Джорджетт Хейер - No Wind of Blame

"I'm sure I don't know!" replied Ermyntrude. "Though, now you come to mention it, I believe one of my first husband's rifles was a Mannlicher — whatever-it-is. Mind you, it wasn't his best gun! A Rigby, that's what he used to swear by, and he had another gun, too, but that was only for elephants. My first husband was a big game shooter."

"When he died, madam, you kept his guns?"

"Of course I kept his guns! Not that they were any use to me, but I'd as soon have sold his hairbrushes!" said Ermyntrude, becoming a little intense. "Everything in the gun-room's kept just as he used to have it. Or rather," she added, "it was till I married Mr. Carter, and he started messing about with things."

"Are the late Mr. Fanshawe's guns kept under lock and key, madam?"

"The gun-room isn't locked, if that's what you mean. Of course, I know very well it ought to be, but that was Mr. Carter all over! He never locked anything, without he went and lost the key, and it was a miracle when he put anything away, what's more!"

"Then anyone could have had access to your first husband's rifles?"

She stared at him. "They're in a glass case. The key's generally in the lock. What would anyone want with them? Look here, what are you driving at?"

"A Mannlicher-Schonauer - .275 rifle, No. 668942, was found yesterday in the shrubbery across the stream, madam."

Ermyntrude gave a gasp, and rose from her chair with quite surprising agility, and stalked to the door. "Come along!" she said over her shoulder, and led the Inspector to the gun-room.

In a baize-lined mahogany case with glass panels, two rifles stood in a rack which was designed to take four.

"My gracious goodness me!" exclaimed Ermyntrude. The key was in the lock, the Inspector turned it, and opened the case. "A Holland & Holland, and a Rigby," he said, after examining the two rifles.

"That's what I told you," said Ermyntrude mechanically.

"Are there any cartridges for any of the three rifles, or did you turn them in when Mr. Fanshawe died?"

"Oh, I don't know! I can't remember. There used to be cartridges in that drawer."

The Inspector pulled it open, disclosing various gun accessories, and a broken box containing a handful of cartridges. "I'll take these, if you please," he said.

"Take what you like," said Ermyntrude. "Oh dear, whatever does this mean?"

"It means, madam, that your husband was shot by someone who had access to these guns."

Ermyntrude flung out her hands in a wide gesture. "But that's anyone!"

"It can't be quite anyone," said the Inspector. "It must have been someone who knew the house pretty well."

"Lots of people know it well enough to find their way to the gun-room. Any of Mr. Carter's friends, for instance. Oh dear, it seems to make it worse, somehow, knowing he was shot with one of my first husband's guns! I don't know what to think!"

The Inspector followed her back to the drawing-room, where she sank on to the sofa, looking as though she were on the verge of bursting into tears. This danger was averted by her suddenly becoming aware of his presence. It seemed to annoy her; she said sharply: "Well, what more do you want? I should have thought you'd done enough for one morning!"

"Not quite," replied the Inspector. "I want to ask you a few questions about Mr. Carter's dealing with Percy Baker."

Ermyntrude's sagging shoulders straightened. "I'm not going to discuss it! It's painful enough for me without you dragging it all up and insulting me with it."

"You informed me, madam, that Baker demanded five hundred pounds from Mr. Carter."

"Yes, and if you ask me it was nothing but a try-on! Blackmail, that's my name for it!"

"I think I'd better tell you, madam, to save misunderstanding, that Baker denies that he ever asked for such a sum."

Ermyntrude was quite unimpressed. "You don't say so! I suppose you expected him to admit he'd been blackmailing my husband?"

"I've reason to believe he may have been speaking the truth," said the Inspector slowly.

Ermyntrude's eyes began to kindle wrathfully. "Oh, you have, have you?"

"Are you quite sure that five hundred was the sum your husband told you?"

"Yes, I am quite sure. Do you suppose I'd made a mistake about a thing like that?" She got up, and went to the window. "Mary! Mary! Oh, there you are! Come in here, will you, dearie?"

Mary, who was sitting under the elm-tree with Hugh and Vicky, came at once. Ermyntrude drew her into the drawing-room, and pointed to the Inspector. "That man has given me the lie!" she declared. "It's not enough for me to have my husband murdered, I've got to be bullied and brow-beaten by the police!"

"That's not fair, madam. All I'm doing is to ask you if you're sure the evidence you've given is correct. There's no need '

"Silence!" said Ermyntrude, rather magnificently. "Mary tell that creature how much money Wally wanted to pay off the Bakers!"

"Five hundred pounds," said Mary.

"Thank you, dearie. Now perhaps you'll be satisfied, Inspector Cook?"

Mary glanced quickly towards the Inspector. "Is there some doubt about that? Five hundred was certainly the sum my cousin told me. I can't have been mistaken, for I thought it was out of all reason, and I said so."

"Very well, miss," said the Inspector. "I won't need to trouble you further at present. Good day, madam!"

After he had gone, Ermyntrude continued to fume until she was struck by the thoughtful expression on Mary's face. She demanded to know its cause.

Mary said worriedly: "Aunt Ermy, why did he put that question?"

"Don't ask me, love! Well, I never did like policemen, and it just shows you, doesn't it? As though I'd make up a thing like that! Why, whatever would I do it for, when the one thing I dread is everyone finding out about Wally's goings-on with that girl?"

"Not you," Mary said. "There's no doubt Wally did say five hundred. He said it to you, and he said it to me. But was it true?"

"But heavens alive, ducky, even Wally wouldn't ask me for five hundred for his mistress, unless he couldn't get out of it! I mean to say!"

"You knew already about Gladys Baker. It wasn't like making a confession to you. Supposing he wanted five hundred?"

"Mary, what's come over you? I never grudged Wally a penny! He could have had five hundred any day!"

"Not for something you disapproved of."

Ermyntrude blinked at her uncomprehendingly. "I don't get what you're after, dear. I don't know what I could have disapprovedd of more than his getting that Baker girl into trouble, I'm sure!"

"Aunt Ermy, do you mind if we have Hugh in? I've got an idea in my head, and I don't know whether I oughtt to tell the police, or - or whether it's all too vague. But if they're suspicious of Baker, because of this five hundred pound business, and all the time he didn't ask Wally for it, surely I ought to - Hugh would know!"

"Well, I don't mind his hearing about it. But what about Lady Dering? We can't leave her all alone out there, can we?"

"She's gone." Mary went to the window and called to Hugh.

He came, but not unaccompanied. Vicky stepped into the room ahead of him, and inquired what the Inspector had wanted.

"Oh, Vicky, you could have knocked me down with a feather! They've found one of your poor father's rifles in the shrubbery! It's quite true; it isn't in the case."

"Good Lord!" said Hugh. "Then - who could have got hold of it, Mrs. Carter?"

"Anybody!" said Ermyntrude.

"Not Baker," said Mary. "Surely not Baker! How could he have known about it? That makes me feel more than ever that he didn't ask Wally for that money!"

Hugh said frowningly: "What's all this?"

"Mary darling, you aren't coming unstuck or anything, are you?" asked Vicky.

"No. But I - I rather think I know something the rest of you don't. And I can't help feeling it may have something to do with Wally's going to the Dower House yesterday, though what it has to do with his being shot, I can't quite see."