“Yes, absolutely,” replied Antonia. “You cooked the accounts and Arnold found out. I've often wondered how that's done, by the way. How do you do it, Rudolph?”
He flushed. “Please — ! It - this isn't very pleasant for me, Tony. I ought not to have done it, but I thought I could pay it all back before the next audit. I never dreamed Arnold had his eye on me. Then he sprang it on me — actually on Saturday morning. He was filthily offensive - you know what he could be like! We - we had a bit of a row, and he threatened to take the whole thing into court, largely, I'm afraid, because you'd told him of our engagement, darling. Not that I'm blaming you, but it was rather unfortunate, all things considered. And the devil of it is that we were heard - well - quarrelling - by that foul Miller girl, and, of course, she pitched in a highly exaggerated story to the Superintendent. And on top of that -” He paused, and studied his well-manicured nails for a moment, a pucker between his brows. “The most extraordinary thing,” he said slowly. “I confess I don't understand it. Some idiot of a village Constable imagines he saw my car ten miles from Hanborough on Saturday night. It's utterly absurd, of course, but you can see what an ugly complexion it puts on things.”
She sat up suddenly. “Rudolph, how did you know which day Arnold was murdered?”
He blinked at her. “I don't understand what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. On Sunday, when you came here for supper, you said you'd quarrelled with Arnold on the very day he was murdered.”
“Did I? I expect you'd told me, then. I don't know how else I could have known.”
“I wish you'd stop being guarded,” Antonia complained. “If you killed Arnold you might just as well say so, because Kenneth and I don't mind a bit about that, and we shouldn't dream of giving you away.”
“I didn't kill him. For God's sake don't go about talking like that!”
“Well, what's all this about your car being seen near Hanborough?”
“It wasn't! I mean, I don't know whether it was or not, but I wasn't in it. I was in my digs all evening. I can't prove that, but if they're going to take one sleepy bobby's word against mine -”
“The fact of the matter is none of us can prove anything,” said Antonia cheerfully. “You've merely joined the noble army of suspects. Kenneth'll be rather fed-up if you become chief suspect. He thinks he's being awfully clever, and I daresay he is. He can be when he likes.”
Rudolph let himself sink down into one of the big armchairs and dropped his head in his hands. “You can treat it like a joke, but I tell you it's damned serious,” he said, his voice a little unsteady. “That Superintendent thinks I did it. He doesn't believe anything I say. I can see he doesn't. I don't know what the hell to do, Tony!”
He sounded helpless, frightened, and although such a mood of panic was alien to her nature she responded at once as well as she could. “I shouldn't worry,” she said, patting his knee. “I'll ask Giles what he thinks. He's coming here this evening to talk business with Kenneth. You don't mind, do you?”
He seemed undecided. “He knows anyway,” he said. “Arnold wrote a letter about me to his uncle, and the Superintendent got it. Of course your cousin must have seen it. I don't know that I exactly mind consulting him, because I haven't anything to conceal. I mean -”
At this moment the studio door opened, and Giles Carrington came in, accompanied by Kenneth. Antonia greeted him with a friendly smile, but desired her brother to tell her what he had done with Miss Rivers.
“She pushed off homewards,” answered Kenneth. “Cigarette, Giles? - if there are any, which I doubt.”
“Oh, well, in that case we can talk!” said Antonia briskly. “Giles, do you know about Rudolph cooking the firm's accounts, or not?”
“What?” ejaculated Kenneth, pausing in his search for the cigarettes, and turning to stare at Mesurier. “Actually embezzling funds? Did you really?”
His manner was partly interested, partly critical, and it goaded Rudolph, deeply flushed, to defend himself . His explanation was met with so derisive a laugh that Antonia at once took up the cudgels, and told her brother he needn't be offensive, because for one reason she wouldn't put it above him to cook accounts, and for another it had nothing to do with him.
“Oh yes, it has!” objected Kenneth. “You seem to forget I'm the heir. I daresay I could prosecute, if I wanted to. Not that I do, of course, though I do rather draw the line at embezzling. It's one thing to bump a man off, but quite another to monkey with his accounts. However, don't think I'm being captious. I expect it seemed good to you at the time, Rudolph.”
Mesurier said angrily: “I don't care for your tone! I'm willing to admit I shouldn't have borrowed the money, but when you accuse me of -”
“My bonny lad, I haven't accused you of anything,” said Kenneth, beginning to fill a pipe. “Tony said you'd been cooking the firm's accounts; I merely displayed the proper amount of surprise, interest and disapproval.”
Antonia had drawn her cousin over to the window, and stood there facing him, with one hand lightly grasping his sleeve. She looked gravely up at him and asked quietly: “He's in a mess, isn't he?”
“I don't know, Tony.”
“Well, I think he is. You will help him, won't you, Giles?” He did not answer immediately, and she added after a moment: “You see, I'm engaged to be married to him.”
“That isn't an inducement to me, Tony.”
Her candid eyes were a trifle puzzled; they searched his unavailingly. “Isn't it?” she asked, seeking enlightenment.
“No.”
“Oh! Well - well - will you do it for me, Giles?”
He looked down at her, and at her hand, still clasping his sleeve. “I suppose so, Tony,” he said in his level way, and glanced across the big room to where Mesurier and Kenneth were arguing. “Shut up, Kenneth,” he said pleasantly. “Yes, I know about the letter my cousin wrote before his death, Mesurier. It doesn't prove, you know, that you had anything to do with his murder.”
“No,” agreed Antonia, “but the bit about the car is not so good. Tell my cousin, Rudolph; he really is quite helpful.”
Mesurier gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Oh, that's nothing but a ridiculous mistake on the part of the police. Some local bobby imagines he saw my car near Hanborough on the night of the murder, Carrington.”
“Policemen haven't got imaginations,” said Kenneth, who had stretched himself along the sofa, his pipe between his teeth.
Giles was frowning slightly. “Where was your car?” he asked.
“In the garage, I suppose. I mean, I spent the evening at home.”
“I see. Can you produce anyone to corroborate that statement?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I can't,” said Mesurier, with a slight uncomfortable laugh. “Seems silly, but the truth is I had a bad headache and I went to bed early.”
“You are a rotten liar,” observed Kenneth lazily. “Why bother? We won't give you away. I might even bestow a suitable reward on you. Or would that be indelicate?”
Giles said rather sternly: “Your own story is just as thin, Kenneth.”
“Admittedly, but I tell it with a much better grace.”
Kenneth pointed out. “What do you think, Tony? Did he do it? I don't believe he had the nerve.”
“Of course he had the nerve!” said Antonia indignantly. “The trouble with you is that you're so taken up with admiring your own cleverness in baffling the police that you don't think anyone else is capable of doing anything.”
Giles, who had ignored this interchange, was looking steadily at Mesurier. “When you say that a bobby saw your car on the night of the murder, do you mean that he saw a car of the same make as yours, or that he actually read your number on its plate?”