Джорджетт Хейер - No Wind of Blame

"Yes, I reckon we're seeing life," agreed Hemingway. "Wonderful how frank and above-board he got as soon as he found he wasn't going over big with me!"

"Do you think he did it, sir?"

"I wouldn't put it above him. All the same, this is a highly intricate case, and it won't do for you and me to go jumping to conclusions."

"He's a real nasty piece of work," said the Sergeant sternly. "He fairly made my gorge rise!"

"Yes, I never have thought that new way they have at the zoo of keeping snakes was safe," said Hemingway. "If I weren't a very conscientious man, I'd arrest his Highness right now, and go off and get a bit of supper, which is what I need."

The Sergeant frowned. "I wouldn't say, myself, we'd got quite enough on him, sir," he suggested diffidently.

"That's another reason why I'm not arresting him," said the Inspector.

He went out into the hall. The door into the drawingroom stood open, and he could see Vicky Fanshawe, perched on the arm of a chair. He walked across the hall, and went into the drawing-room. Only the two girls and Hugh Dering were there, for Ermyntrude had gone upstairs to dress for dinner, and the Prince seemed to have followed her example.

"I do hope I'm not intruding," said Hemingway cheerfully. "Of course, if I am, you've only got to tell me."

"And then I suppose you'd go away?" said Vicky.

"I'd be in a very awkward position," confessed the Inspector. "Because, as it happens, I want to ask both you young ladies one or two questions."

"Right, then I'll clear out," said Hugh, knocking out his pipe, and putting it in his pocket.

Vicky flung out a hand. "Don't leave us!" she said throbbingly. "Can't you see that we may need you?"

"Can it, Vicky!" said Hugh, unimpressed.

"I wish you would stay," said Mary nervously.

"I'm sure I've no objection," said the Inspector. "There's no need for anyone to get the shudders yet. What I want to know first, is whether it's true that you, miss, are Mr. Carter's heiress?"

Mary stared at him in dawning dismay. "Who's been telling you that nonsense?"

"Alexis!" said Vicky tensely.

"Well, that's what I want to know, miss. Is it nonsense, or had Mr. Carter got a fortune to leave?"

"No. At least, he himself was heir to a lot of money. It's quite true that it comes to me. He always said he should leave it to me, and, as a matter of fact, I believe he made out some kind of a will, which two of the servants witnessed. I don't know whether it was legal, of course."

"Just a moment!" interposed Hugh. "What is all this about Carter's expectations? Something was said about them the other day, but where are you supposed to come into it?"

"It's Wally's Aunt Clara," explained Mary. "She's been in a lunatic asylum for years, but she's frightfully rich, and Wally was her next-of-kin. I believe she's going on for eighty, so she must die fairly soon. Not that I ever set much store by it. I mean, Wally's expectations were practically a family joke."

"But it's you who'll come into the money now that Mr. Carter's dead?" said the Inspector.

"Yes, I suppose so. I hadn't really thought about it," replied Mary, looking rather scared.

"Do you mind if we get this straightened out?" said Hugh. "I frankly haven't got the hang of it. What relation to you is this aunt of Carter's?"

"Oh, she isn't my aunt!"

"No, that I'd grasped. How does the relationship work?"

"Well, I don't think it does really. She's a Carter, you see. I suppose, in a way, I'm connected with her through Wally, but she isn't actually a relation. She wasn't actually Wally's aunt either, though he always called her aunt. She was a cousin."

Hugh said patiently: "What exactly was your relationship to Carter?"

"I was his first cousin. My father's elder sister married Wally's father."

"Then you've no Carter blood at all?"

"Oh no, none!"

"In that case," said Hugh, "it's just as well that you never set much store by Aunt Clara's money. You won't get it."

"Won't I? Are you sure?" said Mary, bewildered.

"How you must be enjoying yourself!" said Vicky, addressing herself to Hugh. "You practically couldn't be more blighting! Poor Mary, do you mind frightfully?"

"No. I don't think so. It never really entered into my calculations."

"I'm bound to say this is all very surprising," said the Inspector. "I suppose you're sure of your facts, sir?"

"Of course I'm sure! A man can't bequeath property which he doesn't possess."

"Well, but who will get it?" asked Mary. "After all, I was Wally's nearest surviving relative!"

"That has nothing to do with it. When the old lady dies, the money will go to her next-of-kin. You don't come into it at all."

"But, Hugh, she hasn't got any next-of-kin now that Wally's dead! I know Wally told me she was an only child, and she certainly never got married."

"My dear girl, it doesn't make the least difference to you. You're out of it altogether. Sorry, but there it is!"

"Is that the law?" said Vicky incredulously.

"That, my fair one, is the law," replied Hugh.

"Well, I think it's all for the best," said Vicky, "and a complete sell for Alexis, because the Inspector now sees that Mary hadn't got a motive. Don't you, Inspector?"

"No," said Mary. "No, it doesn't clear me, because I didn't know about this next-of-kin business. Oh dear, what a nightmare it's beginning to be! But surely you can't think I'd shoot my cousin!"

"Darling Mary, no one who'd ever seen you with a gun could possibly think you'd fired a shot in your life," said Vicky, with lovely frankness.

"It's a funny thing, but it's not often you'll find a lady who won't behave as though she thought a gun would bite her," remarked the Inspector. "But I understand you're not like that, miss?"

Vicky's seraphic blue eyes surveyed him for a moment. "Did the Prince tell you that?" she asked softly.

"It doesn't matter who told me, miss. Do you shoot?"

"No! I mean, yes, in a way I do," said Vicky, becoming flustered all at once. "But I practically never hit anything! Do I, Mary? Mary, you know it was only one of my acts, and I'm not really a good shot at all! If I hit anything, it's quite by accident. Mary, why are you looking at me like that?"

Mary, who had been taken by surprise by the sudden loss of poise in Vicky, stammered: "I wasn't! I mean, I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You think I did it!" Vicky cried, springing to her feet. "You've always thought so! Well, you can't prove it, any of you! You'll never be able to prove it!"

"Vicky!" gasped Mary, quite horrified.

Vicky brushed her aside, and rounded tempestuously upon the Inspector. "The dog isn't evidence. He often doesn't bark at people. I don't wear hair-slides, I'd nothing to gain, nothing! Oh, leave me alone, leave me alone!"

The Inspector's bright, quick-glancing eyes, which had been fixed on her with a kind of bird-like interest, moved towards Mary, saw on her face a look of the blankest astonishment, and finally came to rest on Hugh, who seemed to be torn between anger and amusement.

Vicky, who had cast herself down on the sofa, raised her face from her hands, and demanded: "Why don't you say something?"

"I haven't had time to learn my part, miss," replied the Inspector promptly.

"Inspector, it's a privilege to know you!" said Hugh. Vicky said fiercely, between her teeth: "If you ruin my act, I'll murder you!"

"Look here, miss, I haven't come to play at amateur theatricals!" protested the Inspector. "Nor this isn't the moment to be larking about!"

Vicky flew up off the sofa. "Answer me, answer me! I was on the scene of the crime, wasn't I?"

"So I've been told, but if you were to ask me-'

"My dog didn't bark. That's important. That other Inspector saw that, and you do too. Don't you?"