Spider's Web

Here, the Inspector went across to the French windows. "Presumably he effects an entrance through these windows," he continued, gesturing at them. "He is killed – and his body is pushed into that recess – all in a space of about ten to twenty minutes."

He turned back to face Clarissa. "And nobody hears anything?" he ended, on a rising inflection. "I find that very difficult to believe."

"I know," Clarissa agreed. "I find it just as difficult to believe. It's really extraordinary, isn't it?"

"It certainly is," the Inspector agreed, his tone distinctly ironical. He tried one last time. "Mrs. Hailsham-Brown, are you absolutely sure that you didn't hear anything?" he asked her pointedly.

"I heard nothing at all," she answered. "It really is fantastic."

"Almost too fantastic," the Inspector commented grimly. He paused, then went over to the hall door and held it open. "Well, that's all for the present, Mrs. Hailsham-Brown."

Clarissa rose and walked rather quickly towards the library door, only to be intercepted by the Inspector. "Not that way, please," he instructed her, and led her over to the hall door.

"But I think, really, I'd rather join the others," she protested.

"Later, if you don't mind," said the Inspector tersely.

Very reluctantly, Clarissa went out through the hall door.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE INSPECTOR closed the hall door behind Clarissa, then went over to the Constable, who was still writing in his notebook. "Where's the other woman? The gardener. Miss – er – Peake?" the Inspector asked.

"I put her on the bed in the spare room," the Constable told his superior. "After she came out of the hysterics, that is. A terrible time I had with her, laughing and crying something terrible, she was."

"It doesn't matter if Mrs. Hailsham-Brown goes and talks to her," the Inspector told him. "But she's not to talk to those three men. We'll have no comparing of stories, and no prompting. I hope you locked the door from the library to the hall?"

"Yes, sir," the Constable assured him. "I've got the key here."

"I don't know what to make of them at all," the Inspector confessed to his colleague. "They're all highly respectable people. Hailsham-Brown's a Foreign Office diplomat, Hugo Birch is a J. P. whom we know, and Hailsham-Brown's other two guests seem decent upper-class types – well, you know what I mean... But there's something funny going on. None of them is being straightforward with us – and that includes Mrs. Hailsham-Brown. They're hiding something, and I'm determined to find out what it is, whether it's got anything to do with this murder or not."

He stretched his arms above his head as though seeking inspiration from on high, and then addressed the Constable again. "Well, we'd better get on with it," he said. "Let's take them one at a time."

As the Constable got to his feet, the Inspector changed his mind. "No. Just a moment. I'll first have a word with that butler chap," he decided.

"Elgin?"

"Yes, Elgin. Call him in. I've got an idea he knows something."

"Certainly, sir," the Constable replied. Going to the hall door, he opened it, calling, "Elgin, would you come in here, please."

As he opened the door, the Constable could see Elgin standing on the stairs and staring intently at the door, as though he had been there for some time, attempting to listen to what the police officers had been saying. The butler now began to walk tentatively up the staircase, but stopped when the Constable called him again, and came into the room rather nervously.

The Constable closed the hall door and resumed his place for note-taking, while the Inspector invited Elgin to sit, indicating a chair near the bridge table.

Elgin sat, and the Inspector began his interrogation. "Now, you started off for the pictures this evening," he reminded the butler, "but you came back. Why was that?"

"I've told you, sir," Elgin replied. "My wife wasn't feeling well."

The Inspector regarded him steadily. "It was you who let Mr. Costello into the house when he called here this evening, was it not?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

The Inspector took a few paces away from Elgin, and then turned back suddenly. "Why didn't you tell us at once that it was Mr. Costello's car outside?" he asked.

"I didn't know whose car it was, sir. Mr. Costello didn't drive up to the front door. I didn't even know he'd come in a car."

"Wasn't that rather peculiar? Leaving his car around by the stables?" the Inspector suggested.

"Well, yes, sir, I suppose it was," the butler replied. "But I expect he had his reasons."

"Just what do you mean by that?" the Inspector asked quickly.

"Nothing, sir," Elgin answered. He sounded almost smug. "Nothing at all."

"Had you ever seen Mr. Costello before?" The Inspector's voice was sharp as he asked this.

"Never, sir," Elgin assured him.

The Inspector adopted a meaningful tone to enquire, "It wasn't because of Mr. Costello that you came back this evening?"

"I've told you, sir," said Elgin. "My wife – "