‘No, but Robert’s a friend of his, and you must admit that he’s taking it all frightfully seriously, so that it looks rather as though he feared the worst.’
‘He can’t think that! In any case, I didn’t find him any different from his usual self. He certainly wasn’t with me.’
‘Oh well! then it was probably Hugh who made him so glum. I’ve noticed that he doesn’t seem to like Hugh much.’
Mary stared at her. ‘But what could he possibly find to dislike in Hugh?’
‘Old school-tie. Alan does. Besides, there’s plenty to dislike in him. Mothballs, and being dictatorial, and – oh, lots of things!’
‘Hallo!’ said Mary, suddenly making a discovery. ‘Have you fallen for Hugh?’
‘No, I think he’s noisome, and I do not fall for other people’s boy-friends!’
‘If that means me, don’t worry! I told you he wasn’t, when you asked me.’
‘But isn’t he?’ asked Vicky anxiously.
‘Definitely not. If you want the truth, I did rather wonder if he was going to be, at one time, because I like him tremendously. Only, since all this happened – I can’t explain, but I know he isn’t. We don’t think on the same lines. You probably think I’m very dull and serious-minded, and I dare say I am, for I can’t see any humour in the present situation, and, frankly, it annoys me when I hear Hugh being thoroughly flippant about it.’
‘Well, it means nothing to me,’ said Vicky. ‘He’s fusty, and dusty, and he doesn’t think I’m a great actress. In fact, I practically abominate him, and I shouldn’t in the least mind if the Inspector suddenly started to suspect him of being the murderer.’
Fortunately for Mr Hugh Dering, the Inspector had not yet started to suspect him of anything worse than a pronounced partiality for his chief tormentor. The Inspector’s suspicions were still equally divided between the only five people who appeared to have any motive for having killed Wally Carter. Of these, young Baker, whom he interviewed at Burntside after leaving Palings, seemed to be the least likely, and Robert Steel the most probable suspect.
The Inspector, returning to Fritton a little while after five o’clock, said that he knew Baker’s type well, and that his knowledge of psychology informed him that loud-voiced young men who stood upon soap-boxes and inveighed against the existing rules of society were not potential murderers. Sergeant Wake, who had a prosaic mind, said: ‘To my way of thinking, the fact of its having been Carter’s own rifle pretty well rules him out. It doesn’t seem to me that he could have got hold of it, let alone have carried it off on his motor-bike, which is what you’d think he must have done, if he stole it on the Saturday evening.’
But a day spent by the Sergeant and his underlings in searching for circumstances or witnesses either to disprove or to corroborate the stories told by Prince Varasashvili and Robert Steel, had been unsuccessful enough to cast him into a mood of pessimism. ‘The case looked straightforward enough when we started on it, but the conclusion I’ve come to is that the man who did this murder laid his plans a sight more carefully than we gave him credit for.’
‘Yes,’ said the Inspector cheerfully, ‘he certainly knew his onions. It’s a pleasure to deal with him. Y
ou keep right on pursuing investigations into Steel and the Prince. You’ll maybe get something sooner or later.’ He looked at Superintendent Small, who had joined the conference. ‘Am I right in thinking Mr Silent Steel’s well-liked in these parts?’
‘I never heard anyone speak ill of him,’ replied Small. ‘He’s not one to throw his weight about, mind you, and he doesn’t belong to the real gentry, but they all seem to like him well enough.’
‘That’s what I thought. Everyone likes him, and everyone knows he’s been hanging round the fair Ermyntrude these two years, and nobody means to give him away if he can help it.’
‘Why, what makes you say that?’
‘Arithmetic,’ replied the Inspector. ‘Habit of putting two and two together. I’ve been like it from a child.’
‘That’s right,’ said Wake slowly. ‘You can get any of the folk here to talk about the Prince; and the way Percy Baker’s talked of in this town you’d think people would like to see him convicted, and his sister, too. Not at all popular, they aren’t. But the instant you start making inquiries into Steel you’re up against a lot of deaf mutes. No one knows anything about his movements, and no one’s ever had any idea of his being in love with Mrs Carter.’
‘Well, he may be the whitest man they know in these parts, but he’s too cool a customer for my taste,’ said Hemingway. ‘Nothing rattles him, not even having his story of not knowing Carter was going to the Whites blown up by Miss White. He has a nice quiet think, too, before he answers a question. Of course, his mother may have told him always to think before he spoke, but it isn’t a habit which makes me take to him much. Is he a friend of the doctor?’
‘Chester?’ said Small. ‘Yes, I’d say they were pretty friendly. Why?’
‘Oh, nothing!’ said Hemingway airily. ‘Only that I had a bit of a chat with the doctor up at Palings this morning, and it struck me that he wasn’t what you might call bursting with information. The way I look at it is, if anyone knows the ins and outs of that household, it’s the doctor, for if you were to tell me the fair Ermyntrude doesn’t treat him like a confession-box I wouldn’t believe you.’
‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Small. ‘You wouldn’t hardly expect him to give away anything she may have said to him, would you?’
‘No, nor I wouldn’t expect him to be so much on his guard that he leaves the house sooner than let me ask him a few questions,’ retorted Hemingway.
‘You think he knows something against Steel?’
‘I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, but I’ve a strong notion that he’s got his suspicions. Of course, he may know something highly incriminating about one of those two girls. On the face of it, though, I’d say it’s Steel he’s shielding.’
‘Or the Prince,’ interpolated Wake.
‘No,’ replied the Inspector positively. ‘Not since he’s had him staying in his house. It wouldn’t be human nature for him to want to protect that chap.’