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Authors: Georgette Heyer

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"Lend you my shoes! Really, Superintcüdrut, that is quite impossible!"

"Why, Mrs. North?"

"Well, you must see - Oh, this is idiotic! I had nothing to do with Ernie Fletcher's death!"

"Then you can have no possible objection to lending me your shoes for half-an-hour," said Hannasyde.

"Of course she hasn't," said Sally. "What's more, you shall have mine as well. I knew Ernest Fletcher too, so presumably there is just as much reason to suspect me of having been at Greystones last night as my sister."

"Not quite," he replied.

Helen sat down suddenly on the sofa. "I can't stand this!" she said in a choking voice. "There's no reason why you should come and badger me! Simply because I happened to know Ernie Fletcher -'

"Not entirely," he said. "Are not these yours, Mrs. North?"

She looked at the slips of paper which he had taken from his pocket-book. The colour rushed into her face, but some of her strained rigidity left her. "Yes. They're mine," she answered. "What of it?"

"They call for some kind of explanation, as I think you'll agree," he said. "Did you owe these various sums of money to Mr. Fletcher?"

"No. That is, not in the way you seem to think. He bought up those debts, to get me out of a - a hole, and I was - I was repaying him bit by bit." She glanced up fleetingly, and added, twisting her handkerchief between her fingers: "I did not wish my - my husband to know. He - I - oh, this is impossible!"

"I quite appreciate your reluctance to discuss your affairs, Mrs. North. It may make it easier for you to be frank with me if you can bring yourself to believe that except in so far as they may relate to the case I am at work on I have no interest in them, and certainly no desire to create any unnecessary - er - scandal."

"There's nothing to make a scandal about!" she said. "Mr. Fletcher was just a friend. The whole arrangement was perfectly amicable. I don't know what you are imagining, but -'

"You can put an end to any imaginings of mine by being open with me, Mrs. North. I have told you that I appreciate your point of view, but you must see that the discovery of these notes of yours in Ernest Fletcher's safe is a circumstance which must be fully inquired into. If you can satisfy me that you did not visit Greystones last night I shall have no further need to worry you with interrogations which you must naturally find unpleasant. But if you can bring no proof forward in support of your denial, and persist in refusing to let me compare your shoes with the footprints we have found in the garden at Greystones, I can have no alternative to pursuing my inquiries further. In which event, I fear there will be little hope of your evading the sort of publicity you must wish to avoid."

Sally got up from her seat by the table, and walked forward. "That," she said, "sounds remarkably like a threat, Superintendent."

"I expect it does," he agreed equably. "It isn't, though. I am only trying to point out to your sister that her wisest course is to be entirely frank with me. If I have to question her servants as to her whereabouts last night -'

"I get it," said Sally, grimacing. She took a cigarette from the box on the table, and fitted it into her holder. She glanced speculatively at Hannasyde, and took a lighter from her pocket. The little flame spurted up; she lit her cigarette, once more looked at Hannasyde, and then said tersely: "He's right, Helen. And what he says about having no interest in your affairs is true. He's got nothing on you, but obviously you've got to be eliminated."

Helen looked frightened, but after a pause said: "I did call on Ernie Fletcher last night. I've explained that he was a - a great friend, though years older than me. I looked on him as a sort of uncle."

"Quite," said Hannasyde. "Had you any particular purpose in paying this call?"

"No, not exactly. My sister was busy, and I was bored. It was quite early, and I thought I'd just look in on Ernie."

In spite of herself she coloured, but Hannasyde merely asked: "At what hour did you arrive at Greystones?"

"It must have been at about five-and-twenty to ten. I know I left this house at half-past nine."

"Just tell me everything that happened, Mrs. North."

"Really, there's so little to tell. I went by way of the Arden Road, because for one thing it's quicker than going all the way up this road, and along Vale Avenue, andd for another - I expect this seems odd to you, but it isn't really - I didn't much want to see Miss Fletcher, so I thought I'd go in by the garden-entrance, on the chance of finding Ern - Mr. Fletcher in his study." She broke off, and exclaimed wretchedly: "Oh, this is too impossible! It sounds as though I had some horrid assignation! But I hadn't, I hadn't!"

"Don't go over at the knees," recommended her sister. "It's obvious you hadn't, or you'd have thought up some convincing reason for calling on Ernie."

"Oh, don't! Do you suppose I can't see what a false impression anyone must get, not - not knowing the terms I was on with Ernie?"

"The only impression the Superintendent's got is that you're a paralytic ass," responded Sally cheerfully. "Why you chose to enter by the garden-gate has got nothing to do with him, so get on with your story!"

"I don't know where I was. Oh yes! Well, Mr. Fletcher was in his study - oh, I forgot to tell you that I saw a man coming out of the gate, just as I turned up into Maple Grove. I - I don't know whether that's any use to you?"

"Can you describe him, Mrs. North?"

"No, except that he was rather stout and short. You see, it was dusk, and I didn't see his face. He walked off towards Vale Avenue. Well, I found Mr. Fletcher in his study, as I said."

"Was he alone?"

"Oh yes!"

"And then?"

"Well - well, nothing, really. We had a - a talk, and then I said I mustn't be late, and - and just left."

"Do you know what the time was then?"

"Yes, it was a quarter to ten."

"A quarter to ten?" he repeated, raising his head from his notebook.

"Yes. There was a clock on the mantelpiece, and I happened to notice the time."

"Then you were only with Mr. Fletcher for ten minutes?"

"I suppose so. Yes, it must have been about that."

"A very short call, Mrs. North, was it not?"

"I don't see why - What do you mean?"

"Merely that it strikes me as odd that having, as you yourself state, gone to see Mr. Fletcher because you were bored, you stayed so short a time with him. Did anything happen to make you anxious to leave at once?"

"No. No, of course not. Only I could see he was busy, and I didn't want to be a nuisance."

He made a note in his book. "I see. So you left the study at 9.45. Did you return home by the way you had come?"

"Yes. But not immediately. I heard the garden-gate open, and - and it occurred to me that it would look rather odd - my being there at that hour. I didn't want anyone to see me, so I hid behind a bush."

"Mr. Fletcher, then, did not accompany you to the gate?"

"No," she faltered. "There was no reason why he should."

"Oh!" said Hannasyde. "Very well, Mrs. North: you hid behind a bush. Did you see who it was that entered the garden?"

"No, I didn't. I mean, in the dusk, and - and only being able to peer through the bush, I couldn't get a clear view. I only know it was a man. He looked quite ordinary, but he had a hat on, and I didn't see his face."

"What sort of hat, Mrs. North?"

"A Homburg, I think."

"Light or dark?"

She hesitated. "I think it was a light one."

"Did you happen to notice whether he carried a walking-stick?"

"No. No, I'm sure he didn't."

"Did he go up to the house?"

"Yes, he went into Mr. Fletcher's study."

"Did you hear what happened then?"

"No. As soon as it was safe to do so I went away, of course. I don't know anything more."

Hannasyde shut his notebook, and, looking straight across at Helen, said bluntly: "Mrs. North, are you prepared to state that your visit to Mr. Fletcher was not in connection with these notes of yours?"

"I don't understand. I've told you -'

"I don't think you've told me the whole truth."

"I don't know why you should say that, or what you may choose to suspect, but -'

"I suspect that Mr. Fletcher was threatening to use these notes against you, Mrs. North."

"That's absurd! I tell you he was a friend of mine!"

"Yes, you have told me that, but I find it difficult to reconcile that statement with the presence of the IOUs in his safe. If his motives in obtaining possession of them were as chivalrous as you say they were, it would surely have been more natural for him either to have destroyed them, or to have given them back to you?"

"Are you suggesting that he was trying to blackmail me? It isn't true! Good heavens, what could he possibly want to blackmail me for?"

"Perhaps he wanted something from you which you were unwilling to give, Mrs. North."

She flushed. "Oh - ! You've no right to say that! Besides, how could he blackmail me? It isn't a sin to get into debt!"

"He might have threatened to lay your IOUs before your husband, might he not?"

"He wouldn't - he wasn't like that!" she said faintly.

"Where is your husband, Mrs. North?"

"He's in Berlin. He went last week, and won't be back till next Wednesday."

Even as the words left her lips he saw her face change. The click of an opening door had sounded. Hannasyde turned quickly. A man had entered the room, and was standing on the threshold, his hand resting on the doorknob, his cool, rather stern grey eyes surveying the group in the middle of the room.

Chapter Four

Hannasyde heard the frightened gasp that came from Helen, and glanced once towards her. She was very white, gazing as though benumbed at the newcomer. It was Sally who spoke.

"Hullo, John!" she said nonchalantly. "Where did you spring from?"

John North closed the door, and walked forward. "How do you do, Sally?" he responded. His voice was a deep one, and he spoke with a certain deliberation. He was a well-built man of average height, good-looking, and with a manner quietly assured. Having shaken hands with his sister-in-law, he nodded at his wife, saying: "Well, Helen? Sally keeping you company?"

"Yes, she's staying here," Helen answered breathlessly. John, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Berlin!"

"I got through my business there more quickly than I expected." He looked at Hannasyde in a measuring way, and said: "Will you introduce me, Helen?"

She threw an imploring look at Hannasyde, but said: "Yes, of course. It is Superintendent - oh dear, I'm afraid I have forgotten your name, Superintendent!"

"Hannasyde," he supplied.

"Yes, from Scotland Yard, John. Rather a dreadful thing has happened - well, a ghastly thing! Ernest Fletcher has been murdered."

"That doesn't seem to me to explain the presence of the Superintendent in my house," he said calmly. "May I know what you are doing here, Superintendent?"

Before Hannasyde could reply Helen had hurried into speech. "Oh, but don't you see, John? The Superintendent is trying to discover someone who might be able to throw any light on the mystery, and hearing that I knew Ernie, he came to see if I could help. Only of course I can't. The whole thing seems absolutely incredible to me."

His brows rose a little. "Are you making a house-to-house visitation of all Fletcher's acquaintances, Superintendent? Or do you suspect my wife of having knocked him on the head? I hardly think she possesses the necessary strength."

"You are well informed, Mr. North. Where did you learn that he had been knocked on the head?"

John North looked at him with a faint smile in his eyes. He drew a folded newspaper from under his arm, and handed it to Hannasyde. "You may study the source of my information if you wish," he said politely.

Hannasyde glanced down the columns of the evening paper. "Quick work," he remarked, folding the paper again, and giving it back. "Were you acquainted with the deceased, Mr. North?"

"I knew him, certainly. I should not describe my acquaintance with him as very close. But if you are interrogating everyone who knew him, perhaps you would like to come into the library, and interrogate me?" He moved to the door as he spoke, and opened it. "Or have you not yet finished questioning my wife?"

"Yes, I think so." Hannasyde turned to Helen, meeting her anguished look with the flicker of a reassuring smile. "Thank you, Mrs. North: I won't take up any more of your time. Good-morning, Miss Drew."

"You haven't seen the last of me by a long chalk," Sally told him. "I don't think my name conveys anything to you, which is rather levelling, but I'm a writer of crime novels, and I have never before had the opportunity of studying a crime at close quarters. What is of particular interest to me is your handling of the case. One is always apt to go wrong on police procedure."

"I suppose so," answered Hannasyde, looking rather appalled.

She gave him a sudden, swift smile. "You've taught me one thing at least: I've always made my detectives a bit on the noisome side up till now."

He laughed. "Thank you!" He bowed slightly to Helen, and went out of the room before John North, who was still holding the door for him.

"This way, Superintendent," North said, leading the way across the hall. "Now what is it you would like to ask me? You have established the fact that I was acquainted with Fletcher."

"But not, I think you said, very well acquainted with him?"

"Not so well acquainted with him as my wife was," replied North. "You will probably find that his closest friends were all of them women."

"You did not like him, in fact, Mr. North?"

"I can't say I was drawn to him," admitted North. "I should describe him as a ladies' man. The type has never appealed to me."

"Did you consider him a dangerous man - with ladies?"

"Dangerous? Oh no, I shouldn't imagine so!" North said, a suggestion of boredom in his voice. "My wife, for instance, regarded him, I believe, somewhat in the light of a tame cat."

"I see. So, speaking as a husband, you would not consider it worth while to be - let us say -jealous of him?"

"I cannot pretend to speak for anyone but myself. But I take it that you do not want me to. I was not jealous of him. Is there anything else you wish to ask me?"

"Yes, I should like to know when you returned from the Continent, Mr. North?"

"I arrived in London yesterday afternoon."

"But you did not come down to Marley until this morning?"

"No, Superintendent, I did not."

"Where did you go, Mr. North?"

"To my flat, Superintendent."

"Where is that, if you please?"

"In Portland Place."

"Was that usual?"

"Quite."

"You will have to forgive my bluntness, Mr. North, but I must ask you to explain yourself a little more fully. Do you and Mrs. North inhabit separate establishments?"

"Not in the sense which you appear to mean," replied North. "I may be wrong, but you seem to attach a sinister importance to my having chosen to remain in London for the night. My wife and I have been married for five years, Superintendent: we are long past the stage of living in one another's pockets."

There was an edge to the deliberate voice, which Hannasyde was quick to hear. As though aware of it himself, North added lightly: "I am often kept late in town. I find the flat convenient."

"I see. Did you dine there?"

"No, I dined at my club."

"And after dinner?"

"After dinner I returned to the flat, and went to bed."

"You were alone there? Or are there any servants?"

"Oh, I was quite alone! It is a service flat, and I had given my valet leave to go out for the evening. I'm afraid I cannot - at the moment - bring forward any corroborative evidence, Superintendent. Perhaps you would like to take my finger-prints?"

"No, not at present, thank you," returned Hannasyde. "In fact, I hardly think I need detain you any longer."

North walked over to the door. "Well, you know where you can find me if you should want to ask me any further questions. My business and flat addresses are both in the London Telephone Directory."

He led the way into the hall, and across it to the front door. A pale grey Homburg lay on the gate-leg table, beside a pair of wash-leather gloves. Hannasyde's eyes rested on it for a moment, but he made no comment, merely picking up his own hat from the chair whereon he had laid it.

Having seen him off the premises, North returned unhurriedly to the morning-room, entering it in time to hear his sister-in-law say trenchantly: "You must be suffering from mental paralysis! You can't possibly hope to keep it from -'

She saw who was coming into the room, and snapped the sentence off in mid-air. North closed the door, tossed the newspaper he was still carrying on to the table, and said suavely: "What can't she possibly hope to keep from me?"

"Did I say from you?" demanded Sally.

"It was sufficiently obvious." He began methodically to fill a pipe. An uncomfortable silence fell. Helen was sitting with her gaze fixed on North's face, and her hands tightly clasped in her lap. As he restored his pouch to his pocket he raised his eyes, and for a moment looked steadily into hers. "Well? Isn't it so?"

She evaded the question. "What brought you home so unexpectedly, John?"

"Does that really interest you?" he inquired.

She said in a low, unsteady voice: "You came back to spy on me!"

A hard look came into his face. He said nothing, however, but felt in his pocket for matches, and began to light his pipe.

A less intense note was introduced by Miss Drew, who said brightly: "Would you by any chance like me to withdraw tactfully? I should hate to think I was cramping either of your styles."

"No, don't go!" Helen said. John and I have nothing private to discuss." She glanced up at North, and added with an attempt at nonchalance: "It would be interesting to know why you elected to come home in the middle of the morning. You can't have felt an overwhelming desire for my company, or you'd have come last night."

"No," he replied imperturbably. "We are rather beyond that, aren't we? I came when I read about Fletcher's murder."

"There! What did I tell you?" said Sally. "The answer to the maiden's prayer! Not that I'm fond of the protective type myself, but I should be if I were a pretty ninny like you, Helen."

"Oh, don't be absurd!" Helen said, a catch in her voice. "So you thought I might be mixed up in the murder, did you, John?"

He did not answer for a moment, but after a pause he said in his cool way: "No, I don't think I suspected that seriously until I found a Superintendent from Scotland Yard in the house."

She stiffened. "Surely you understand the reason for that! He came simply -'

"Yes, I understood." For the first time a harsh note sounded in his voice. "The Superintendent came to discover whether the woman's footprint in the garden was yours. Was it?"

"Count ten before you answer," recommended Sally, her eyes on North's grim face. Golly, she thought, this isn't going to be such plain sailing as I'd imagined.

"Oh, why can't you be quiet?" Helen cried sharply. "What are you trying to do?"

"Stop you telling useless lies. You may be all washedup, you two, but I don't see John letting you get pinched for murder if he can help it."

"I didn't murder him! I didn't! You can't think that!"

"Were the footprints yours?" North asked.

She got up jerkily. "Yes! They were mine!" she flung at him.

Sally gave a groan. "How not to break the news!" she said. "For God's sake, try to stop looking like something carved out of the solid rock, John! Holy mackerel, to think I've written books about people like you, and never believed a word of it!"

North disregarded her, addressing his wife. "No doubt I shall seem to you unwarrantably intrusive, but I should like to know why you visited Fletcher in this apparently clandestine fashion?"

"I went to see him because he's - he was - a friend of mine. There was nothing clandestine about our relations. I don't expect you to believe that, but it's true!"

Sally polished her eyeglass. "Questioned, Miss Sally Drew, an eminent writer of detective fiction, corroborated that statement."

"You are a somewhat partial witness, Sally," North said dryly. "Oh, don't look so belligerent, Helen! I merely asked out of curiosity. It's really quite beside the point. What seems to me to be more important is what, if anything, you know about the murder?"

"Nothing, nothing!"

"When were you with Fletcher?" he asked.

"Oh, early, quite early! I left his study at a quarter to ten. John, I know it sounds strange, but I went to see him on a perfectly trivial matter. I - I wanted to know if he'd go with me to the Dimberleys' affair next week, that's all."

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