Hugh lifted his brows. ‘Like that, is it? Not keeping anything back from the police, are you, Mary? Because, if so, don’t.’
‘No, no, of course I’m not! Only we’ve been living in a sort of atmosphere of drama, and repressions, and I expect I’ve let it get on my nerves. Hugh, couldn’t it have been an accident?’
‘Hardly,’ he replied. ‘The only persons who could conceivably have been shooting at rabbits in the Dower House grounds – five o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, too! – are White, or his son. Well, it wasn’t White, and I don’t see why it should have been his son.’
‘Where was Alan?’
‘I don’t know. Not present.’
‘Anyway, there isn’t the slightest reason why he should want to kill Wally,’ said Mary, with a sigh.
Vicky came out of the drawing-room just then, with a large box of chocolates, which she offered both to Mary and Hugh. When they declined this form of refreshment, she perched herself on the back of the sofa, with her feet on the cushioned seat, and laid the box across her knees. ‘Poor darling Ermyntrude is a bit exhausted,’ she remarked, selecting a truffle from the box. ‘Myself, I thought the scene was too long for her, and much too heavy.’
‘Need you talk as though we were taking part in theatricals?’ snapped Mary.
‘Yes, because we’re bound to be, with Ermyntrude and me in the thick of it. We simply can’t help it, darling. Particularly Ermyntrude, because she always wanted to play in heavy tragedy, and no one ever gave her the chance, so you can’t blame her for letting herself go now.’
‘It’s so false!’ Mary exclaimed. ‘You know as well as I do that she didn’t care tuppence about Wally!’
‘No, I do think she had got awfully sick of him,’ agreed Vicky, choosing another chocolate from the box.
‘Very well then, all this pretence of tragedy is in the worst of bad taste!’
‘Don’t be silly, darling: if she still cared about Wally I don’t think she’d do it. I’m not sure, mind you, but I rather believe not. And after all, you can’t very well expect her to go all hard-boiled, and let everyone know she doesn’t care a bit.’
‘I don’t expect it, but a little reticence, and dignity—’
Vicky raised her eyes from the chocolates. ‘Oh, Mary, you must be completely addled! Why on earth should poor Ermyntrude suddenly become reticent and dignified, when that isn’t her line at all? She couldn’t put over an act like that, which is why I think it’s so right of her just to play herself, if you know what I mean.’
‘Leaving your mother out of the discussion,’ said Hugh, ‘what part are you proposing to play?’
‘It depends,’ replied Vicky. ‘How hellish! I’ve struck a hard chocolate which is wholly inedible. What on earth will I do with it?’
‘I wish you’d stop eating chocolates!’ said Mary crossly. ‘Is this quite the moment?’
Vicky wrinkled her brow. ‘Well, I didn’t have any tea, and quite truthfully I don’t see anything particularly irreverent about it. In fact, darling, you’re being fairly fraudulent yourself, when you come to consider it. What’s more, the whole situation seems to me so awful that if you’re going to make it worse, by putting over a pious act of your own, life will become definitely unbearable.’
‘I’m sorry if I sounded artificially pious,’ replied Mary. ‘I suppose you feel that you helped to make things more bearable by telling that policeman all about Baker?’
‘I wouldn’t wonder. I get very brilliant in my bath, and I had a bath before I came down, and I decided that if you’ve got a dissolute secret which is practically bound to come to light, you’d much better be the first person to mention it. Moreover,’ she added, eyeing the chocolates with her head on one side, ‘it took the Inspector’s mind off me for the moment, which I particularly wanted to do.’
‘Particularly wanted to do?’
‘Well, I’ve got to think up a convincing excuse for being practically on the scene of the crime, haven’t I?’
‘You little fool,’ interrupted Hugh, ‘are you seriously proposing to fake an alibi for yourself ?’
‘Oh yes, I was a Girl Guide once, for about a fortnight, and they say you should always Be Prepared. Which reminds me of what I actually came to talk to you about, Mary. Do you think considering everything, it might do good if we directed the Inspector’s attention to Alexis?’
‘Do good?’ gasped Mary. ‘Do you mean, try and cast suspicion on the unfortunate man?’
‘Yes, but in an utterly lady-like way.’
‘No, I do not! I never heard of anything so – so conscienceless!’
‘But, darling, don’t be one of those irksome people who can’t look at a thing from more than one angle! Because this is probably going to be very momentous. You can’t pretend it would be a cherishing sort of thing to do to let Ermyntrude marry Alexis. The more I consort with him, the more I feel convinced he’s exactly like somebody or other in Shakespeare, who smiled and smiled and was a villain. And, unless we gum up the works, there isn’t a thing to stop him marrying Ermyntrude, and then abandoning the poor sweet as soon as he’s hypnotised her into making a colossal settlement on him.’
Mary looked appealingly towards Hugh. He said judicially: ‘I quite agree that it would be a mistake for your mother to marry Varasashvili, but it would be a damned dirty trick to try and cast suspicion on him, and you mustn’t do it. Not that the police are likely to pay much heed to you once they’ve been privileged to see a little more of you.’