Guy came away from the window as Mr Rumbold's story ended, and began to hand round the tea-cups. Stella entered the room almost immediately, nodded to Randall, and sat down on a floor-cushion by her mother.
Randall regarded her with a pained expression. “My little love, do you not see that I am present? Have you no exclamation of mingled dismay and loathing to greet me with?”
“I saw your car in the drive, so I knew what to expect,” retorted Stella. “I suppose you've come to hear about the Inquest. The police asked for an adjournment, so we're just where we were before.”
“If they're wise they'll give it up,” said Guy. “No one'll ever know the truth. Don't you think they'll chuck it fairly soon, Mr Rumbold?”
“I don't know, Guy. It depends how much they've got to go on.”
“They haven't got anything. Aunt Harriet saw to that, said Guy, with a little laugh.
“I'm sure if I'd ever dreamed there was going to be such a fuss made over my clearing up poor Gregory's things I wouldn't have touched one of them!” said Miss Matthews agitatedly. “Anyone would think I did it on purpose! No one told me I ought not to, and my motto is, If a job has to be done sometime, do it at once! Besides, there wasn't anything that could possibly have had poison in it, as I told the Superintendent. "If you think there's poison in a bottle of iodine and a packet of corn-plaster," I said, "you can take them and see for yourself". “
“And did he take them?” inquired Mr Rumbold.
Miss Matthews sniffed. “Yes. Such nonsense! I could understand him wanting to take the salts and the liverpills, but I've yet to hear of anyone's drinking iodine. Anyway, I gave him everything I took out of poor Gregory's medicine-chest, and I only hope he's satisfied.”
“But my dear Miss Matthews, what did you do with your brother's personal effects?” asked Rumbold.
“I didn't do anything with them!” she replied hotly. “I left all his clothes, and his ivory brushes, and his watch and chain, and things tidily put away in his wardrobe! The only things I threw away were things like his sponges, which were no good to anybody. And if the police want to see them I'm extremely sorry, but they went into the boiler with all the rest of the rubbish!”
“I see,” said Rumbold. “A sort of clean sweep.”
“Well, what was the use of keeping a lot of things no one could ever use?” demanded Miss Matthews. “Next I suppose I shall be blamed for having the room swept!” .
“My dear, I don't think anyone blames you,” said Mrs Matthews. “You couldn't know. After all, we none of us dreamed there was any truth in Gertrude's suspicions. And if perhaps you quite unwittingly burned something which contained the poison, do you know I am almost glad? Nothing can bring Gregory back to us, and isn't it better that we should remain in ignorance?”
“We seem to be likely to,” muttered Guy.
Stella was frowning. “No!” she said. “If he was poisoned we've got to know who did it. Good God, how could we go on when we know that one of us is a murderer?”
“How dare you, Stella!” gasped her aunt.
“But it's true!” persisted Stella. “That's what's so ghastly. You don't seem to see it, but can't you realise that if the police don't discover who did it we shall wonder which of us it was all our lives?”
“Morbid rot!” said Guy. “I'd a lot sooner wonder than have a foul scandal, anyway.”
“Would you?” said Stella, looking up at him with a vague horror in her eyes. “When it might have been me, or even Mummy?”
“Oh, don't talk such drivel!” said Guy roughly.
Mrs Matthews gave a little laugh, and dropped her hand on to Stella's shoulder. “My darling, you mustn't let your imagination run away with you quite so fast!”
“But the fact remains that she has spoken nothing but the truth,” said Randall. “I congratulate you, Stella.”
Mrs Matthews met his look with one very nearly as limpid. “I'm afraid I can't agree with you, my dear Randall. Stella was speaking in that exaggerated way which I've so often deplored. I hope that she wouldn't suspect her mother or her brother of having committed such a terrible crime any more than I could ever suspect either of my children.”
“I think you are all of you making a mistake,” said Edward Rumbold. “There's no reason to suppose that Matthews was murdered by any one of you. Are you so sure that there was no one outside his family who could have done it?”
Guy stared at him. “Who on earth?” he asked bluntly.
“I don't know, but I think that if I were you I would rather believe that it must have been an outsider than make myself ill with quite groundless suspicions of my own people, said Rumbold gently, but with a look that sent the blood rushing to Guy's cheeks.
“I'd rather have it cleared up,” said Stella decidedly.
Rumbold said, smiling down at her: “Well, that's a sure sign you don't really wonder whether your mother or your brother committed the crime,” he said.
“I never heard of such a thing!” said Miss Matthews. “Oh, you're not going, Mr Rumbold? Why, you've barely finished your tea!”
“He is probably going to supplement it elsewhere,” remarked Randall. “And I'm sure I don't blame him,” he added, casting a glance at the somewhat meagrely furnished cake-stand. “There is a certain Lenten spirit clinging to my dear Aunt Harriet's tea-parties which only the few know how to appreciate.”
Stella gave a giggle, and even Mrs Matthews bit her lip. Harriet Matthews sat bolt upright in her chair, and said: “I did not ask you to tea here, Randall, and I did not ask Mr Rumbold either, though I am always glad to see Trim, as I hope he knows. And if he finds my tea insufficient —”
“Thank you, thank you, but I have had an excellent tea!” Rumbold said hastily. “You know how much I like those little scones of yours, Miss Matthews. I tell my wife she never gives me anything half as good. Now, please don't any of you disturb yourselves! I can find my way out.”
In obedience to a glance from his mother Guy put down his plate and got up. But Randall also had risen, and waved Guy back to his chair. “Don't lose your chance of the last slice of cake,” he said. “You, after all, are going to dine here. I will show Mr Rumbold out.” He moved to the door as he spoke, and opened it, and held it for the elder man to pass through.
“There's really no need for you to bother,” said Rumbold, picking up his hat from the hall-table.
“It is a pleasure,” replied Randall. “The society of my relatives can only be enjoyed with frequent intervals.”
Rumbold looked at him, half in amusement, half in reproof. “Why do you come if you feel like that?” he asked. “If you'll forgive my saying so, your presence isn't exactly conducive to peace.”
“No, but don't you think it's nice for them to have someone to vent their feelings on?” said Randall in his most urbane voice. “They are all of them just a trifle on edge, as you may have noticed.”
“It's an extraordinarily unpleasant situation for them,” replied Rumbold seriously.
Randall strolled with him out of the house. “Oh, extraordinarily,” he agreed. “Did anything of interest transpire at the Inquest?”
“Nothing at all. The police asked for an adjournment as soon as Mrs Lupton had given her evidence.”
“Considering all things, that was to be expected,” said Randall. “I take it that our engaging young doctor figured largely?”
“He was one of the witnesses, yes. I thought he made a very good one.”
“He probably would,” said Randall “And did everyone seem quite satisfied with his evidence?”
“Quite. There was no reason why they shouldn't be, you know. He's behaved perfectly properly throughout.”
“Yes, I noticed that,” said Randall. “Not one to lose his head, our ambitious doctor.”