She raised her brows a trifle haughtily. "Particular reason?" she repeated. "I don't think I quite understand you, Inspector. What precisely do you mean?"
"Nothing very much," said Harding, with his rather charming smile. "It merely strikes me, a stranger, as a little odd, if the only reason for fetching Sir Arthur was as you informed the Superintendent yesterday — that he should not miss his cocktail, that it was not Lady Billington-Smith who went to him, or even Miss Fawcett."
Mrs. Twining unfastened the catch of her bag, and closed it again. "It was not really so very odd, Inspector if you knew the circumstances."
"But, you see, I don't know the circumstances," said Harding. "That is what I want you to explain to me, please."
Mrs. Twining looked up from her bag. "It would take rather too long, Inspector, I am afraid. I was a very old friend of Sir Arthur's. There was nothing at all unusual in my going to have a little talk with him."
"Then you did, in fact, want to see him alone?" said Harding.
She hesitated. "Yes," she said at last. "There was something I wanted to discuss with him." She met Harding's steady regard. "His son's marriage," she said, deliberately.
"Sir Arthur was considerably upset by Geoffrey's engagement to Miss de Silva, and I wanted to talk it over with him."
"When you say upset, Mrs. Twining, do you mean distressed or enraged?"
"I imagine, both, Inspector. It was, not unnaturally a blow to Sir Arthur." She moved slightly in her chair putting a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.
"Am I right in assuming, Mrs. Twining, that there had been a serious quarrel between Sir Arthur and his son which you wished if possible to smooth over?"
She smiled. "Serious, Inspector? Oh no! Noisy perhaps, but hardly serious to anyone acquainted with Sir Arthur. Sir Arthur had had far too many quarrels with his son — and, in fact, with everybody with whom he came in contact — for his outbreaks to be taken seriously. But while his bad temper lasted he could make himself extremely disagreeable. I am afraid my mission was only to talk him into a good humour so that he shouldn't ruin his wife's luncheon-party — as he was somewhat apt to do when at all put out."
"You didn't consider the quarrel with his son to be of much moment?"
"You see," said Mrs. Twining apologetically, "I knew Sir Arthur too well to set much store by his threats."
"And you didn't think that his threats might provoke his son to some extreme course of action?"
She gave a faint laugh. "No, Inspector, I certainly did not. I am also well acquainted with Geoffrey — too well acquainted to expect him to do more than precisely what he did do — fling himself out of the house in a temper and walk it off, and return — a trifle sheepishly."
"I see," said Harding. "And now will you try to tell me, Mrs. Twining, exactly how you found Sir Arthur, when you went into the study, and what you did?"
"I found him dead, Inspector," she replied calmly. "He had fallen forward across his desk."
"You didn't raise any outcry?" inquired Harding.
"If you mean, did I scream, certainly not. I am not a flapper," said Mrs. Twining with a touch of asperity. "Nor did I immediately realise that Sir Arthur was dead. If I remember rightly, I spoke his name first. Then I went up to him, and laid my hand on his shoulder." Involuntarily sloe glanced down at her hand. "I didn't see the blood till I had actually touched him," she said in a level controlled voice. "I don't think I grasped what had happened even then. I believe I must have stayed quite still for some moments. I felt — a little stunned. When I pulled myself together I tried to rouse him; I think I felt for his pulse." She stopped, and pressed her handkerchief to her lips.
"And then?" prompted Harding.
She looked at him. "I felt extremely sick," she said. "I sat clown on the arm of the chair by the fire — or perhaps I should say, more correctly, that I collapsed on to it. I think if I had not I should have fainted outright. When the — nausea passed, I left the room, shutting the door behind me, so that no one should see in, and went back to the terrace, and told the others."
"So that it was at least five minutes, possibly even longer, after you discovered Sir Arthur before you went back to the terrace?"
"I have no idea," she replied. "I should think it quite probable."
Harding got up. "Thank you, Mrs. Twining. I won't ask you any more just at present." She rose, and went towards the door. He held it open for her, and as she passed out, said: "I wonder if you would be kind enough to ask Lady Billington-Smith if she will come here?"
She bowed. "Certainly, Inspector," she said, and wens out.
Chapter Ten
Harding shut the door behind Mrs. Twining, and walked slowly back to the table. "Well, Sergeant?"
The Sergeant pursed his lips. "You want to know how it struck me, sir?"
"Very much."
"Well, I'd say she behaved very cool," said the Sergeant, thinking it over. "Very cool indeed. I don't say it didn't happen just as she said, but it would have seemed to me more natural-like if she'd run out of the room just as soon as she saw the General was dead."
"I agree with you. At the same time she gives me the impression of being a woman of considerable strength of character." He hunted through his papers for Fay's statement. "She was keeping something back, of course. from what I can gather, Sir Arthur's temper was not quite so evanescent as she would have had us believe."
" No, sir," said the Sergeant doubtfully.
"So quickly over," Harding said.
"Quickly over? That I will say it was not, sir! I wouldn't like to speak ill of the dead, but Sir Arthur was a fair terror. Quite a byword, you might say."
The door opened; Fay came in, and stood for moment looking across the room at Harding. In a black dress she had a pathetically frail appearance. Her eyes were deeply shadowed, her lips rather bloodless.
"Lady Billington-Smith?" Harding said. "Will come and sit down?" He spoke in a reassuring way, quite unexpected by one who had had experience so far only of Superintendent Lupton's methods.
"Thank you," Fay said in a low voice, and took the chair Mrs. Twining had occupied. "I understand you want to ask me some questions. I — made a statement to the Superintendent yesterday. I don't know — if there is anything more you want to ask me."
"I'm sorry, Lady Billington-Smith, but I'm afraid I must ask you certain questions — some of them perhaps rather distressing to you," Harding said. "Will you try and answer them quite frankly — and believe I wouldn't put them to you unless I considered it necessary?"
Her eyes fluttered to his face again, surprised and grateful. "Yes, of course. I quite understand."
He sat down. "I want to know first, Lady Billington-Smith: were you upon good terms with your husband at the time of his death?"
The suddenness of the question startled her. "What do you mean?" she faltered.
"I am not insinuating anything," he said. "I only want you to tell me the truth."
"My husband — my husband was not an easy man to deal with," Fay said with difficulty. "We had our disagreements sometimes, but we were not on bad terms."
"Your husband was, I understand, a very hot tempered man? You had quarrels fairly frequently?"
"I — I am not a quarrelsome person, Inspector. My husband had a way of — blustering, when he was annoyed. We did not quarrel."
"You mean that your husband was inclined to — may I say — scold you, when anything happened to annoy him?"
"Yes. But it was nothing. He didn't mean it."
"On the morning of July first — yesterday, in fact — did some such scene occur between you?"
"My husband was very angry with Geoffrey — with his son. Not with me."