"And a good thing for Mr. Guest?"
Dinah looked at him sharply. "No, I didn't say it was a good thing for him. I don't suppose he's been left anything."
Harding sat down on the edge of the table. "Miss Fawcett, I'm going to be quite frank with you, and I have hopes that you will be frank with me. So far I've interviewed a number of people who all had the motives and the opportunity to commit this murder. Not one of them, with the possible exception of Mrs. Twining and the head-housemaid, told me the whole truth. Now, I'll ask you one or two questions, will you try and answer them honestly?"
Dinah considered the matter. "Well, I can't promise to answer them, but I won't lie, anyway, Inspector. Look here do you mind if I call you Mr. Harding?"
The Sergeant waited confidently for the official snub he knew would be dealt out.
"You can call me anything you like," said Inspector Harding, smiling down at Miss Fawcett.
The Sergeant regarded him in pained surprise, but concluded that the Inspector probably had his reason.
"Thanks," said Dinah. "What do you want me to tell you?"
Harding folded his arms across his chest, and looked meditatively at her for a few moments. "I think I'll tell you what I know first," he said.
"Why?" inquired Dinah, mystified.
"Because I think you'll be much more open with me if you realise that it's no use trying to conceal certain facts. To start with, I know that the General didn't get on with his son, but seemed to prefer his nephew; I know that he disapproved violently of Miss de Silva, and behaved towards her with unparalleled cruelty."
"How much?" interrupted Dinah.
Harding replied with perfect gravity: "No absinthe, no shower in her bathroom, dead hares, and -"
" Did she tell you all that?" said Dinah. "Don't you think she's rather good value?"
"Yes, but she wastes my time. I know that young Billirigton-Smith sat outside her door holding his head in his hands for an hour after his father had disinherited him, I know he left the house in an extremely overwrought condition, and had hysterics when he returned. I know that Mrs. Halliday was encouraging the General to flirt with her, and that Halliday loathed it. I know that your sister had a quarrel with the General yesterday morning that upset her very much, and I know also — I am being perfectly straightforward, Miss Fawcett — that she and Guest are in love with each other. Does that clear the air at all?"
Dinah grimaced. "You know too much, Mr. Harding. What on earth is there left for me to tell you?"
"You're going to tell me your version of what happened yesterday —- bearing in mind that I've received from one at least of the people I've mentioned , a highly coloured account."
"Yes, but I don't want to say anything that might make you suspect Fay, or Stephen, or even Geoffrey of having done the murder," objected Dinah frankly.
"Remember, Miss Fawcett, that I've already enough data about all these people to make me suspect them."
"Well, go ahead," sighed Dinah, folding her hands in her lap.
"We'll start with a talk you had with Geoffrey Billington-Smith on Saturday, outside Miss de Silva's bedroom door. Is it a fact that he threatened to do something desperate if his father interfered between him and Miss de Silva?"
"That," commented Dinah, "sounds to me like that ass of a housemaid, Dawson. I wonder where she was lurking?"
"Never mind about the ass of a housemaid," said Harding, with the hint of a smile in his eyes. "Did he say something to that effect?"
"Yes — a lot of dramatic stuff. I've noticed that ineffectual people usually do go in for highfalutin threats."
"Is he ineffectual?"
"Ghastly. No guts at all," said Miss Fawcett elegantly. "So I inferred. At the same time, he's undoubtedly very emotional. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, but it's the sort of emotionalism that raves instead of doing anything. I've no use for Geoffrey, but I honestly don't think he killed Arthur, Mr. Harding."
"We'll hope not, anyway. Now about this week-end party: was the atmosphere very thunderous?"
"Rather! It always is when Arthur's on the rampage."
"Did he take it out of your sister?"
"More or less."
"In public?"
"Anywhere."
"And yesterday morning it culminated in a more than usually serious quarrel with her?"
"You've got that bit wrong," said Dinah. "Fay couldn't quarrel with anybody, and certainly not with Arthur. I wasn't present, so I don't know exactly what happened. but from what I can gather she tried to intercede for Geoffrey, and he flew straight away into a rage, and stormed at her about everything and anything. He was like that, you know."
"It upset your sister?"
"Yes, thoroughly. I put her back to bed, because she was too weepy to come down to breakfast'
"She didn't seem to be resentful?"
"Lord, no! Just over at the knees."
"I see. And what about Guest?"
"Well, if you must know," replied Dinah, "he's the faithful swain. Inarticulate, and a bit of a poop. He might easily have knocked Arthur's teeth out, but somehow I don't see him stabbing him in the back."
"Forgive me, Miss Fawcett, but was there never any talk of divorce between your sister and Sir Arthur?"
"On account of Stephen? No, never. There ought to have been, but Fay would never face the scandal. I am absolutely convinced, Mr. Harding, that nothing would induce Fay to take any action that would lead to — well, this sort of unpleasantness."
He met her look. "Quite, Miss Fawcett. Tell me, did you see the cut on Guest's wrist yesterday?"
"No, of course I didn't. Camilla and Fay yapped at him to show it them, but naturally he wouldn't do any such thing. He's frightfully he-mannish, is Stephen. Loathes a fuss."
"And the Hallidays?"
"She's a gold-digger, and he's nervy and a bit jealous. Dotes on her."
"Mrs. Twining?"
"Mrs. Twining?" repeated Dinah. "What do you want to know about her?"
"Anything you can tell me," said Harding.
"I don't think I can. I hardly know her. She's an old friend of Arthur's, and she came to live here about a year after he did. I've always imagined that she could tell some pretty ripe tales about him if she wanted to because he was much more polite to her than to anyone else."
"Do you know why it was she who went to fetch the General on to the terrace?"
"Yes, of course I do. She came specially to talk to him about Geoffrey, because she was about the only person he'd listen to. That's what makes me think he was a bit afraid of her."
"Is there a Mr. Twining?"
"Colonel. He's dead."
"I see. Tell me what happened when she went to the General's study. How long was she gone?"
Dinah pondered this. "I'm not sure. We were all talking. I should think, about five minutes, or even a little longer."
"And when she came back-was she very much upset:'
"Yes, I think she was. In fact, I'm certain she was. She's awfully self-controlled, and doesn't give away much but she looked pretty queer. I'm not surprised: she actually touched Arthur before she realised he was dead, and her glove was all over blood. Luckily she's strong-minded enough not to have fainted on the spot."
Harding nodded rather absently. He did not say anything for a minute or two, and Miss Fawcett. respecting this mood of abstraction, sat and studied him in silence. Aware presently of her clear gaze, he glanced down at her, and smiled. "Has Billington-Smith broken off his engagement to Miss de Silva?" he asked.
"He says he's had a revulsion of feeling," replied Dinah. "It's all rather trying (though quite humorous), because the mere sight of Lola sends him flying, and she's got a habit of tracking him down and — and wreathing her arms round him, so to speak."
"His passion for the lady seems to have been somewhat transient," remarked Harding dryly.