"Nothing doing!" said Neville firmly. "I've no doubt you think I should look noble as a sacrifice, but I've never wanted to look noble, and I won't be made to."
"Neville -'
"Now, don't waste your breath in arguing with me!" he begged. "I know I ought to be falling over myself with desire to save your husband from arrest, but, strange as it may seem to you, I'm not. In fact, if it's to be his arrest for murder, or mine for being an accessary, I'd a lot rather it was his."
"You are hardly to be blamed," said a cool voice from the doorway. "But may I know upon what grounds I am to be arrested for murder?"
Chapter Twelve
At the sound of her husband's voice, Helen had started to her feet, turning an anguished face of warning towards him. He looked at her, slightly frowning, then with deliberation shut the door and came forward into the room.
"You've timed your entry excellently, John," said Sally.
"So it seems," he replied. His glance took in Glass, and Hannasyde, and Neville. "Perhaps you will tell me why my house has been invaded at this singularly inappropriate hour of the day?"
John!" The faint cry came from Helen. "I'll tell you. Don't ask them! Oh, won't you let me speak to him alone? Superintendent, I beg of you - you must realise - give me five minutes, only five minutes!"
"No, Mrs. North."
"You're inhuman! You can't expect me to break such news to him in public - like this! I can't do it! I won't do it!"
" If your sister and Mr. Fletcher choose to withdraw they may do so," said Hannasyde.
"You too! Oh, please! I won't run away! You can guard the door and the window!"
"No, Mrs. North."
"Gently, Helen." North walked across the room to where she was standing, and held out his hand. "You needn't be afraid to tell me," he said. "Come, what is it?"
She clasped his hand with both of hers, looking up into his face with dilated eyes full of entreaty. "No. I'm not afraid. Only of what you'll think! Don't say anything! Please don't say anything! You see, I've just confessed to the Superintendent that it was I - that it was I who killed Ernie Fletcher!"
A silence succeeded her words. North's hold on her hand tightened a little; he was looking down at her, his own face rather pale, and set in grim lines. "No," he said suddenly. "It's not true!"
Her fingers dug into his hand. "It is true. You don't know. You weren't there. You couldn't know! I struck him with a heavy paper-weight that stood on his desk. There was a reason -'
His free hand came up quickly to cover her mouth. "Be quiet!" he said harshly. "You're demented! Helen, I order you to be quiet!" He turned his head towards Hannasyde. "My wife doesn't know what she's saying! There's not a word of truth in her story!"
"I need more than your assurance to convince me of that, Mr. North," replied Hannasyde, watching him.
"If you think she did it you must be insane!" North said. "What evidence have you? What possible grounds for suspecting her?"
"Your wife, Mr. North, was the last person to see Ernest Fletcher alive."
"Nonsense! My wife left the garden of Greystones while an unknown man was in Fletcher's study with him."
"I'm afraid you are labouring under a misapprehension," said Hannasyde. "Mrs. North, on her own confession, did not leave the garden while that man was with Ernest Fletcher."
North's eyelids flickered. "On her own confession!" he repeated. He glanced down at Helen, but her head was bowed. He led her to a chair, and pressed her gently down into it, himself taking up a position behind her, with one hand on her shoulder. Just keep quiet, Helen. I should like the facts, please, Superintendent."
"Yes, Mr. North. But I, too, should like some facts. At my previous interview with you, you informed me that you spent the evening of the 17th at your flat. I have discovered this to have been untrue. Where were you between the hours of 9.00 p.m. and 11.45 p.m.?"
"I must decline to answer that question, Superintendent."
Hannasyde nodded, as though he had been expecting this response. "And yesterday evening, Mr. North? Where were you between the hours of 9.15 and 10.00?"
North was regarding him watchfully. "What is the purpose of that question?"
"Never mind the purpose," said Hannasyde. "Do you choose to answer me?"
"Certainly, if you insist. I was in Oxford."
"Can you prove that, Mr. North?"
"Are my whereabouts last night of such paramount importance? Haven't we wandered a little from the point? I've asked you for the facts of the case against my wife. You seem curiously disinclined to state them."
Sally, who had retreated to the big bay window, and was listening intently, became aware of Neville's soft voice at her elbow. "What a lovely situation! Shall you use it?"
Hannasyde took a minute to reply to North. When he at last spoke it was in his most expressionless voice. "I think perhaps it would be as well if you were put in possession of the facts, Mr. North. Your wife has stated that at 9.58, on the night of the murder, Ernest Fletcher escorted this unknown visitor to the garden-gate. While he was doing this Mrs. North re-entered the study, with the object of obtaining possession of certain IOUs of hers which were in Fletcher's possession. According to her story, Fletcher returned to find her there. A quarrel took place, which terminated in Mrs. North's striking Fletcher with the paper-weight which, she informs me, stood upon the desk. She then escaped from the study by the door that leads into the hall, leaving her finger-prints on one of the panels. The time was then one minute past ten. At five minutes past ten Constable Glass here discovered the body of Ernest Fletcher."
From the window, Sally spoke swiftly. "Leaving out something, aren't you? What about the man whom Glass saw leaving the garden at 10.02?"
"I have not forgotten him, Miss Drew. But if either of your sister's stories is to be believed he can hardly have had anything to do with Fletcher's murder."
"Either?" protested Neville. "You've lost count. She's told three to date."
"I think we need not consider Mrs. North's first story. If her second story, that she left the study at 10.01, just before Fletcher returned to it, was correct, the man seen by the Constable cannot have had time to commit the murder. If, on the other hand, it is true that she herself killed Fletcher -'
Helen raised her head. "It's true. Must you go on? Why don't you arrest me?"
"I warn you, I shall strenuously deny my alleged part in your unprincipled story," said Neville.
"I never suggested that you were my - my accomplice!" Helen said. "You didn't know why I wanted you to take the paper-weight back!"
"Oh no, and I wouldn't guess, would I?" said Neville. "And to think that in a misguided moment I told the Sergeant I was your accomplice! I can almost feel the cruel prison bars closing round me. Sally, I appeal to you! Did your unspeakable sister give me a paper-weight on that memorable night?"
"Not in my presence," replied Sally.
"She would hardly have done so in your presence, Miss Drew," said Hannasyde.
"Good God, you don't believe that story?" Sally exclaimed. "Are you suggesting that Mr. Fletcher was in it too? Next you'll think I had a hand in it! Is no one immune from these idiotic suspicions of yours?"
"No one who was in any way concerned in the case," he replied calmly. "You must know that."
"How true! how very true!" said Neville. "There isn't one of us who doesn't suspect another of us. Isn't that delightfully succinct?"
"It is so!" Glass, who had been silently listening and watching, spoke in a voice of righteous wrath. "I have held my peace, reading the thoughts you harbour! How long will ye imagine mischief against a man? Ye shall be slain, all of you: as a bowing wall shall ye be, as a tottering fence!"