'Excuse me, sir,' said Masters.
Mr Spiller, withdrawing his meditative gaze from the spouting water, looked inquiringly at the man-servant, who stood in a respectful attitude beside him.
'If it is convenient to you, sir, I should wish to have my bedroom changed. I should wish to sleep indoors.'
'Oh?' said Mr Spiller. 'Why is that, Masters?'
'I am subject to be a light sleeper, sir, ever since the war, and I find the creaking of the weather-vane very disturbing.'
'It creaks, does it?'
'Yes, sir. On the night that Mr Gooch sustained his unfortunate accident, sir, the wind changed at a quarter past eleven. The creaking woke me out of my first sleep, sir, and disturbed me very much.'
A coldness gripped Mr Spiller at the pit of the stomach. The servant's eyes, in that moment, reminded him curiously of Gooch. He had never noticed any resemblance before.
'It's a curious thing, sir, if I may say so, that, with the wind shifting as it did at 11.15, Mr Gooch's body should have become sprayed by the fountain. Up till 11.15, the spray was falling on the other side, sir. The appearance presented was as though the body had been placed in position subsequently to 11.15, sir, and the fountain turned on again.'
'Very strange,' said Mr Spiller. On the other side of the lilac hedge, he heard the voices of Betty and Ronald Proudfoot, chattering as they paced to and fro between the herbaceous borders. They seemed to be happy together. The whole house seemed happier, now that Gooch was gone.
'Very strange indeed, sir. I may add that, after hearing the inspector's observations, I took the precaution to dry your dress trousers in the linen-cupboard in the bathroom.'
'Oh, yes,' said Mr Spiller.
'I shall not, of course, mention the change of wind to the authorities, sir, and now that the inquest is over, it is not likely to occur to anybody, unless their attention should be drawn to it: I think, sir, all things being taken into consideration, you might find it worth your while to retain me permanently in your service at--shall we say double my present wage to begin with?'
Mr Spiller opened his mouth to say, 'Go to Hell,' but his voice failed him. He bowed his head.
'I am much obliged to you, sir,' said Masters, and withdrew on silent feet.
Mr Spiller looked at the fountain, with its tall water wavering and bending in the wind.
'Ingenious,' he muttered automatically, 'and it really costs nothing to run. It uses the same water over and over again.'
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Document ID: 231b5671-a0ee-4601-90fb-d0b8c0a44eb0
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Hangman's Holiday lpw-9 Page 20