The Unfinished Clue (17 page)

Camilla laughed again, and threw him her coquettish glance. "Well, I must say I never expected to receive compliments from the police, Inspector! "Tisn't for me to say whether I'm attractive or not."

"I should hardly believe that the General did not find you so," prompted Harding.

"Oh well, perhaps he did, a bit. You know what old men are, and although Lady Billington-Smith's awfully sweet - I'm frightfully fond of her, you know - she always gives me the impression of being rather cold. Poor Sir Arthur wanted to have some fun, I expect, and he happened to like me rather - I don't know why, I'm sure - and that's how it was." She paused, and added: "Of course, there was nothing in it! He just liked to flirt a little, and he was ever so much older than me."

"I quite understand," nodded Harding. "And I expect that like a great many men of his type he was inclined to he tactless in his flirtations - forgetting that you had a husband by you."

A wary look crept into the shallow blue eyes. "Oh, Basil absolutely trusts me, Inspector!"

"I'm sure he does. But he might still feel a trifle jealous," suggested Harding.

"You know too much, Inspector. I daresay Basil was a tiny bit jealous, but not seriously - because, I mean, he had no cause."

Harding raised his brows quizzically. "No cause at all, Mrs. Halliday? Are you going to tell me you didn't lead Sir Arthur on just a little?"

Again she patted her hair. "Perhaps I did - a very little," she said archly. "However did you guess?"

"Well, there must have been some reason for his extraordinary behaviour in trying to make you accept a cheque for fifty pounds," Harding replied. "I imagined that in all probability you did flirt with him just enough to make him leap to quite wrong conclusions."

At the mention of the cheque she had flushed, and seemed to retire into her shell. She said cautiously: "I don't know why he gave me that cheque. It was frightful cheek, and of course I ought to have told him so, only it was so awfully awkward."

"It must have taken you very much by surprise," said Harding sympathetically.

"Oh, it did, absolutely! I didn't know what to say."

"Where were you, Mrs. Halliday, when he gave it to you?"

"We were at the keeper's cottage. You see, Sir Arther had promised to show me a litter of puppies just as soon as he'd been to the bank in Ralton. I simply adore puppies."

"At what time was this, Mrs. Halliday?"

"Well, I don't think-oh yes, I do! It was eleven o'clock, well, a minute or two later, probably, because he had to put some notes, or something, into his safe first."

Harding looked up. "Was Sir Arthur wearing gloves Mrs. Halliday?"

"Gloves? No, of course not. Why?"

"I merely wanted to know. You were saying that you were in the kennels when the cheque was given you. Was there a pen and ink for him to write with there?"

"Oh, he had his fount -" She broke off, and added trifle shrilly: "He didn't write the cheque there, Inspectsr . He just pulled it out of his pocket and sort of pressed it into my hand. He'd written it before, of course."

"Ah, I see!" said Harding. "And — quite honestly, Mrs. Halliday - you hadn't given him any reason to think that you would accept it?"

"Oh no, I was simply astonished at him!" averred Camilla.

Harding moved several of the papers on the table, and chose one from amongst them. With his eyes on it he said: "You hadn't at any time during the weekend allowed Sir Arthur to kiss you?"

Camilla, her gaze also riveted to the paper, hesitated. The Sergeant, aware that amongst the various statements before Harding there was none in the least relevant to the question, nodded his head slowly in appreciation of this stratagem.

Harding looked up from the document in his hand. "Come, Mrs. Halliday! Did Sir Arthur kiss you or not?"

"There's no harm in a kiss," she said defensively. "What if he did?"

"Once, Mrs. Halliday, or several times?"

"I don't know who it is who's been spying on me," Camilla said, "but I think it's the absolute limit!"

Harding did not pursue the question any further. He laid the paper down again, and sat back in his chair. "Let us go back to where we were," he said. "What happened after the General had pressed this cheque on you?"

"We motored back to the house," answered Camilla sullenly.

"And then?"

"Sir Arthur wanted me to take some of his roses home with me, and he called Lady Billington-Smith down to see about it. I must say, I did think at the time that she was rather fed-up. Sir Arthur was being awfully complimentary to me, and I could see she didn't like it, so I just ran upstairs to take my hat off. Of course I've always had a sort of feeling about Fay, that though she's so quiet, and sweet, if you know what I mean, she's one of those people who get simply frightfully jealous underneath. At least, that's how she struck me, and of course one couldn't help seeing that she didn't get on with Sir Arthur. I was rather sorry for him, in a way. I simply hate saying anything about my friends, and I'm not in the least narrow-minded - in fact, quite the opposite - but I must say I did think the way she and Mr. Guest behaved was a bit thick. I mean it was utterly obvious that she's in love with him, and he with her. And poor Sir Arthur was quite unsuspecting, which did seem to me rather pathetic'

"When you say that the way Lady Billington-Smith and Mr. Guest behaved was a bit thick, do you mean that there was love-making between them?"

"Oh, not in public!" said Camilla, with a little laugh."They were much too clever for that. Only anybody could tell by the way he looked at her that he absolutely potty about her."

"But you did not actually see anything more than the looks?" persisted Harding.

"No, but I can put two and two together, Inspector."

"I see that you can, Mrs. Halliday. But I think we have wandered away from the point. Will you tell me what you did when you went up to take your hat off?"

"Well, I took it off," said Camilla flippantly. "And then I powdered my nose, and one thing and another, any I then - oh, I forgot to say that Basil, my husband, came in, and I gave him the cheque, and told him what had happened."

"Was he very much annoyed, Mrs. Halliday?"

"Oh no, not annoyed!" Camilla assured him. "I mean. it was really quite funny, the General being smitted by me. We made up our minds to treat it as a joke, only of course Basil said the cheque must be given back at once. So he said he'd do that, and I went down on to the terrace."

"Do you remember what the time was then?"

"No, I can't say I do, but that's the worst of me, I simply never look at the clock."

"You were on the terrace, I think, when Mrs. Twining arrived?"

"Yes," admitted Camilla.

"And when did your husband join you?"

"Oh, quite soon afterwards - I don't know exactly. Every one was there, except Geoffrey and that sickening Mexican girl, and where they were I don't know, though I do know that Geoffrey said he'd been out walking, which I must say I thought sounded very odd."

"You remained on the terrace until one o'clock?"

"Yes, I did," said Camilla significantly. "And so did my husband."

"Did anyone leave the terrace before one o'clock?"

"Mr. Guest did. He pretended he hadn't got his tobacco pouch on him -"

"Have you any reason for saying "pretended", Mrs. Halliday?"

"I don't know whether he had or not, but I thought at the time that it was only an excuse, because Basil offered to let him have some of his, and he wouldn't take it. He insisted on going indoors for his own, and he was gone for ages."

"What does "ages" mean, Mrs. Halliday?"

"Oh, I don't know, but ever so long! I couldn't think what he could be doing. In fact, I told him he was nearly too late for a cocktail when he came back. And I thought then that he seemed funny in his manner - awfully silent, you know. I don't know whether Basil told you, but I do think you ought to know about the blood on Mr. Guest's shirt-cuff."

"Yes, I think I certainly ought to know about that," said Harding. "Perhaps you'll tell me, Mrs. Halliday?"

"Well, I don't like saying anything against anybody but all I know is that there was blood on his cuff, and Basil called attention to it. And Mr. Guest was obviously annoyed, and he told us some story about cutting his wrist when he was opening his tobacco tin. But all I can say is nothing would induce him to let us see the cut though both Fay and I wanted to. He got frightfully curt and pulled his sleeve down. I didn't think anything of it at the time - I mean, one doesn't - but when Mrs. Twining came out with her glove all soaked with blood (it was too frightful: it made me feel absolutely sick!) and told us what had happened I couldn't help wondering. Because I know Mr. Guest is mad about Fay, and of course Sir Arthur had been pretty awful to her, going for her in public, and that sort of thing, and - well, anyway I do think you ought to know about it, because if anyone had a reason for wanting to kill Sir Arthur it was him, or Geoffrey, and not Basil." She wrenched at her handkerchief as she spoke, and added: "Mind, I don't say it was him, because it might just as easily have been Geoffrey. I shan't forget in a hurry what he did when the doctor told him his father had been murdered. I'm not easily shocked, but that just about finished me. He came in through the drawing-room window looking absolutely wild - his face was simply ghastly: dead white; and his eyes all queer and, sort of burning - and he just burst out laughing! He did honestly! It was perfectly awful; I was quite frightened of him. I said so at the time." She glanced up at Harding, and made as if to rise. "Of course, I shouldn't have told you, only that I knew no one else would, and it doesn't seem to me right the way they all try to shield one another, when poor Sir Arthur's been killed like that. Do you want to ask me anything else?"

"No, nothing else, thank you," Harding answered getting up.

"Well, can Basil and I go home? It's frightfully inconvenient for us having to hang about here, and I can't sleep a wink, my nerves are utterly on edge."

"I shall let you go home just as soon as I can," said Harding, and went to open the door for her.

When she had gone the Sergeant said severely that she seemed to him to be real spiteful. In his opinion the evidence against Basil Halliday was strong. He wanted to know what the Inspector thought of it.

Harding refused to say. "The trouble is, they're all lying," he said. "Lady Billington-Smith wants to make me believe she was not on such very bad terms with her husband; young Geoffrey wants me to think that his mood of desperation was caused by Miss de Silva, and had nothing to do with his father; Halliday is trying to shield his wife, who undoubtedly angled for that cheque; and Mrs. Halliday is attempting to throw suspicion on anyone who is not Halliday!" He ran through the papers on the table. "The head housemaid: I think I'll see her next, to check up on Mrs. Halliday's story. Ring, will you?"

It was not many minutes before the starched and rigid Peckham came into the room. She looked prim and uncompromising, and took up a stand before the table. Yes, she perfectly remembered what had happened yesterday morning. She had been packing for Mrs. Halliday when Mrs. Halliday came in to take her hat off.

"What did you do then?" inquired Harding.

A faintly scornful look crossed Peckham's sharp features. "I hope I know my place, sir. Naturally, I left the room immediately."

"Did you go downstairs?"

"I did not, sir. I went into the still-room, opposite, to wait for Mrs. Halliday to go down."

"Did anyone go into Mrs. Halliday's room while she was in it?"

"Not to my knowledge they didn't, sir."

"And when Mrs. Halliday left the room, what did you do?" -

"I went back to finish the packing, till Mr. Halliday came in."

"When was that?"

"I couldn't say for sure, sir. Perhaps five minutes later, perhaps not so long."

"And when he came in you again left the room?"

"Certainly, sir."

"How long was he in the room?"

"Not more than a minute or two, the first time."

"He came back, then?"

"Yes, sir; he came back as I was leaving the room."

"Did you notice anything unusual about him —- any signs of agitation?"

"It is not my place to notice the guests, sir, but I thought Mr. Halliday seemed a little upset. He brushed by me in a rough way, not what I am accustomed to in gentleman, and went into his bathroom, and slammed the door."

"Thank you. One more question before you go: I thing you told the Superintendent yesterday that Mr. Billington-Smith sat in the upper hall for nearly an hour that morning, waiting to be admitted into Miss de Silva's room. Did it strike you that he was in any way upset?"

"I didn't give any heed to Mr Geoffrey, sir. I have my work to do, unlike others I could name who waste their time goggling at their betters and making up a pack of theatrical nonsense about them."

With Dawson's colourful statement under his hand Harding asked: "When you sent Dawson out of Captain Billington-Smith's room, was Mr Geoffrey - er - "holding his head in his hands, and looking fit to kill Himself"?"

Peckham gave a sniff. "I'm sure I couldn't say, sir. I didn't notice him particularly."

"Thank you, that's all then. Will you ask the butler to send Mr. Guest to me, please?"

When she had left the room the Sergeant shook his head. "She's speaking the truth all right, sir. That was a lie what Mr. Halliday told you: he never had that talk with his wife which he said he did. If you was to ask me, I should be bound to say that to my way of thinking he had his suspicions about her little game all along, and he found that cheque when she'd gone out on to the terrace. It looks bad, sir; uncommon bad it looks."

Harding had picked up Stephen Guest's statement. "Do you know if there's any truth in what Mrs. Halliday said about Guest and Lady Billington-Smith?"

"I never heard anything about it," said the Sergeant. "Of course the General was a lot older than her ladyship, not that that proves anything."

"Mr. Guest!" announced Finch, from the doorway.