"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?"