The Unfinished Clue

by Джорджетт Хейер

  Camilla became a little shrill when she heard the news. She said it was ridiculous for anyone to ask her anything because she knew nothing; she could not see why she and Basil could not go home. Suddenly it had become very inconvenient for her to stay at the Grange; she did not think it fair to expect her to put herself out like this, and at once worked herself into an abortive hatred of the Police Force. Panic evidently possessed her shallow brain, and she displayed quite extraordinary vulgarity in the way she gave way to it. Probably, Dinah thought, she was the type of woman who shrieked wildly in moments of emergency.

  Basil Halliday occasionally begged her irritably for God's sake to be quiet, but he seemed to have not the smallest influence over her. He himself asserted that he thought it clearly a case for Scotland Yard. It was absurd to make a fuss about it. Why should one mind having to answer a few questions? Yet Dinah felt, watching his twitching brows, that he did mind, perhaps more than his wife.

  There was no saying what Stephen Guest thought about it. No hint of emotion disturbed the inscrutability of his countenance when he heard of the Chief Constable's decision. He folded the evening paper open at the middle page with his capable, deliberate fingers, and said: "I thought they'd call in the Yard." That was the only comment he made; he did not seem to be much interested.

  I.ola was also uninterested. She said that policemen did not matter to her, and it was incredible that only a reporter on the local paper had as yet called at the house seeking a story. With him she would have nothing to do; it would perhaps be better if nothing was told to the newspapers until she had seen her press agent. "For it occurs to me," she said seriously, "that it may not be a good thing to put this in the papers. In France it would he a success of the most enormous, but England I do not know so well, and one must ask oneself whether it will make good publicity for me, or, on the contrary, not good at all, but very bad."

  Lola, unlike Camilla, evinced not the slightest desire to leave the Grange. She even forbore to complain any more of the matutinal habits of cocks, though she did once announce that when she was married to Geoffrey the matter would have to be arranged.

  The murder of her host was from her point of view a good thing. Geoffrey would have a great deal of money, which would enable him to marry her, and there need no longer be an inexplicable dearth of absinthe in the house. These conclusions she expressed freely, for, as she very sensibly pointed out, it was good for every one to look on the bright side.

  The absinthe was procured for her by Finch, who informed Dinah apologetically that he had taken it upon himself to ring up the wine-merchant. "For, if I may say so, miss, it will be one worry the less," he said.

  The other matter could not be so easily settled. Geoffrey, Lola discovered, was behaving quite absurdly, and instead of adoring her openly, showed a marked disinclination to be anywhere near her. If she caught his eye he would hurriedly avert his own glance; if she addressed him he answered her in a constrained way. and would immediately begin to talk to someone else. Even the seduction of her beauty failed to rekindle his passion, and when she tried the effect of stealing her arm, about his neck at the foot of the staircase on Mondat night, and whispering: "Kiss me. But kiss me, my Geoffrey!" the result had been anything but happy. He had almost violently disengaged himself, saying: "Don't! Can't you leave me alone? I don't want to touch you! And then, when she had opened her eyes at such odd behaviour, he had said, in a high-pitched, excited voice: "Don't keep on talking about marriage! We're not going to be married. You threw me over when you thought. I hadn't any money, and I saw what a fool I'd been about you. And it absolutely killed my love for you!"

  This was very shocking, quite rude of Geoffrey, and extremely annoying besides, since he spoke in such a loud voice that every one must have been able to hear him. For a moment Lola wavered on the brink of a truly magnificent scene. It would be a splendid end to the day, and she would enjoy a quarrel where one screamed abuse, and hurled vases to the ground. But Geoffrey though excitable, was, after all, English, and probably he would not enter into the spirit of the thing, but instead of shouting too would just walk away, quite disgusted. She curbed herself therefore, and said reproachfully: "But I find you entirely cruel, my dear Geoffrey. You hurt me very much, I assure you,, ut I forgive you, because it is seen that you are not at all yourself."

  After that she had gone upstairs to bed and, meeting Dinah on the landing, had asked her when it would be made known how much money Geoffrey would have.

  Dinah was unable to enlighten her. Geoffrey had rung up the offices of Tremlowe, Tremlowe, Hanson and Tremlowe as soon as the Chief Constable had departed but Mr Horace Tremlowe had not returned from a long week-end, and Mr Gerald Tremlowe hardly expected to see him before eleven o'clock on Tuesday. Geoffrey had sonnewhat incoherently explained his need of Mr Horace Tremlowe, and Mr Gerald, very much shocked, had said "Tut-tut-tut", in a perturbed voice, and promised that Mr Horace Tremlowe, who was both the General's solicitor and executor, would come down to the Grange by the first available train on Wednesday.

  During the course of Tuesday morning Finch was kept busy answering the front door. A great many people drove up, and handed in flowers, or a note for Fay. Nearly all these sympathetic callers told Finch how deeply shocked they were; nearly all supposed that Lady Billington-Smith was not yet receiving visitors, and upon having this guess politely confirmed, drove regretfully away.

  Mrs. Chudleigh did not call, or leave flowers. She rang up instead, and she was not to be put off by a butler. She said that she would like to speak to Miss Fawcett, please, on an important matter. When Dinah went reluctantly to the telephone the important matter was disclosed. The Vicar, said Mrs. Chudleigh, had made her ring up, since he hesitated to intrude at such a moment, and yet wished to come to see Fay. Spiritual consolation, said Mrs. Chudleigh. Dinah declined it for her sister.

  "No doubt you know Lady Billington-Smith's wishes, Miss Fawcett," said the sharp voice at the other end of the wire. "Though I must say I should have thought that such a time — However, I assure you neither my husband nor myself would dream of coming to see your sister unless she expressed a wish to see either of us. No doubt you have been besieged by callers? I know how vulgarly inquisitive people are, and that is why I rang up instead, of leaving a note. Of course, I suppose there will have to be an inquest?"

  "Yes, I'm afraid so," said Dinah patiently.

  "So painful for the family!" said Mrs. Chudleigh. "I hope there is no truth in the story that is going about that the police consider it necessary to call in Scotland Yard . I paid not the slightest attention to it when it repeated to me, but of course you know that Constable Hammond is engaged to Mrs. Darcy's under housemaid?"

  "I didn't know it," said Dinah, "But —"

  "Well, that is undoubtedly how it leaked out. Naturally I told Mrs. Darcy that I was surprised at her listening to mere gossip like that. I suppose it is quite untrue?"

  "No," replied Dinah. "It is perfectly true. I'm sure you'll forgive me, Mrs. Chudleigh, but I'm very busy at the moment, and -"

  "I quite understand!" Mrs. Chudleigh assured her. "Everything must be at sixes and sevens, I am sure. And so objectionable for you to have detectives in the house. Reporters too!"

  "Yes," said Dinah. "Foul. I'll tell Fay you rang up, Mrs. Chudleigh. So kind of you! Good-bye!"

  Later still Mrs. Twining rang up. She wanted merely to know how Fay was, and Geoffrey, and whether her presence had been needed.

  "No, not yet," Dinah replied. "The detective hasn't turned up so far. It'll be quite a relief when he does come if you ask me. This waiting about is getting on everybody's nerves. Are you coming over today, Mrs. Twining?"

  "I think perhaps I had better," said Mrs. Twining in her calm way. "I understood from Fay that I was to hold myself in readiness to answer questions the detective may want to put to me. I am really not very well versed in the etiquette of these affairs. Does a detective come to me, or do I go to him?"

  "I don't kno
w," said Dinah. "But I wish you would come. We — we rather badly want a normal person here."

  "Then I will drive over this afternoon," said Mrs. Twining.

  At luncheon Camilla announced that she had a splitting head, and was going to lie down all the afternoon, and if the detective did actually come at last it was no use expecting her to see him, because she was feeling far too ill to talk to anybody.

  Upon which Lola turned her candid gaze upon her, and said: "I do not find that there is any reason for a detective to see you. You are not at all important, let me tell you, so it's quite foolish for you to create for us any scenes."

  Camilla, pale with anger, said in a trembling voice that she wasn't going to sit there to be insulted, and flounced from the room. After a moment's uncertainty Halliday got up abruptly, and followed her.

  "I am quite pleased that they have gone," said Lola composedly. "They are not at all sympathetic, and besides I am nearly sure that her hair has been dyed."

  That seemed to dispose of Camilla. No one found strength to make any comment on this speech, and the meal was resumed in depressed silence.

  When it was over Dinah took Fay firmly by the hand and led her upstairs to her room. "You're going to lie down till tea-time, my girl," she said. "How much sleep did you get last night?"

  "Not very much," Fay said, with a forced smile. She let Dinah help her to slip off her frock, and huddled herself into a dressing-gown with a little shiver.

  Dinah banked up the pillows on the bed, and patted it invitingly. "Come along, ducky. You'll feel better if you can manage to put in a little sleep."

  Fay came docilely, and lay down. Her wide eyes stole to Dinah's face for a moment, and then sank. "Yes. I expect I shall. Dinah —"

  Dinah took one of her cold hands. "What, darling?"

  "When the detective comes," Fay said carefully, "Do you think I need be there? Of course he will want to see me; I quite realise that. But do you think I need receive him? Could you be there instead? Geoffrey isn't much good, and — and I expect he'll want someone, won't he?"

  "I haven't the foggiest notion," said Dinah, "but I'll be there all right. Don't you worry about it!"

  "Thank you," Fay said.

  Miss Fawcett withdrew, and went downstairs to the telephone. She had remembered that no one had as yet broken the news to her mother.

  Mrs. Fawcett received the tidings characteristically.After her first exclamations of horror and incredulity she said in a faint, injured voice that Dinah should not have told her over the telephone; the shock was too terrible. So Dinah knew then that her parent was enjoying a spell of shattered health, and there would not be the least necessity to dissuade her from instantly coming to Fay's side. Mrs. Fawcett had made attention to her own comfort her primary consideration for so many years that it was extremely doubtful whether anything could break a habit thus firmly embedded. In a plaintive voice that would have led any stranger to suppose her to be on the point of collapse she said that she only wished she could come down at once to be with dearest Fay. Only what, she asked sadly, was the use of her dragging herself on the long, tiring journey when she would have to go to bed the instant she arrived? It would be the sheerest folly, for she was already far from well, and Dinah must surely know how the slightest exertion prostrated her.

  Dinah grinned as she put the receiver down at last. Mother will have a glorious time now, she reflected, picturing Mrs. Fawcett already tottering to the nearest sofa. She'll tell all her friends, and say how terrible it is for her to be tied to her couch, when she would give anything to be here with Fay. And she'll do it awfully well, too, thought Miss Fawcett appreciatively, and went to sit on the terrace till the detective should arrive.

  It was a long time before he came, and she was once more reminded of the dentist's waiting-room. It seemed very improbable that the murder could be brought home to her, but she had all a female's unreasonable mistrust of policemen, and what she had seen of the Superintendent did not lead her to view the advent of another of his tribe with anything but the most profound foreboding. However, on one point she had quite made up her mind: if this person from Scotland Yard thought he was going to ask her questions in a rude, bullying tone he would find that he had made a great mistake.

  By half-past three the feeling of the dentist's waiting room had grown considerably, and when, at a quarter to four, Finch came to inform Geoffrey, who had joined hcon the terrace not long before, that Sergeant Nethersole and the Inspector from Scotland Yard had arrived, Miss Fawcett was aware of a most curious and disagreeable sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  "I suppose I'd better see the fellow, hadn't I?" said Geoffrey. "Not that I can be of any use to him as far as I can see. What's he like Finch?"

  "We shall soon see what he's like for ourselves," said Dinah bracingly. "Come on, I'll go with you." She gave Geoffrey's arm a friendly squeeze. "Don't let yourself get agitated, my child. He can't eat you."

  "Oh, I'm not agitated!" said Geoffrey with a laugh "Only I do hope they haven't sent some frightful bounder down. Where have you put him, Finch?"

  "I showed him into the morning-room, sir. He seems if I may say so, a very quiet gentleman."

  "Well, thank God for that!" said Geoffrey, putting up a nervous hand to his tie. "Come on, Dinah — if you are coming!"

  There were two men in the morning-room, one dressed in a sergeant's uniform, and the other in a lounge suit that bore the indefinable stamp of a good tailor. "Inspector Harding, sir," said Finch, evidently feeling that an introduction was called for.

  "Oh — er — good — afternoon, Inspector!" said Geoffrey "Good afternoon," said Harding pleasantly. He glanced towards Dinah, and found that damsel surveying him with patent surprise.

  Good lord, he is a gentleman! thought Geoffrey. Well, that's something, anyway. He doesn't look such a bad chap, either.

  Miss Fawcett, realising that her frank stare was being returned with a rather amused twinkle, had the grace to blush. She stepped forward, and held out her hand. "How do you do?" she said politely.

  "How do you do, Miss Fawcett," said Harding, shaking hands with her.

  "How on earth did you know I was Miss Fawcett?" asked Dinah, visibly impressed.

  "The butler told me that he would fetch Miss Fawcett," explained Harding gravely.

  "Oh!" said Dinah, disappointed. "I thought you were being hideously clever."

  "No, I'm afraid I wasn't," said Harding apologetically.

  This man, decided Miss Fawcett, is definitely going to be nice.

  Chapter Nine

  Inspector Harding was listening to Geoffrey, voluble and slightly injured. "Of course I know you've got to make inquiries," Geoffrey said, "but I do hope you'll be as quick as you can, because it's frightfully rotten for my stepmother — I mean, she's had a simply ghastly shock, you know — we both have, if it comes to that — and having the house crammed full of visitors makes it all absolutely foul for us. And naturally they don't want to hang about here either. Personally, I can't see -"

  "I shall be as quick as I can be, Mr. Billington-Smith," said Harding, evidently feeling that this rambling harangue might go on indefinitely. "I should like first to inspect the study, please, and then perhaps you will let your butler show me the other rooms on this floor."

  "What on earth do you want to see the other room for?" asked Geoffrey. "Of course, you can if you like, but I must say I don't quite see -"

  "Thank you," said Harding. "I won't keep you am longer now, Mr. Billington-Smith." He turned to Finch, still standing by the door. "Will you take me to the study, please?"

  "Yes, show the Inspector the way, will you, Finch?" said Geoffrey, "If you want me just tell Finch, Inspector — not that I can be much use to you, because I didn't happen to be here when my father was murdered, but if you do want me -"

  "I'll ask Finch to fetch you if I do," said Harding, and he followed the butler out into the hall.

  The constable on duty in the study rose from a chair against
the wall when the door was opened, and brightened perceptibly when he saw the Sergeant. It was a dull job, keeping guard on an empty room.

  The Sergeant told him he could go and wait outside, and then fixed his gaze on the Inspector, standing still by the desk, looking about him.

  "Nothing has been moved, Sergeant, I take it?"

  "Nothing but what the Superintendent showed you down at the station," said the Sergeant.

  "I see." Harding turned. Just a minute before you go, Finch. When you entered this room with Mr. Guest and Mr. Halliday, were these windows shut, or open?"

  "The front windows were open, sir. Sir Arthur never had the side window open when he sat here. I thought it best to shut them when we locked the room up, in case of anyone trying to come in for any purpose."

  "Had you any reason to think that someone might wish to come into the room?"

  The butler hesitated. "Not then, sir — in a manner of speaking."

  "But later you had?"

  "I don't know that I would go so far as to say that, sir, but it did seem to me that Mr. Halliday was not best pleased."

  "What made you think that?" asked Harding.

  "Well, sir, I don't know that I could give any definate reason. Mr. Halliday seemed anxious to get the key in his own hands, to my way of thinking."

  Harding looked consideringly at him for a moment "Mr. Guest, however, agreed with you that the room should be shut up?"

  "Oh yes, sir. It was Mr. Guest who suggested the key should be put into Dr Raymond's charge."

  "And eventually you all left the room together?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Who did actually lock the door?"

  "Mr. Guest, sir. He gave the key to Dr Raymond at once."

  "Did he or you ascertain that the door was locked?"

  "Yes, sir, I did," replied Finch instantly.

  "And there was no possibility that anyone could have unlocked it with any other key than the one belonging to it?"

  "No, sir, none. Sir Arthur had all the locks made different when he built the house."