Джорджетт Хейер - Envious Casca

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 Inspector, 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."