“That’s all right, then,” continued the Inspector in the same soft voice. He flashed a glance at Ellery. But Ellery was studying the face of Mr. Smith. The fat man had retreated to the farther side of the kitchen and was striving to hold his breath. He looked as if he were squeezing himself in some fantastic effort to achieve two dimensions. The wattled face was deathly purple. “Let’s go into the living room and talk.”
“Now, Mrs. Carreau,” said the old gentleman when they were all seated stiffly in the big room, the hot sunlight pouring in through the French windows, “please explain yourself. I want the truth, now; if I don’t get it from you I’ll get it from the others, so you may as well make a clean breast of it.”
“What would you like to know?” murmured Mrs. Carreau.
“A lot of things. Let’s get the practical answers first. How long have you been in this house?”
“Two weeks.” Her musical voice was barely audible; she kept her eyes on the floor. Mrs. Xavier was lying in an armchair with closed eyes, deathly still.
“Guest here?”
“You might — call it that.” She paused, lifted her eyes, dropped them again.
“With whom did you come, Mrs. Carreau? Or were you alone?”
She hesitated again. Ann Forrest said swiftly: “No. I came with Mrs. Carreau. I’m her confidential secretary.”
“So I’ve noted,” said the Inspector coldly. “You’ll please keep out of this, young woman. I’ve a score to settle with you for disobeying orders. I don’t like my witnesses running off and passing the word along to — others.” Miss Forrest flushed and bit her lip. “Mrs. Carreau, how long have you known Dr. Xavier?”
“Two weeks, Inspector.”
“Oh, I see. Didn’t you know any of the others before, either?”
“No.”
“Is that right, Xavier?”
The big man muttered: “That’s right.”
“Then sickness brought you up here, eh, Mrs. Carreau?”
She shivered. “In... in a way.”
“You’re supposed to be traveling in Europe now, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Her eyes were raised now, pleading. “I... I didn’t want my — it known.”
“Is that why you hid last night when my son and I drove up, why these people were so nervous, covered you up?”
She whispered: “Yes.”
The Inspector straightened and thoughtfully took snuff. Not particularly auspicious, he thought. He glanced about, searching for Ellery. But Ellery had unaccountably disappeared.
“Then you never saw anyone here before; just came for medical treatment? For observation maybe?”
“Yes, Inspector, oh, yes!”
“Hmm.” The old gentleman took a turn about the room. No one spoke. “Tell me, Mrs. Carreau — did you leave your room last night for any reason?” He could scarcely hear her reply. “Eh?”
“No.”
“That’s not true!” cried Mrs. Xavier suddenly, opening her eyes. She sprang to her feet, tall and magnificently furious. “She did! I saw her!”
Mrs. Carreau paled. Miss Forrest half rose, eyes snapping. Mark Xavier looked startled and extended his arm in a curious gesture.
“Hold everything,” murmured the Inspector. “And that means, everybody. You say you saw Mrs. Carreau leave her room, Mrs. Xavier?”
“Yes! She slipped out of her room a little after midnight and hurried downstairs. I saw her enter my... my husband’s study. They were there—”
“Yes, Mrs. Xavier? For how long?”
Her eyes wavered. “I don’t know. I... didn’t... wait.”
“Is that true, Mrs. Carreau?” asked the Inspector in the same soft tone.
Tears had sprung into the small woman’s eyes. Her mouth quivered, and then she began to weep. “Yes, oh, yes,” she sobbed, hiding her face on Miss Forrest’s bosom.
“But I didn’t—”
“Just a moment.” The Inspector regarded Mrs. Xavier with a faintly mocking smile. “I thought you told us, Mrs. Xavier, that you retired at once last night and slept through the night?”
The tall woman bit her lip and sat down suddenly. “I know. I lied. I thought you would suspect — But I saw her! It was she! She—” She stopped in confusion.
“And you didn’t wait,” said the Inspector mildly, “to see when she came out. My, my, what are our women coming to! All right, Mrs. Carreau, why did you wait until you thought everyone was asleep to slip down for a chat with Dr. Xavier — after midnight?”
Mrs. Carreau fumbled for a gray-silk handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes and set her little chin firmly. “It was stupid of me to lie, Inspector. Mrs. Wheary had come to my room before she retired to tell me that strangers — you gentlemen — were staying the night because of a fire below. She told me Dr. Xavier was downstairs. I was — worried,” her brown eyes flickered, “and went down to talk to him.”
“About my son and me, hey?”
“Yes...”
“And your... er... condition also, hey?”
She reddened, but she repeated: “Yes.”
“How’d you find him? All right? Spry? Natural? As usual? Nothing on his mind?”
“He was quite the same, Inspector,” she whispered. “Kind, thoughtful — as ever. We talked a while, then I went back upstairs—”
“Damn you!” shrieked Mrs. Xavier, on her feet again. “I can’t, I won’t stand it! She’s been off in corners with him every night — since she came — whispering, whispering with that cunning pretty false smile of hers — stealing him away from me — weeping crocodile tears — playing on his sympathies... He never could resist a pretty woman! Shall I tell you why, Inspector, why she’s here?” She pounced forward, leveling a shaking finger at the shrinking figure of Mrs. Carreau. “Shall I? Shall I?”
Dr. Holmes spoke for the first time in an hour. “Oh, I say, Mrs. Xavier,” he mumbled, “I shouldn’t—”
“No, oh, no,” moaned Mrs. Carreau, hiding her face in her hands. “Please, please...”
“You contemptible she-devil!” raged Ann Forrest, jumping to her feet. “You would, you... you wolverine! I’ll—”
“Ann,” said Dr. Holmes in a low voice, stepping before her.
The Inspector watched them with bright, almost smiling eyes. He was very still; barely moved his head from one face to another as they spoke. The big room was noisy with furious voices, heavy breathing... “Shall I?” screamed Mrs. Xavier, madness in her eyes. “Shall I?”
The noise stopped as abruptly as if someone had sheared it off with a bolo. There was a sound from the corridor door.
“There’s really no need, Mrs. Xavier,” said Ellery cheerfully. “We know all about it, you see. Dry your eyes, Mrs. Carreau. This is far from a major tragedy. My father and I shall keep your secret — longer, I fear,” he said with a sad wag of his head, “than some of the others... Dad, I take particular pleasure in introducing to you the... ah... the — what you saw last night, or thought you saw.” The Inspector was gaping. “And, I might add, two of the brightest, nicest, best-mannered and friendliest lads who ever became irked at the necessity of skulking in a bedroom and decided to crawl out into a corridor for a little romantic peep at the terrible men who had blundered into their host’s house. Meet — reading from left to right — Messrs. Julian and Francis Carreau, Mrs. Carreau’s sons. I’ve just made their acquaintance and I think they’re delightful!”
Ellery was standing in the doorway, an arm about the shoulder of each of two tall, good-looking boys whose bright eyes investigated every detail of the tableau before them inquisitively. Ellery, who stood behind then smiling, nevertheless contrived to fix his father with an angry eye. The old gentleman stopped gaping, gulped, and came forward rather shakily.