she appear to you to be very ill? You would have only seen her back."

"Yes, sir," said the butler, "but she was hanging on to the bannister as she went up. She looked as if, any moment, she were going to fall. I was relieved to see her reach the landing safely."

A short silence followed and then Stone said quietly, "Thank you, Mr. Chime. That's all. You can go now," and when the butler had left the room he turned to Beatrice and went on briskly—"Then the next morning you informed your sisters. Tell us what happened."

"I told my sister Eva, first," said Beatrice, "as I thought it best we should both go together to Lady Mentone. So I went into Eva's room just after half-past six and woke her up. She was dazed and I had to tell her twice before she could take in what I was saying. Then——"

"Then what were her exact words?" interrupted Stone. "Her exact words, please?"

Beatrice thought for a moment. "Something like 'My God, how dreadful! But his wife or some other woman did it, and I'm not at all surprised. It probably served him right!'"

"Then you went and told Lady Mentone? Was she asleep, too?"

"No, she was sitting up in bed and brushing her hair. She always wakes up early."

"Who spoke first when you went in?"

"She did. She asked us what we were doing wandering about so early. Then I told her what had happened."

"Your exact words, please," said Stone.

Beatrice was quite ready with her reply. "I said, 'Now, don't be frightened, Billy, but there was a dreadful accident at the bungalow last night. Someone shot Mr. Toller and he's dead. He was shot through the window, and the police think it must have been some poacher who had come after the pheasants.'"

Stone eyed her very sternly. "And you can reel off the exact words there," he said slowly, "and yet you tell us you can remember nothing of what you said at the much more tragic moment when Dr. Athol had just told you Mr. Toller had been murdered!" He looked scornful. "Don't you think that rather peculiar?"

"No, I don't," replied Beatrice sharply, "for when Dr. Athol told me of the murder I was too horror-struck to retain any recollection of what I said, but——" she nodded emphatically—"I had been all night rehearsing the exact words I should use to Lady Mentone, and they are clearly impressed upon my memory." She spoke very quietly.

"Oh, that's your explanation, is it?" grunted Stone. He thought for a moment. "Then how did Lady Mentone take it?"

Beatrice looked troubled at the recollection. "She went ghastly pale and then fell back upon the pillow and began to cry. We expected she would take it badly, for she's emotional and very highly strung. She was terribly shocked."

"But for all that," commented Stone grimly, "not two hours later she was downstairs having breakfast with you."

"She never makes an invalid of herself," retorted Beatrice calmly. "That's the trouble. She does much too much, and that day she had to go back to bed before lunch."

"Well, now about that dog of Mr. Toller's," went on Stone, after having scanned his notes. "The animal knows you quite well, doesn't he?"

"Very well," replied Beatrice carelessly. "He's always up here round the house."

"And therefore, if that night you had gone tip-toeing up to Mr. Toller's window," suggested Stone, "he would not have barked because he would have recognised your footsteps."

"I doubt it," retorted Beatrice instantly, "because if I had tip-toed up, the footsteps then would have sounded quite different from my usual ones." She looked scornful. "As a rule, I don't tip-toe."

Stone half smiled and looked down his nose. Then a short silence ensuing, Inspector Carter, speaking for the first time, asked, "Have you been accustomed to shoot much with that rifle, Miss Brabazon-Fane?"

"Yes, I've often shot rooks with it," replied Beatrice, "but I haven't used it since my father's death."

"Are you a good shot?"

"Quite passable."

"Then you would have had no need," suggested Carter, "to go close up to the window if you had wanted to shoot Mr. Toller. You could have fired across that flower bed I noticed, when driving in just now. I don't suppose you would have been more than thirty yards away."

"But if I had done that," said Beatrice promptly, "I should not have been seen running by the rhododendrons just afterwards. I should have cut across the lawn as the nearest way to the front door here."

Inspector Carter made no comment, and then Stone took up the questioning again.

"Now as to your personal relations with Mr. Toller," he said. "I understand you young ladies were never friendly with him. In fact, it is suggested from your line of conduct that you didn't like him."

"It was not a case of like or dislike in any personal way," said Beatrice sharply. She shrugged her shoulders. "He was just our agent, and that was all. He was particularly an acquisition to the estate, because he had had something of an architect's training, and was a very good draughtsman."

"Were you yourself brought much in contact with him?" asked Stone.

"Certainly. I saw him at least two or three times every week, for it was I who finalised all the estate business with him."

"Did he came up here, then?"

"No. I went down to the office. He never came up here at all." Beatrice nodded. "That was the arrangement my father made when Mr. Toller was first engaged and when father died I continued it."

"Then upon those very many occasions you refer to," said Stone sharply, "you were closeted with Mr. Toller alone."

"I was certainly alone with him in the office," admitted Beatrice calmly, "but almost invariably one of my sisters was waiting for me outside. We always made these occasions of visiting the office part of our usual morning walk in the grounds."

"Hum!" remarked Stone thoughtfully, and then he asked, "Have you been aware all along that Mr. Toller was a married man?"

"No, we did not any of us know that until we saw in the newspapers about six months ago that his wife had got a separation from him."

Stone shook his head decisively. "Then we cannot understand this lack of friendliness," he said, "and I tell you frankly, we are suspicious there was some very good reason for it. It's all nonsense to say you neither liked nor disliked the man. You can't have employed him for upwards of three years and not formed some estimation of his character."

"I have never said we hadn't formed any estimation of his character," declared Beatrice warmly. "On the contrary, right at the beginning we judged him to be a man who would become familiar upon the slightest encouragement and that is why we left him alone." She shrugged her shoulders. "He was our agent, and nothing more, and we never let him get any further."

"You danced with him at the tenants' ball," said Stone with a frown.

"As I danced with the blacksmith and the verger of the church," commented Beatrice. "We all had one dance with him. It was a duty dance."

"And you have told Mr. Russell," went on Stone, "that you have no idea of anyone who might have had cause to wish Mr. Toller ill!"

"Not to the extent of murdering him," replied Beatrice. "Certainly, very few of the tenants liked him, as his manner was rather overbearing, but we can imagine no one who would have hated him enough to carry out so dreadful a revenge."

"Well, one question more," said Stone, "and it is a very important one." He bent forward smilingly. "Now how long have you known Mr. Gilbert Larose?"

Beatrice looked at her wrist-watch. "Exactly an hour and five minutes. He arrived only just before you did."

Stone elevated his eyebrows as if surprised. Then he seemed rather amused. But he made no comment, and went on briskly. "Well, now we'll have Miss Eva in. No, no, you needn't go, Miss Beatrice. You can sit and listen. I don't expect we shall be long with either of your sisters."

"But one thing first, please," said Beatrice. "I want to know when we shall be able to use the office again. It is most inconvenient not to be able to get to the books and the safe. Our trustee, Mr. Oliver Redding, the Colchester accountant, has rung up Superintendent Russell twice, but he's got no satisfaction at all, and it is most annoying, as a new agent has been engaged, and is waiting to take up his duties."

Stone looked interrogatively at the Superintendent, and the latter said, frowningly to Beatrice. "You may be able to have it after today. It all depends upon these gentlemen here."

Eva Brabazon-Fane came into the room with her head held very high, but the moment she set eyes upon her sister her studied expression of defiance passed instantly away.

"Oh, Beatrice, darling!" she exclaimed in some dismay, "have they been bullying you? You look so pale."

"No, we have not been bullying her," exclaimed Stone at once. He laughed slyly. "And you must know quite well she's not the sort of young lady to stand bullying at any time. From all I've learnt of her these last few minutes she can hold her own with anyone."

"Well what do you want to ask me?" said Eva coldly, and in no wise responding to the Inspector's good-natured attitude.

"The first thing you knew of the murder," began Stone, "was when your sister came into your room the next morning! That is so, is it not?"

"Yes, when she woke me up," replied Eva curtly.

"Oh, you were asleep when she came in, were you?" exclaimed Stone, as if very surprised.

"Yes, fast asleep, and she had to almost shake me to wake me up."

"And what did you say when she had told you Mr. Toller had been killed? Your exact words, please."

Eva looked scornful. "Oh, I don t remember," she replied sharply. She corrected herself quickly. "Oh, yes, I do." She shook her head. "But I'm not going to tell you. I made a remark I should not have done."

"But you must tell me," said Stone sternly. "It's one of the things I asked you in here to find out." He spoke very quietly. "Take in fully, please, Miss Eva, what I have already told you—that you and your sisters are under the very gravest suspicion. Indeed, in all my life's work among crime, I do not think I have ever known circumstantial evidence of a stronger nature than that we have now against one of you three girls." He raised his hand in emphasis. "Realise that we are now accusing you, and that if the accusation be unwarranted, then it will be much better for you all to rebut it here, rather than compel us to fight it out later in court." He smiled quite pleasantly. "Therefore, just you try to satisfy us that, although we may suspect, we cannot adduce one single fact in proof, and in consequence we should be very foolish if we brought you before the magistrates in Colchester tomorrow."

Eva looked contemptuous and if she sensed a veiled threat in the Inspector's words she certainly showed no fear, but continued to object to giving him the information he asked for.

"But why," she asked boldly, "should I repeat a remark I regret having made? It won't help you in any way."

"I'll be the judge of that," retorted Stone sharply. He spoke pleasantly again. "You see, Miss Eva, we want to find out if there is any collusion between you three; if one of you committed the murder and the others knew it; in fact, if two of you are trying to shield the third. So, I am asking you questions to catch you tripping."

Eva tossed her head. "Oh, in that case, then I'll tell you. I said something to the effect that I wasn't very surprised, some woman might have done it, and no doubt it served him right."

"Ah!" exclaimed Stone, "then you must have had some very good reason to make that remark!"

"Only that it was public knowledge he had served one woman badly, his wife," returned Eva coolly, "and that it was his habit to regard every woman insolently."

"And yet you danced with him at the tenants' ball?" frowned Stone incredulously.

Eva nodded. "If I hadn't," she replied, "he might have imagined I thought him different from the others there, and was afraid of his powers of seduction."

"Then you positively disliked him?" asked Stone.

"Detested him," was the calm reply. "Always regarded him as a good-looking blackguard."

Stone repressed a smile. "But Miss Beatrice here has just told us that she did not dislike him."

Eva looked affectionately at Beatrice "That's not true," she said quietly. "She did dislike him, but her nature is much too kind to admit it."

"And can you suggest no one," asked Stone, "who wanted to take revenge on Mr. Toller?"

"I could suggest every pretty girl he'd ever spoken to," replied Eva scornfully, "but I know of no one in particular."

"Have you shot with that rifle?" was Stone's next question.

"Yes, quite often. I shot an owl with it, not a fortnight ago."

"Are you a good shot?"

Eva nodded. "Quite a good one. I could shoot you"—the faintest expression of amusement flickered into her eyes—"or Superintendent Russell here, in the forehead, three times out of five at sixty yards."

"And could either of your sisters do that?" asked Stone, noting with a grim smile the scowl upon the Superintendent's face.

"Oh, no," replied Eva, "ten yards would be their limit or, perhaps, only five." She looked nonchalantly round the room. "But my marksmanship is different."

Stone was annoyed at her flippant tones. "But have you really taken in yet, young lady," he asked, "that we feel almost certain one of you girls is the criminal?"

"Certainly, I have," she replied, and then she added scornfully, "Thanks to Chime and his very lively imagination."

"Ah!" exclaimed Stone, "you think it imagination on Chime's part, do you?" He regarded her very sternly. "Well, we do not."

"But you don't know Chime," laughed the girl, "and how little he can be depended upon for anything except his routine duties as a butler." She looked very amused. "His sole recreation is reading penny-dreadfuls, and he's bursting with imagination. He's always warning us the house will be broken into one night, and he's always telling us he's heard poachers in the grounds. He goes out looking for footprints in the morning."

"Then you believe Chime didn't hear the clicking of the door and those sounds in the hall that night?" asked Stone frowningly.

"Oh, I don't say that," replied Eva instantly, "but I am certainly of opinion that he wasn't certain he heard them until they fitted in with someone having come into the house to steal that rifle to shoot Mr. Toller with." She nodded emphatically. "Then he was at once quite sure he heard the clicking of the door."

"And the footsteps in the hall?" queried Stone sarcastically. "They were an afterthought, too, were they?"

"Yes, in the same way as the crunching on the gravel," replied Eva. "The crunching is his obsession now, and you won't get him away from it. Chime has a strong vein of obstinacy in his character, and a whole bench of judges won't shake him there. That's his final decision and he'll stick to it, although he may keep on telling his story in a different way." She laughed. "That'll be your snag. You see."

"Then you've discussed it with Chime?" asked Stone frowningly.

"Of course we have," replied Eva. "We've tried to get at the real truth of everything"—she looked round disdainfully—"but without any success."

Stone smiled ironically. "These assertions of yours that Chime's testimony can never be relied upon are ingenious and cleverly put, but"—he shook his head grimly—"they don't shake our belief in him in the very slightest. His mentioning having heard that church clock chime at half-past ten, just before he heard the clicking of the door and those footsteps in the hall, is proof positive to us that his story told, when by the dead man's side, is absolutely the truth."

"I don't see it," scoffed Eva. "Explain, please."

"Well, bear in mind," said Stone, raising one fat forefinger impressively, "that your butler knew nothing then of the gardener having heard the fatal shot a few seconds before that chiming of the clock, or of his having seen the assassin flying towards this house a few seconds afterwards, but for all that he was able to give Superintendent Russell certain information, not understandable at the time he gave it, but which fitted in exactly when the gardener's tale became known. In effect, he gave the end of the story without having heard the beginning. He knew the key to the puzzle without having seen the puzzle itself."

Stone went on. "And another of the times so well fits in, too. It was a little over a minute after the half-hour that Chime heard the hall door bang shut and it would take any of you young ladies about that time to run, from where the gardener saw the flying figure, to the door itself."

"And do you think, if it had been one of us," asked Eva scornfully, "that we should have been so dead to the first principles of safety, as to throw away the rifle, the only thing that could have incriminated us. How did we know it was going to pour with rain and there would be no fingermarks upon it?"

"You may have been wearing gloves," said Stone.

"But why throw the rifle away at all?" asked Eva. "Why shouldn't we have put it back to its accustomed place in the hall, and then it might never have been found out that the murder had been committed with it?"

"The rifle was hampering your running," said Stone, "and you were in a panic. You heard the gardener shouting after you and you were afraid you might be caught."

"Caught by the gardener," laughed Eva mockingly, "whom we know is 74, and is so crippled by rheumatism that he can hardly walk, let alone run!"

"Well, you had heard the church clock strike the half-hour," said Stone testily, "and knowing Chime was always punctual to the minute in locking up, you were realising the urgency of getting into the house before it was closed up."

"And knowing all that," laughed Eva merrily, "why should we have cut the time for shooting Mr. Toller so fine? Why should we not have made the shooting half an hour earlier and walked home at our leisure?" She made a gesture of contempt. "But if the door had been shut, I could have got into my room with no difficulty, for as a young girl I have many times climbed through my window, up the ivy, and I could have done it that night again, if I had wanted to."

Stone looked at Carter interrogatively, but as the latter had apparently no questions to ask, he nodded to the Superintendent to ring the bell, and very soon Lady Mentone was being ushered in. Both Beatrice and Eva wanted to remain while she was being questioned, but the Inspector firmly but smilingly insisted they must withdraw.

Lady Mentone was quite as good-looking as her sisters, and not dissimilar to them in appearance. She had the same clear-cut profile, pretty mouth, and flawless complexion, but her eyes were bigger and of a lighter blue. Her chin, however, was not so firm and her face, generally, suggested not such a strong and self-reliant character as either Beatrice's or Eva's. Just now she was looking rather haggard and wan.

She settled herself in her chair and took out a cigarette. "I'll smoke, if you don't mind," she said in her beautifully-modulated voice. She smiled. "I feel a little nervous."

Stone took her over much the same ground as he had done Eva, and she answered readily enough, corroborating in many details what her sisters had said. Then Stone, remembering the Superintendent had told him her name was down twice on Toller's dance programme, asked carelessly. "And I understand you danced with Mr. Toller at the tenants' ball?"

"Yes," she replied. "I had one dance with him."

"Only one," queried Stone, and when she nodded, he went on sharply. "But your name was twice on his programme."

"I know it was," she smiled, "but we sat out the second dance."

"Oh, you sat it out, did you," he exclaimed. "Well, how did you come to do that, if as, with your sisters, you say, you didn't like the man."

She spoke with no embarrassment. "The explanation is quite simple. The first dance was the one we give to anyone and it came to an end just when I was finding his conversation interesting. Then, as I was looking down my programme to see who was going to claim me next, he saw I was not full up and asked me for another dance later on. I couldn't well refuse him without being downright rude, and to some extent I didn't want to refuse him. So I let him put down his name again."

"But you didn't have another dance, you say," said Stone.

"No, when it came to the time I was feeling tired, and said I would rather sit it out."

"Then where did you go?"

"Into the conservatory. It was more secluded and the light was dim there, and to be quite frank with you, I wasn't over-anxious to be seen with him. I knew my sisters would disapprove of it."

"And what had been his conversation to make it so interesting to you?" asked Stone.

"Oh, it was about theatres and plays and actors and actresses. He knew quite a lot about theatrical matters."

"Did he know you had been on the stage?"

"Yes, he said he remembered seeing me in 'The Moss Rose.'"

Stone eyed her very intently. "And do you remember seeing him then?" he asked sharply.

"Good gracious, no!" was the instant reply. "I had never set eyes upon him before he came up here as the agent."

"But how did he come to know such a lot about actors and actresses?" asked Stone.

Just for one second Lady Mentone hesitated. Then she shook her head. "I don't know," she replied. "He didn't say."

"And how long were you two sitting out?" was Stone's next question.

"Something under ten minutes I should say. Not any longer, certainly."

"And how do you explain," asked Stone very sternly, "this willingness on your part to remain, even for that time, with a man whom you have all said you disliked, alone, in a secluded spot, and in the semi-darkness."

Lady Mentone's laugh was like the tinkling of a silver bell. "It requires no explanation," she said. "I was just bored with the whole evening and his conversation was more interesting than would have been a dance with the local baker, the village butcher, or the other tradesmen who are tenants of ours." She flared up angrily. "I, Mr. Inspector, am not like my sisters. I have seen more of the world than they have, and can put any man in his place quick and lively, if he presumes upon any politeness I show him." She looked scornful. "Any girl who's been on the stage as I have, sees no significance in being alone with a man."

"Did you consider Mr. Toller a gentleman?" asked Stone, ignoring her display of temper.

"Certainly not. He always gave me the impression of being a clever but unscrupulous adventurer."

Stone asked her a few more questions and then, thanking her most politely, said he had finished with her for the present.

Larose, too, got up from his chair. "And I'll go as well," he said. "I'd like, however, to be with you when you go through the bungalow, if I may."

"Certainly," smiled Stone, "and we'll send Chime for you in a few minutes." Then when the door was closed behind the two he turned and nodded to his companions. "And I'm not sorry he didn't want to stop. He's a fine fellow, Gilbert Larose, but too much of a sentimentalist at heart, and he would be inclined to shield those girls if he could find any excuse for doing so." He made a grimace. "Well, gentlemen, what's the verdict? What do you two think?"

"There's no collusion between them," said Carter promptly, "but I believe two of them are holding something back, that last one and the elder sister." He nodded. "They know more than they have told us."

"But I'm not so certain there's no collusion," snapped the Superintendent decisively. "I believe they are all involved in the murder and, to my thinking, that Eva girl put up the biggest bluff of all."

A long silence followed and then Carter asked: "Well, Charles Stone, what do you say?"

The stout Inspector looked very troubled. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid," he whispered. "I would like to think none of them had had a hand in it, but somehow I've got the impression the curtain has just been rung down upon a little drama, specially staged for us. They were all three much too ready with their answers, as if they'd thought out every question that was likely to be put to them." He shook his head frowningly. "They wanted to appear quite unconcerned, but there was tragedy behind Beatrice's eyes, Eva put much too bold a front on, and this last girl was, in part, lying to us, although I don't quite know where." He drew in a deep breath. "We all suspect these girls, but we must explore all other avenues in case we are wrong."

He rose briskly to his feet. "Now, for the bungalow, please, Superintendent."

"But aren't you going to have Chime in now?" frowned the latter. "He's the most damning witness against them."

"I think," said Stone slowly, "I think we'd best leave him for a little while. Then we may be able to see if the girls have been priming him what to say, following upon the questions we have just been asking them. Yes, we'll do the bungalow first, and then we can go through the statements of all the staff here"—he nodded—"not by any means forgetting Toller's housekeeper. She's most important."