"I'm sure I never —" began the Sergeant, flustered. Lola smiled kindly at him. "If that is it I do not at all mind, for you must understand that I am quite accustomed to be stared at."
"Miss de Silva, will you sit down?" interposed Harding.
"Yes, in that chair. I want you to try and remember just what happened yesterday morning."
"That is not at all difficult," said Miss de Silva composedly. "I have a very good memory, let me tell you. But I must say that I do not understand why you have not seen me before that stupid woman who I find is not a true blonde in the least, but on the contrary dyes her hair. She is not at all important, and besides she has no sense, for she tells extremely foolish lies. I do not like her, she is to me quite unsympathetic, quite repulsive, but I will tell you that if you think it is she who has stabbed the General you are entirely wrong. For one thing she has not enough courage, and for another she wanted the general to make love to her, and, I think, to give her money. She had not any reason to stab him. It is I to whom he was so cruel who had reason."
The Sergeant looked helplessly at Harding, who, however, preserved a calm front.
"In what way was the General cruel to you, Miss de Silva?"
"I will tell you," replied Lola cordially. "From the moment when I have entered his house he has behaved to me with rudeness and brutality, though partly I blame Geoffrey, who was very foolish not to warn his papa that I do not like gin in my cocktail, but only absinthe. Then at dinner he was quite abominable to me because I would not sit and look at a dead hare with blood on its nose, which I find completely disgusting. And after dinner when I, La Lola, have said that I will dance he was not grateful, not at all, but on the contrary very rude, quite insupportable. I have great patience, so I did not walk straight out of the house, and besides it is not sensible to walk out of the house when it is time to go to bed. So the next day I was very nice to him, very kind, and I talked to him for quite an hour, but in spite of that, and because he was entirely disagreeable and of an immense stupidity, he declared that Geoffrey should not have any money at all if he married me. So you see it is I and not in the least Camilla Halliday who had reason to stab the General."
"I see perfectly," said Harding. "Will you tell me just what happened, when Mr. Billington-Smith informed you of his father's threat?"
"But certainly I will tell you everything. It was a great shock to Geoffrey; he became quite out of his senses, and he tried to come into my bedroom at ten o'clock when he knows perfectly well that I do not see anybody but my maid until eleven. I forgive him because he was distracted."
"Was he distracted when he entered your room, Mis de Silva?"
"I will be very truthful," promised Lola. "You are a policeman, though I find that quite surprising, and it is not wise to tell lies to policemen. That I leave to Camillia Halliday. At first Geoffrey was angry only a little, but when I have pointed out to him that naturally it is impossible that we should be married when he has no longer any money, he became like a lunatic. That may be understood, for I must tell you that he loves me with desperation. I was sorry for him, most sorry for him, but happily it all arranges itself now that the General is dead."
"You are going to marry him, in fact?"
"Naturally I shall marry him, though I must tell you that I am very much upset by what Miss Fawcett says, he will not after all be Sir Geoffrey. It is to me quite incomprehensible."
"Then it is not true that Mr. Billington-Smith no longer wishes to marry you?" asked Harding bluntly.
Lola's lovely eyes opened to their widest extent. "But how could it be? He is a little upset now, one must make allowances for him. Presently he will be very glad, quite transported, to find that our marriage is now possible. If he has told you that he does not want to marry me it is a great piece of nonsense."
She spoke somewhat heatedly, and Harding tactfully introduced a fresh subject. "Tell me, Miss de Silva," he said. "What did you do when Mr. Billington-Smith had left your room?"
"At first I did not do anything, because Geoffrey was very violent, and it was necessary that I should compose myself. Presently Concetta, who is my maid, prepared my bath — and that is another thing that I must tell you: there is not any shower to my bath, and I must share it with Miss Fawcett and Mr. Guest. And after my bath I made my toilette, and when I had made my toilette it was already past one o'clock, and I came downstairs."
"Was your maid with you all the time you were dressing?"
"No, for she had not enough spirit for the machine which makes a fire for my waving-irons, and she was forced to go to the kitchen to get some more. So you see when she was not there it was quite easy for me to go down in my negligee and stab the General. I did not stab the General, because I did not think of it, and besides, in England I find it does not make one popular to kill people."
Harding said gravely: "Thank you for being so frank Miss de Silva. I won't keep you any longer."
"Do you not wish to ask me any more question.", inquired Lola, not best pleased.
"Not just now," answered Harding.
"It does not seem to me that you are a very good policeman," said Lola with austerity.
A twinkle lit Harding's eyes. "Would you like me to put you under arrest, perhaps?"
"As to that," said Lola candidly, "I have not made up my mind. It is a very good thing to have publicity but I must speak first to my agent, whom I have sent for to come immediately and discuss with me this affair."
"I expect that will be best," agreed Harding, and firmly ushered her out.
The Sergeant passed his handkerchief across his brow.
"Lor', sir, if she wasn't a foreign lady, which accounts for it, I'd say she was barmy. And what's more, sir, you can't trust these foreigners. Subtle, that's what they are. Supposing she did do it? What I mean to say is, who's to suspect her after the way she goes pointing out that shy might have done it?"
"Well, if she did do it, Sergeant, it's for us to find the proof." Harding tapped his fingers lightly on the table, considering. "It isn't a nice case," he said presently. "I think I'll see Miss Fawcett."
"Yes, sir. But she's the only person who couldn't have done it," the Sergeant pointed out respectfully. "That we do know."
"I wasn't suggesting her as a possible suspect, Sergeant. But she seemed to me, from the glimpse I had of her, to be perhaps the only person in this house who might be trusted to give a plain, unvarnished account of what happened here yesterday. Ask the butler to find her, will you?"
Miss Fawcett did not keep Inspector Harding waiting long. She appeared in about five minutes' time, and said at once in her friendliest way: "I say, have you had any tea? Do detectives drink tea? Because if so, please shout, and I'll send for some."
Harding regarded her with amusement. "Thank you very much, but detectives never have tea when on duty."
Dinah grinned. "I thought perhaps they didn't. Do you want me for anything special? I'm stiff with alibis, you know. Which," she added reflectively, "is rather a good thing, as a matter of fact, because I didn't hit it off with Arthur at all."
"Was he very unpleasant, Miss Fawcett?"
"Yes," said Dinah. "He was a stinker. To tell you the truth, I rather hope you won't find out who killed him, because it's no use being sentimental and talking a whole lot of de mortuis rot — it's a jolly good thing for everybody all round that he is dead."
"For everybody?" said Harding.
"Well, for most of us, anyway. It's a good thing for Geoffrey because now he'll be free to do as he likes without being roared at; and it's a good thing for Francis (that's Geoffrey's cousin), because I should think Arthur has left him some money; and it's a good thing for Fay because he was a loathly husband."