"When you say that the way Lady Billington-Smith and Mr. Guest behaved was a bit thick, do you mean that there was love-making between them?"
"Oh, not in public!" said Camilla, with a little laugh."They were much too clever for that. Only anybody could tell by the way he looked at her that he absolutely potty about her."
"But you did not actually see anything more than the looks?" persisted Harding.
"No, but I can put two and two together, Inspector."
"I see that you can, Mrs. Halliday. But I think we have wandered away from the point. Will you tell me what you did when you went up to take your hat off?"
"Well, I took it off," said Camilla flippantly. "And then I powdered my nose, and one thing and another, any I then — oh, I forgot to say that Basil, my husband, came in, and I gave him the cheque, and told him what had happened."
"Was he very much annoyed, Mrs. Halliday?"
"Oh no, not annoyed!" Camilla assured him. "I mean. it was really quite funny, the General being smitted by me. We made up our minds to treat it as a joke, only of course Basil said the cheque must be given back at once. So he said he'd do that, and I went down on to the terrace."
"Do you remember what the time was then?"
"No, I can't say I do, but that's the worst of me, I simply never look at the clock."
"You were on the terrace, I think, when Mrs. Twining arrived?"
"Yes," admitted Camilla.
"And when did your husband join you?"
"Oh, quite soon afterwards — I don't know exactly. Every one was there, except Geoffrey and that sickening Mexican girl, and where they were I don't know, though I do know that Geoffrey said he'd been out walking, which I must say I thought sounded very odd."
"You remained on the terrace until one o'clock?"
"Yes, I did," said Camilla significantly. "And so did my husband."
"Did anyone leave the terrace before one o'clock?"
"Mr. Guest did. He pretended he hadn't got his tobacco pouch on him -"
"Have you any reason for saying "pretended", Mrs. Halliday?"
"I don't know whether he had or not, but I thought at the time that it was only an excuse, because Basil offered to let him have some of his, and he wouldn't take it. He insisted on going indoors for his own, and he was gone for ages."
"What does "ages" mean, Mrs. Halliday?"
"Oh, I don't know, but ever so long! I couldn't think what he could be doing. In fact, I told him he was nearly too late for a cocktail when he came back. And I thought then that he seemed funny in his manner — awfully silent, you know. I don't know whether Basil told you, but I do think you ought to know about the blood on Mr. Guest's shirt-cuff."
"Yes, I think I certainly ought to know about that," said Harding. "Perhaps you'll tell me, Mrs. Halliday?"
"Well, I don't like saying anything against anybody but all I know is that there was blood on his cuff, and Basil called attention to it. And Mr. Guest was obviously annoyed, and he told us some story about cutting his wrist when he was opening his tobacco tin. But all I can say is nothing would induce him to let us see the cut though both Fay and I wanted to. He got frightfully curt and pulled his sleeve down. I didn't think anything of it at the time — I mean, one doesn't — but when Mrs. Twining came out with her glove all soaked with blood (it was too frightfuclass="underline" it made me feel absolutely sick!) and told us what had happened I couldn't help wondering. Because I know Mr. Guest is mad about Fay, and of course Sir Arthur had been pretty awful to her, going for her in public, and that sort of thing, and — well, anyway I do think you ought to know about it, because if anyone had a reason for wanting to kill Sir Arthur it was him, or Geoffrey, and not Basil." She wrenched at her handkerchief as she spoke, and added: "Mind, I don't say it was him, because it might just as easily have been Geoffrey. I shan't forget in a hurry what he did when the doctor told him his father had been murdered. I'm not easily shocked, but that just about finished me. He came in through the drawing-room window looking absolutely wild — his face was simply ghastly: dead white; and his eyes all queer and, sort of burning — and he just burst out laughing! He did honestly! It was perfectly awful; I was quite frightened of him. I said so at the time." She glanced up at Harding, and made as if to rise. "Of course, I shouldn't have told you, only that I knew no one else would, and it doesn't seem to me right the way they all try to shield one another, when poor Sir Arthur's been killed like that. Do you want to ask me anything else?"
"No, nothing else, thank you," Harding answered getting up.
"Well, can Basil and I go home? It's frightfully inconvenient for us having to hang about here, and I can't sleep a wink, my nerves are utterly on edge."
"I shall let you go home just as soon as I can," said Harding, and went to open the door for her.
When she had gone the Sergeant said severely that she seemed to him to be real spiteful. In his opinion the evidence against Basil Halliday was strong. He wanted to know what the Inspector thought of it.
Harding refused to say. "The trouble is, they're all lying," he said. "Lady Billington-Smith wants to make me believe she was not on such very bad terms with her husband; young Geoffrey wants me to think that his mood of desperation was caused by Miss de Silva, and had nothing to do with his father; Halliday is trying to shield his wife, who undoubtedly angled for that cheque; and Mrs. Halliday is attempting to throw suspicion on anyone who is not Halliday!" He ran through the papers on the table. "The head housemaid: I think I'll see her next, to check up on Mrs. Halliday's story. Ring, will you?"
It was not many minutes before the starched and rigid Peckham came into the room. She looked prim and uncompromising, and took up a stand before the table. Yes, she perfectly remembered what had happened yesterday morning. She had been packing for Mrs. Halliday when Mrs. Halliday came in to take her hat off.
"What did you do then?" inquired Harding.
A faintly scornful look crossed Peckham's sharp features. "I hope I know my place, sir. Naturally, I left the room immediately."
"Did you go downstairs?"
"I did not, sir. I went into the still-room, opposite, to wait for Mrs. Halliday to go down."
"Did anyone go into Mrs. Halliday's room while she was in it?"
"Not to my knowledge they didn't, sir."
"And when Mrs. Halliday left the room, what did you do?" -
"I went back to finish the packing, till Mr. Halliday came in."
"When was that?"
"I couldn't say for sure, sir. Perhaps five minutes later, perhaps not so long."
"And when he came in you again left the room?"
"Certainly, sir."
"How long was he in the room?"
"Not more than a minute or two, the first time."
"He came back, then?"
"Yes, sir; he came back as I was leaving the room."
"Did you notice anything unusual about him —- any signs of agitation?"
"It is not my place to notice the guests, sir, but I thought Mr. Halliday seemed a little upset. He brushed by me in a rough way, not what I am accustomed to in gentleman, and went into his bathroom, and slammed the door."
"Thank you. One more question before you go: I thing you told the Superintendent yesterday that Mr. Billington-Smith sat in the upper hall for nearly an hour that morning, waiting to be admitted into Miss de Silva's room. Did it strike you that he was in any way upset?"