The Inspector looked narrowly at this. It bore a monogram composed of the letters S and H. "Any fingerprints?" he asked.
"No, sir."
"What, none?"
"No, sir. I reckon they got rubbed off."
"I suppose they must have. All right, I'll take charge of it."
"Yes, sir," said the young detective.
"And I'll see Miss Paula Herriard again. Send her in!"
This second summons to the morning-room apparently discomposed Paula, for she came in presently with a heightened colour, and more than her usual impetuosity. Without giving the Inspector time to speak, she demanded angrily what more he could possibly want with her. "I call it utter incompetence!" she said, scorn vibrating in her voice.
The Inspector was unmoved by this stricture. Plenty of people, he reflected, when they were frightened tried to conceal it under a blustering manner. He thought, watching her restless hands and over-brilliant eyes, that Paula was decidedly frightened. "I should like to go over your evidence again, miss," he said, turning back the pages of his notebook.
"Bright!" she commented, with a sharp, unmirthful laugh.
He paid no heed; she didn't even annoy him; in fact, the more she lost her temper the better pleased he would be. "You stated, miss, that when you went up to your room to change for dinner, you didn't come out of it again until you joined the rest of the party in the drawing-room."
Her eyes were fixed on him, neverr wavered from his face, but he thought she breathed more rapidly. "Well?"
"Do you wish to add anything to that?" asked the Inspector, giving her back look for look.
He had rattled her, just as he'd known he would. He could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the halfconcealed alarm. He could have sworn she'd play for time, and she did, saying defensively: "Why should I?"
"My information is that you were seen coming away from the deceased's bedroom in your dressing-gown," he answered, at his most stolid.
He was startled by the sudden leap of flame into her eyes, the rush of colour to her cheeks. She was a dangerous piece of goods, and no mistake! he thought.
"My God, what does this house do to people? Who's been spying on me? Did I have a bloodstained dagger in my hand?"
He was shocked by her brutality, but although he was not an imaginative man, he thought he could readily picture her as a villainess in the kind of good oldfashioned melodrama you never seemed to see nowadays. He replied dampingly: "No, miss."
"You astonish me! Now tell me this: Was I seen coming out of my uncle's room? Was I?"
"Never mind asking me questions, miss, if you please! Did you go to your uncle's room after you had gone upstairs to change for dinner?"
"No, I didn't. I went to the door of his room, and no further."
"How was that, miss?"
She jerked up one shoulder. "He wouldn't let me in. I suppose he was dead."
"When you say he wouldn't let you in, what do you mean?"
"Oh my God, must you have every I dotted, and every T crossed? The door was locked; he didn't answer when I knocked."
"Did you speak to him?"
"I don't know. Yes, I think so. I said, "It's I, Paula," or something of that sort. What does it matter?"
He ignored this. "And he didn't answer?"
"I've already said so."
"Didn't that strike you as a bit queer?"
"No."
"When you knocked on his door, and called to, him, and he didn't answer, you didn't think it in any way queer?" he persisted.
"No, I tell you!" She saw that he was incredulous, and added in a goaded voice: "I knew he didn't want to see me."
"Why not?"
"That's got nothing to do with you!"
"Oh yes, it has, miss! The fact is that you were wanting money from your uncle, which he wouldn't give you, and you'd quarrelled with him on account of it. Isn't that so?"
"You know it all, don't you?" she sneered.
"I advise you to consider your position," he said.
"There's nothing to consider! You can't prove I ever went into my uncle's room! All you can prove is that we quarrelled, and if you take the trouble to enquire a little farther into our affairs, you'll find that we've quarrelled hundreds of times before!"
"Let me remind you, miss, that when I first asked you what you did when you got upstairs this evening, you never said a word about going to your uncle's room."
"No! Because I could see from the look of you what sort of a fool you'd make of yourself if I told you that!"
She had succeeded at last in nettling him. He told her that she had better be careful what she said, but when she ironically thanked him for his warning, and asked if he had anything more to say, prudence made him swallow his irritation, and reply in an even tone that she might go.
The young detective, who had been a silent spectator of this scene, remarked that she was a hard-boiled dame. The Inspector grunted, refusing to commit himself.
"I thought you'd have pushed her a bit more, sir," ventured the detective.
"I daresay you did. The difference between us is that I wasn't born yesterday," replied the Inspector. "There's no knowing with her sort. Send Roydon in to me!"
Willoughby strolled in presently, with the butt of a cigar between his fingers, and addressed the Inspector with a rather overacted air of tolerance. "Well, Inspector, what is it now?" he said.
Confronted with the valet's evidence, he changed colour, but said with more annoyance than guilt: "Look here, what are you getting at? If you think I went to Mr. Herriard's room, you're damned well wrong!"
"When I put the question to you, sir, you stated that you did not leave your room until you came down to dinner. I have reason to believe that you did."
"Naturally when you asked me that I thought you meant did I go to Mr. Herriard's room!"
"But that wasn't what I asked you sir. Did you or did you not leave your room before you went down to the drawing-room?"
"Oh well, if you insist on such accuracy, yes, I did! Not that it has the least bearing on the case, which is why I didn't mention it."
"I'll be the judge of that, thank you, sir. Why did you leave your room? Where did you go to?"
"Good God, where do you suppose I went to?" asked Roydon. "You policemen must be pretty hard-up for clues if you're reduced to suspecting a man just because he is a man and not an angel!"
"Oh!" said the Inspector, rather blankly. "Seems to me you might have told me that before, sir."
"I probably should have if I'd remembered it," said Roydon. "And if that's all you want to know -"
"A minute ago, sir, you said you would have told me if you'd thought it had any bearing on the case."
"Well, so I should have, only it hadn't, which is probably why I forgot it," replied Roydon. "Is there anything else?"
"That'll be all for the present," said the Inspector.
Roydon walked out of the room. The young detective remarked that it looked fishy to him. "Telling lies like that, for no reason!"
"People do," said the Inspector. "Afraid of getting mixed up in things. I don't see my way yet, and that's a fact." His eye alighted on the gold cigarette-case. He picked it up. "Where's Esher taking the finger-prints?"
"In the library. The old gentleman showed him in there. Miss Dean kicked up a fuss about it. The old man had his work cut out, jollying her along. Esher ought to be about through by this time."
"We'll go and have a look," said the Inspector, moving towards the door.
He arrived in the library in time to see Mathilda submitting her well-manicured hand to the expert.
"Of course, I quite see that this will seriously cramp my style if ever I decide to take to a life of crime," she said.
"If you think that that's why I absolutely loathe the idea of having mine done -" began Valerie hotly, and broke off at sight of the Inspector.
Mathilda glanced over her shoulder. "Ah, Torquemada in person!"
Joseph went up to the Inspec
tor, saying: "Come in, Inspector! We're just finishing, as you can see."
"Very sorry to have to ask you to submit to this, sir, but -"
"Nonsense! Of course we understand that it must be!" "Well, I think it's absolutely degrading!" interrupted Valerie. "As though one was a common criminal, or something! I never thought I should be so insulted!" Even Joseph's patience showed signs of cracking. He said with a touch of asperity: "My dear child, don't be a silly little goose! Do you want any of us, Inspector? Can you tell me anything, or mustn't I ask?"
"Nothing to tell you so far, sir. I would like to know which of you gentlemen owns this, if you please."
They all looked at the cigarette-case. The monogram was plainly to be read. The Inspector's gaze was fixed on Stephen. Stephen was looking at the case; his harsh face gave nothing away. Joseph, after one glance, cast a swift, startled look at Mathilda, half-questioning, half-appalled.
"Well, it's not mine!" said Roydon.
"It's mine," said Stephen coolly, raising his eyes to the Inspector's. "Where did you find it?"
"Had you mislaid it, sir?"
Stephen did not answer for a moment. Joseph said with uneasy jocularity: "I don't suppose he knows whether he had or not! I'm afraid my nephew's always leaving things about, aren't you, Stephen? Where did you pick it up, Inspector? We don't want any mysteries, if you don't mind!"
"It was discovered, sir, in the late Mr. Herriard's bedroom," replied the Inspector.
Joseph's airy manner momentarily deserted him. He gave a gasp, and said in a hurry: "Oh, there might be dozens of explanations to account for that! Why - why, my nephew probably put it down there when we were in the room together, or very likely - or at least quite possibly my brother found it lying somewhere, and took it up, meaning to give it back to him. Oh, I can think of any number of explanations!"
"Well, don't!" said Stephen ungratefully. "Mind telling me precisely where this was found, Inspector?"
"It was lying on the floor, half under the chair by the fire."
"Oh, then the thing's perfectly plain!" said Joseph, still labouring in Stephen's defence. "I expect it slipped out of your pocket, old man, and in the agitation of the moment you didn't notice it. When you were bending over poor Nat. That would be it!"
"The case was not found anywhere near the body of the deceased, sir," interpolated the Inspector.
"Oh! Well, I daresay it got kicked across the room," said Joseph, in a despairing way. "I'm sure we were all so much upset that anything could have happened! Stephen, why don't you say something? There's nothing in this! We all know that! There's no need to be silly about it! All the Inspector wants to know is -"
"So far, I've had damned little chance of saying anything," said Stephen. "If you've quite finished handing out a line of talk which wouldn't convince a half-wit, I will state two facts. I don't know how my case got into my uncle's room. It did not fall out of my pocket, possibly because my agitation didn't lead me to stand on my head, but more certainly because I hadn't it on me when I entered the room."
The Inspector took no trouble to conceal his scepticism. Joseph plunged again into deep waters. "Depend upon it, my brother took it upstairs with him! Really, there's no need -"
"And dropped it on the floor, sir?"
"Pushed it under the chair, apparently," said Stephen.
"Or is that what I'm supposed to have done, Inspector?" "I wouldn't say that," answered the Inspector. "It might have fallen off the chair - if someone sitting there thought he'd put it in his pocket, but happened to drop it into the chair instead, and then got up. Someone a bit careless, maybe."
"I object to that!" Joseph interrupted. "That's deliberately twisting a perfectly innocent remark of mine to mean something I never intended, and which is absurd - quite absurd!"
"Shut up!" said Stephen. "I admit it's my case; I accept your statement that it was found in my uncle's room. So what, Inspector?"
"You'd better consider your position, sir."
Mathilda, who had preserved a somewhat ominous silence throughout this interchange, moved forward. "Quite finished?" she enquired. "Because if so I'll speak my little piece. I saw Mr. Stephen Herriard give his cigarette-case to Miss Dean before ever he left the drawing-room after tea."
Stephen laughed. Valerie said furiously: "You shan't put it on to me! I never had his beastly case! I left it on the table! I don't know what became of it! He probably picked it up before he went out of the room. You're the filthiest, meanest beast I ever met, Mathilda Clare!"
"And you, my little pet," said Mathilda, with great cordiality, "are a bitch!"
Chapter Eight
The Inspector looked a good deal taken aback by this exchange of compliments. It did not fit in with his ideas of how the gentry behaved, and he made no attempt to cope with the situation. Roydon seemed to share his feelings, but Paula, who had stalked into the library at the outset of hostilities, said in approving accents: "Good for you, Mathilda!"
As usual it was Joseph who had to intervene. He shook his head at Mathilda, although with a sympathetic twinkle in his eye, and suggested to Valerie that she was overwrought.
"She's trying to make you think I murdered Mr. Herriard!" said Valerie tearfully.
"My dear child, no one could possibly think anything so absurd!" Joseph assured her: "Nobody as pretty as you could be suspected of hurting a fly!"
She was a little mollified by this tribute, and when Roydon said emphatically "Hear, hear!" she threw him a pathetic smile, and said: "Oh, I don't know about that, but I don't even remember Stephen's giving me his case, and I certainly never took it out of the room. It's much more likely that I simply tossed it back to him."
"Oh, it is, is it?" said Mathilda. "Why "tossed"?"
Valerie's face turned crimson. "I don't know. I -"
"Yes, you do. You know perfectly well that Stephen threw his case over to you. So let's have less of this convenient aphasia!"
Valerie flung round to face Stephen. "Are you going to stand there allowing that woman to insult me?" she demanded.
"Where on earth did you dig out a line like that?" enquired Paula.
"She's got a lousy taste in literature," Stephen explained. "Mathilda, I forbid you to insult my intended."
"You and who else?" retorted Mathilda crudely.
"Children, children!" implored Joseph.
The Inspector cleared his throat. "If you please, ladies! Miss Dean, is it a fact that Mr. Stephen Herriard gave his cigarette-case to you before he went up to change?"
"I tell you I don't know! I simply don't remember! Anyway, I never took it out of the room!"
Maud, who had come into the library behind Paula, said in her flattened voice: "You asked him for a cigarette, dear, and he threw his case over to you."
"You're all against me!" Valerie declared, tears spangling the ends of her lashes.
"No, dear, but it is always better to speak the truth. I have often thought it a pity that girls should smoke so much. It is very bad for the complexion, but I make it a rule never to interfere in what doesn't concern me."
"Let that be a lesson to you!" Paula said to Valerie, quite in Stephen's manner.
The Inspector, possibly feeling that of all the women present Maud was the most rational, turned to her, and asked: "Did you see what Miss Dean did with the case, madam?"
"No," Maud replied. "I expect something happened to divert my attention. Not that I was watching particularly, because there was no reason why I should."
"If she had given the case back to Mr. Herriard, do you think you would have noticed it?"
"Oh no, I don't suppose I should!"
"She didn't give it back to him," Mathilda said. "Well, what did she do with it, miss?"
"I don't know. Like Mrs. Herriard, I didn't notice."
"I simply put it on the table!" Valerie said. "Willoughby was in the middle of reading his play. I don't know what became of it afterwards."
"Look here, miss!" said the Inspector patiently.
"We'll get this settled once and for all, if you please! Did Mr. Herriard give you his case, or did he not?"
"I don't call it giving me his case just because I asked him for a cigarette, and he hadn't the decency to get up and hand me one, but just chucked his case at me! And I don't see why -"
"He did throw his case to you?"
"Yes, but -"
"Then don't keep on saying you don't remember!" said the Inspector severely. "Now then, sir: are you sure you hadn't got the case on you when you left the room?"
"Perfectly."
"That's true!" Joseph exclaimed. "Now I come to think of it, you asked him for a cigarette, Paula, when we came down from poor Nat's room, and he put his hand in his pocket, as though to pull out his case, and then just nodded to the box -"He stopped short, as the infelicitous nature of his testimony apparently dawned on him. "Not that that proves anything!" he added, in a hurry.
"No, sir," agreed the Inspector dryly, and turned from him to Valerie again. "You say you put the case down on the table, miss -"
"I didn't say I actually did! I only said I most probably did!" replied Valerie, who seemed to have decided that her only safety lay in prevarication. "And it's no use badgering me, because —'
"Valerie, my child!" Joseph said, taking one of her hands, and holding it between both of his. "The Inspector only wants to get at the truth of what happened! You mustn't think that you'll be incriminating anyone just by telling him quite frankly what you did with Stephen's case."
"I don't care about that," said Valerie, stating a self evident fact. "But I know quite well Mathilda's trying to put it onto me, and it isn't fair!"
"No, no; Tilda never had any such idea, had you, Tilda? She knows you couldn't have done it."
It now seemed good to Paula to pour oil on sinking flames. "Indeed!" she ejaculated. "How, may I ask, does she know that?"
"Good God, Paula, she hasn't got the guts, let alone the ingenuity!" replied Mathilda.
"Mathilda! Paula!" expostulated Joseph despairingly. "No, really! Really, my dears!"
"Oh yes, I've no doubt you both think I'm a fool!" said Valerie. Just because I don't do the things you do! But as a matter of fact I very nearly went to college, and I should have, only that it seemed the most frightful waste of time!"
Envious Casca ih-2 Page 12