Джорджетт Хейер - Why Shoot a Butler

Lady Matthews, who hadd reached the half-landing, remarked that it sounded very exciting, but who was Mark Brown? She had never heard of him.

Felicity explained hurriedly and demanded to know who had done it.

"He fell into the river and was drowned. No one did it," replied Amberley.

Felicity was immediately concerned for Shirley, left alone at Ivy Cottage, and Lady Matthews, having by this time grasped the fact that Shirley was the nice girl who had picked up her parcel for her at Hodgson's yesterday, announced that the poor child must not be allowed to stay at that horrid little cottage.

Amberley admitted that he had already issued an invitation to her which she had refused. Lady Matthews said: "Ah yes, dear. No doubt. I must have a coat. Such a shame to drag you out again, but impossible to have Ludlow out so late. The small spare room, Felicity darling. Better tell your father. So unfortunate, for he is put out already."

It appeared that Lady Matthews had formed the intention of rescuing Shirley Brown herself.

When the Bentley once more stood outside the little white gate Lady Matthews got out and gently refused her nephew's escort. Amberley warned her that Shirley Brown was a somewhat obstinate young woman.

"Poor child!" murmured his aunt charitably.

She was not very long in the cottage, but when she came out again she was accompanied, somewhat to Amberley's astonishment, by Shirley, who carried a small suitcase and was closely followed by the faithful Bill. Shirley seemed curiously meek and she did not look at Amberley. The two ladies got into the back of the car; Bill and the suitcase shared the seat next the driver's. Bill, grateful for the ride, alternately put his head over the side to enjoy the wind in his face, and licked Mr. Amberley's lean check.

"It is to be hoped," remarked Mr. Amberley, removing a large paw from his wrist, "that Wolf is shut up."

Bill flattened his ears politely, but he did not share in the hope. A cheerful little fight would, in his opinion, round off the day nicely.

He got it. The chauffeur was bringing Wolf in from his last run as the car drew up at the door, and Wolf bounded up to greet these late homecomers. Bill did not wait to have the car door opened. Before Amberley could stop him he leaped over it. He was aware that he stood upon Wolf's own stamping-ground; if he had not previously encountered the Alsatian, etiquette would have compelled him to forbear battle. But he was one who hated to leave a job unfinished.

The commotion brought Sir Humphrey out upon the scene. He arrived in time to witness the removal of Wolf, raging impotently in the grip of the chauffeur. He ordained that that damned dog was to be shut up and demanded of his wife where she proposed to put the other brute.

Shirley, holding tightly to Bill's collar, said stiffly that she was sorry, and Sir Humphrey, recalled to his duties as host, put the whole blame onto Wolf.

Shirley, still more stiffly, said that she would like to keep Bill with her.

Sir Humphrey's views on the subject of large dogs in houses were widely known. He was about to make his guest privy to them when his wife said: "Of course, my dear. So much safer. Well go up. Someone must find him a rug. Frank, you are so clever at finding things. Do find a rug. Probably in the oak chest."

She bore Shirley upstairs, leaving her husband silenced but indignant. When she presently came down again he professed himself much displeased with the whole affair. Everyone was in the wrong, principally Frank, who persisted in meddling in what did not concern him. This was what came of it. Dogs in bedrooms. No one had seen fit to consult him before this young woman was brought to the house. Had anyone done so he would have deprecated the plan most strongly. They knew nothing about the girl, and although he was naturally sorry for her, he could not see why his wife should consider it incumbent upon her to interfere.

Lady Matthews, quite unruffled by this severe vote of censure, patted his hand and said: "Dreadful, my dear. But impossible to let her stay alone in that cottage all night."

"I fail to see that it is in any way our affair," said Sir Humphrey, slightly mollified.

"Not in the least, darling. But no friends of her own, you see. So awkward. And quite a nice girl, I feel sure. She reminds me of someone, though I don't know whom."

"I have yet to meet anyone who did not remind you of someone, Marion," said Sir Humphrey. "I shall go to bed, and I trust you told her not to allow that dog to get on the furniture."

In the morning he had recovered his urbanity and had thawed enough to invite Shirley to remain at Greythorne until after the inquest, when he supposed she would be returning to London. He even said that the bull-terrier seemed to be a very well-behaved dpg and bestowed a piece of kidney on him, which Bill accepted without hesitation.

Shirley refused the invitation. There were dark shadows under her eyes telling of a sleepless night, and she was very quiet. Lady Matthews did not urge her to stay and prevented Sir Humphrey from pressing the matter. "So much better to let people do what they want to," she said. "Somebody shall ring up and engage a room for you at the Boar's Head, my dear."

They had only just left the breakfast table when Jerkins came in to say that Mr. Fountain was in the library and would like to speak to Mr. Amberley.

This intelligence slightly impaired Sir Humphrey's good humour. He spoke severely of persons who called at uncouth hours and suddenly remembered a dire thing that was to happen today. There was going to be a dinner party. "And considering that both the Fountains and that foolish young man who is staying with them are coming here tonight, I fail entirely to see why a call at ten in the morning can be necessary," he said.

His disillusioned gaze dwelt accusingly on his nephew. Frank said with a grin: "I know, Uncle, I know. All my fault. Even the dinner party."

Without giving his uncle time to retort he went off to receive Fountain.

Fountain was standing by the window in the library, looking out. He turned as Amberley came in and walked towards him, holding out his hand. There was an expression of deep concern on his face. He said without any preamble: "I came round to see you about this tragic business of last night. I only heard when I got back from town."

"Yes?" said Amberley. "You mean Mark Brown falling into the river? Apparently half the village expected something of the sort to happen."

"But you were having him followed, weren't you?"

"I was. Not quite closely enough, as it turned out."

Fountain looked curiously at him. "Well, now that the poor chap's dead I do wish you'd tell me why you wanted him watched. I never could understand that. Did you think he had anything to do with Dawson's murder?"

"When a man - even a drunken man - forces his way into a strange house and lets off a gun I always think it wise to keep an eye on him," said Amberley.

"I see." Fountain laughed a little. "I wondered whether you'd hit on some dark plot!" He became grave again and said: "Look here, what I really came round for was to ask you about Collins' share in the business. The fellow is naturally a bit worried, because he's got it into his head the police suspect him of having pushed Brown in."

"Oh, I don't think so!" Amberley replied.

"Well, I'm glad of that, for the idea's absurd. Why should he push the boy in? He tells me that he went in after him to get him out. I suppose that's true?"

"I wasn't there," said Amberley. "It looked true enough - at face value."

Fountain knit his brows. "I wish you'd be open with me," he said, a touch of annoyance in his voice. "Collins is in my employment, and I think I've a right to know. Hang it all, first my butler's shot, and then my valet is suspected of having pushed a complete stranger into the river. Isn't it true that he tried to rescue him? Of course, I know you never can believe all servants say, but he'd hardly make up such a tale, would he?"