The Unfinished Clue

by Джорджетт Хейер

  "Had he returned, can you remember, by the time Finch brought out the tray of cocktails?"

  She made a little gesture with her hand. "Again, I am uncertain. I don't think I noticed his return. He was certainly on the terrace just before one. That is all I can say."

  Harding looked up. "He might have been absent for half an hour, in fact?"

  "Oh no!" she said. "I should certainly have noticed that."

  "And no one else left the terrace until you yourself went to fetch Sir Arthur?"

  "No," she answered. "No one."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Twining. Now as to your own movements: you went to fetch Sir Arthur on to the terrace. Had you any particular reason for wanting to see him?"

  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."

  "Sometimes, Lady Billington-Smith, a man who has been very much angered is apt to vent his feelings on a perfectly innocent person. Is that what happened?"

  She hesitated. "He was very angry," she repeated.

  "So angry that he upset you?"

  "it wasn't that — only partly! It is true I was a little upset yesterday morning. I have not been very well, and I had had a trying week-end. My husband — had a violent way of- of expressing himself. He shouted when he was at all irritated, and — it made my head ache. That is all."

  "The cause of this violent irritation was, I think, his son's engagement to Miss de Silva?"

  "Yes," Fay replied. "He was dreadfully angry with Geoffrey, and I — rather foolishly — tried to reason with him.,

  "I quite understand. You were afraid that a really serious quarrel might spring up between your stepson and his father?"

  "Oh no, no!" Fay said quickly. "I knew that Geoffrey would never quarrel with his father. He was too much in awe of him. I was afraid that Arthur — that my husband might turn him out of the house. He was — in some ways — a very hard man."

  Harding picked up his pencil, and regarded the point of it. "Lady Billington-Smith, you must forgive me if I distress you, but was this the only cause of the scene which took place between you and Sir Arthur? There was not, on your side, any feeling of jealousy?"

  "Jealousy?" she repeated blankly.

  He raised his eyes. "You were not yourself angry perhaps hurt — at any undue attention Sir Arthur might have paid to one of your guests?"

  She flushed. "No. I was not- angry, or hurt. Certainly not jealous. My husband had a — a playful, gallant way of — of treating women, but it didn't mean anything. Such an idea never entered my head. It was purely on Geoffrey's account, the — the scene."

  "Then that is all I wish to know about that, Lady Billington-Smith. At what time did you eventually cone downstairs yesterday morning?"

  "I didn't come down till my husband called to me, but I was out of my room before that, speaking to the head housemaid upstairs."

  "So that you don't know what happened between Sir Arthur and his son?"

  "No."

  "When he called to you, what time was that?"

  "It must have been just before twelve. He had just come in with — with Mrs. Halliday, and he wanted me to see that she had some roses to take away with her when she left."

  "Mrs. Halliday was with him at the time?"

  "Yes, but she went upstairs to her room to take her hat off. Then my husband went into his study. He said he did not want to be disturbed. It was the first of the month, you see, and he always made up his accounts, and paid the staff on that day. I remember now, it was ten minutes to twelve, because he — he called my attention to the time, saying he had wasted so much of the morning already. Then I went -"

  "One moment," interposed Harding. "Was Sir Arthur still angry with you at this time?"

  "He was — a little testy. Nothing, really."

  Harding picked up a typewritten-sheet, headed Statement of Charles Thomson, footman. "I will put it to you quite frankly. Lady Billington-Smith: did Sir Arthur, when Mrs. Halliday had gone upstairs, speak to you very roughly, finding fault with the way you behaved towards your guests, and accusing you of lying in bed "till all hours"?"

  "I believe he did say something like that," Fay replied in a suffocating voice.

  "And did you answer that you couldn't bear it, that he was driving you out of your mind?"

  Her eyes were fixed on his face with an expression of wondering dread in them. "I don't remember. If I did, I didn't mean it. Perhaps I said it. I was — momentarily annoyed with my husband for speaking to me rather rudely. One — one does say silly, theatrical things sometimes, when one is at all on edge."

  "Yes, very often," Harding agreed, laying the footman's statement down again. "Your husband entered his study, then, at ten minutes to twelve. What did you do?"

  "I went into the garden, and through the garden-hall, to find Lester, the head gardener."

  "Had you any idea where he was to be found?"

  "No, I asked the under-gardener. He was just taking vegetables to the kitchen."

  "And he was able to tell you?"

  "Yes, he said that Lester was in the kitchen-garden."

  "Is that any distance from the house, Lady Billington-Smith?"

  She looked at him, a worried frown in her eyes. "No. It's at the side of the house, about two minutes' walk from the garden-hall."

  "How long did it take you to deliver Sir Arthur's message to Lester?"

  "Well, I don't — A minute, I suppose."

  "Did you say anything else to him?"

  "I told him that Sir Arthur wanted him to mow the front lawn."

  "Nothing else?"

  "No. No, I'm sure that was all."

  "And when you had delivered both these message. what did you do next?"

  "I went through the kitchen-garden to the back of the house. Mrs. Twining and my sister were crossing the lawn, and they called to me."

  "Lady Billington-Smith, you left the house by way of the garden-hall just after ten minutes to twelve. Mrs. Twining did not arrive until ten minutes past twelve, and it cannot have been less than twenty-five, or at the minimum twenty minutes past twelve when you joincd her on the lawn. What were you doing during that hall hour?"

  Fay's hands crept along the arms of her chair, any I gripped them nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mislead you, Inspector. I didn't go to look for Lesser at once. I went into the orchard."

  "Why?" said that calm voice.

  She moistened her lips. "I didn't feel I could face anybody just then. I — I was rather upset."

  "By what Sir Arthur had just said to you?"

  "I — yes, a little. I wasn't feeling at all well. Perhaps I am rather easily upset. I went into the orchard because I wanted to be alone, and — and I knew I should be bound to meet someone in the house, or — or in the gardens."

  "Did anyone see you go into the orchard?"

  "I — I don't know. I don't think so. I didn't notice anyone." She stared at him. "You don't think — you don't think -"

  "I don't think anything yet, Lady Billington-Smith. When you met Mrs. Twining and Miss Fawcett, what did you do?"

  "We all went up on to the terrace. Mrs. Halliday was there with Mr. Guest. Mr. Guest is a connection of my husband's. Then Mrs. Chudleigh arrived, to speak to me about the Children's Holiday Fund. Oh, and I think Mrs. Halliday must have come on to the terrace just about then. I'm not quite sure. I had a very bad headache."

  "Did anyone leave the terrace between then and one o'clock?"

  "Mrs. Chudleigh went away. Oh, and Mr. Guest went indoors for a few minutes to fetch his tobacco."

  "Would you say that was before Mrs. Chudleigh left, or after?"

  "I don't know. I can't quite remember. Before, I think but I'm not sure."

  "Was Mr. Guest gone long?"

  "Oh no, not more than a minute or two. He just went up to his room to get his pouch, that was all."

  "Had he returned when Mrs. Chudleigh got up to go.?"

  "I really can't remember, Inspector. I'm not even sure that she didn't go first. I wasn't paying much attention."Fay said, a little breathlessly.

  "Try and remember, Lady Billington-Smith, whether Mr. Guest was on the terrace when the butler came ow with the cocktails."

  "Oh, I think he must have been! I don't exactly remember, but I know he was only away a very little while," Fay said. "I'm sorry to be so vague. You must forgive me, but — this has be
en a dreadful shock to me and I find it very hard to — to think back over what happened yesterday."

  "I know, and I'm not going to worry you any more now, Lady Billington-Smith," Harding said, rising, and going towards the door. "I should like to see your stepson next."

  "I'll tell him," she said. In the doorway she hesitated. "I — perhaps I ought to warn you that Geoffrey is rather excitable. He was terribly shocked by the news of his father's death. I hope you won't — I hope you need not…"

  "I'll be as considerate as I can," Harding promised.

  "Thank you," she said, and went out.

  When she had gone there was a moment's silence . Harding came back to the table, frowning slightly. The Sergeant scratched his cheek, and presently said: "I never heard anyone say anything against her ladyship, sir. Very well spoken of, she is, and always has been. At the same time, I wouldn't say that the General didn't try her pretty far, because by all one hears that wouldn't be the truth. Very far he tried her."

  "You know her better than I do, Sergeant."

  "Well, sir, that's a fact, and if you was to ask me, I should say her ladyship wouldn't hurt a flea."

  "At the same time," Harding said, "she is in an extremely overwrought condition. If half of what the servants deposed in the statements the Superintendent look is true it wouldn't be very difficult to believe that she was goaded to the pitch of murder."

  The Sergeant thought it over. "To my mind, sir, it wasn't her. More likely to be that foreign hussy, or this Mr. Halliday."

  At this moment the door opened to admit Geoffrey, who came in with an air of nonchalance only too palpably assumed, and broke straightway into speech. "Oh, I understand you want to see me! The trouble is I can't really be of much use to you, Inspector — I say, I absolutely can't go on calling you Inspector, Mr. Harding. It sounds so utterly wrong — I mean -" He glanced towards the Sergeant, and ended lamely: "Oh well, you know!"

  "I think, if you don't mind, we'll stick to Inspector, Mr. Billington-Smith," said Harding unresponsively. "Will you sit down, please?"

  "Oh, just as you like!" Geoffrey said, a trifle sulkily. He cast himself into the chair, and began to play with his tie again. "I'm quite ready to answer anything I can — er — Inspector. I expect you've seen my original statement, haven't you?"