Antonia frowned. “Yes, but that means he must have motored down with Rudolph, and he wouldn't have.”
“Of course he wouldn't, and, considering all things, who shall blame him? The point is that Rudolph murdered him first.”
“Oh, how ghastly!” shuddered Violet. “Please don't!”
Mesurier was looking rather pale and very angry.
“Very clever!” he said. “And pray, how do you account for the fact that there are no bloodstains in my car?”
Kenneth took another drink. “You wrapped the body in an old mackintosh,” he replied.
“Which he afterwards burned in his bedroom grate,” interpolated Giles dryly.
“Oh, no, he didn't! He cut the maker's name out of it, tied it round a boulder and dropped it into the Hammerpond at Huxley Heath,” said Kenneth.
“That's good,” approved Antonia. “But you haven't told us how he managed to murder Arnold without being seen, and get his body into the car.”
“When you have quite finished amusing yourselves at my expense,” said Rudolph furiously, “perhaps you will allow me to tell you that I very much resent your attitude!”
Antonia opened her eyes at him. “I can't see what on earth there is to get annoyed about. After all, Arnold was our relative, and if we don't mind discussing the murder, why should you? We weren't even going to be sure about it if you did it.”
“It seems to me,” said Rudolph, his voice trembling a little, “that I am to be cast for the role of scapegoat!”
“I'm afraid,” said tiles in his calm way, “that you don't understand my cousins' - er - purely intellectual interest in the crime. If you'd prefer not to talk about it there's no sort of reason why you should.”
“Except, of course,” put in Kenneth, “that when I'm put in the witness box, I shall be bound to say that I thought your manner hellish secretive when we talked it over.”
“You're more likely to be in the dock,” said his sister unkindly.
“In that case,” replied Kenneth, finishing his whisky-and-soda, “I shall bring in the embezzlement-motif. Sauve qui peut.”
Mesurier thrust his hands into his pockets and forced his lips to smile. “I rather fancy a jury would see that occurrence in a more reasonable light,” he remarked. “I don't pretend that I was justified in doing what I did, but there's no question of - of theft. I've already paid back a great deal of what I borrowed.”
“The point is, Arnold didn't look at it in a reasonable light at all,” said Antonia.
“There I take issue with you,” said Kenneth immediately. “I don't hold any brief for Arnold, but I can't see why he should be expected to be pleasant about it. You can't pinch a man's money, and then say, "Thank you for the loan" and pay it back in driblets. I don't in the least blame Arnold for cutting up rough, and, what's more, no jury would either. They'll see that Rudolph's got a motive for murder that makes mine look childish.”
“I'm perfectly well aware I'm in an awkward hole,” Mesurier said. “But it's no use you or anyone else trying to fasten the murder on to me. I never owned a knife like that in my life, for one thing, and for another -”
“Just a moment,” interrupted Giles. “A knife like what?”
A wave of colour mounted to Mesurier's face. “A - a knife capable of killing a man. I naturally assume it must have been some sort of dagger. I mean, an ordinary knife could hardly -”
“You saw Arnold Vereker after he was dead, didn't you?” said Giles.
There was a moment's silence. Violet gave a shiver, “You're making me feel sick. Do, do let's talk of something else!”
“You can't be sick yet, darling. Rudolph's going to make a full confession.”
Mesurier's eyes were fixed on Giles's face, but at this he veiled them suddenly, and put a hand to his breast-pocket and drew out his cigarette-case. He opened it, took out a cigarette, and put it between his lips. There was a match-box on the table, and he walked over to pick it up. “Yes,” he said, lighting his cigarette. “You're quite right. I did see Vereker after he was dead.”
“You just happened to be passing that way,” nodded Kenneth.
“No, I went down to Ashleigh Green on purpose to see him. When I got to the village my headlights lit up the stocks. I didn't know it was Arnold then. I got out and went to inspect.”
“And finding it was Arnold, came home again.”
“Well, why not?” demanded Antonia. “If Arnold was dead there was no point in staying.”
“He might have tried to do something,” Violet said in a low voice. “He might have called for help.”
“A womanly thought, sweetheart. Rudolph, why didn't you?”
“I didn't want to get mixed up in it. I saw there was nothing to be done.”
“What time was all this?” inquired Giles.
“I don't know. I mean, I'm not sure. Somewhere between twelve and one in the morning.”
“At which salubrious hour you were going to knock Arnold up for a friendly chat,” observed Kenneth. “The whole story seems to me to want revision. Personally I should jettison it, and think out a new one. The moths have got at this one pretty badly.”
“Well, I wasn't going to knock Arnold up,” Mesurier said, throwing away his cigarette. “I've - I've been through a pretty bad time over this, I don't mind telling you. Vereker meant to ruin me. He could have, easily. Even if he didn't win his case, the mere fact of my being in such a case would absolutely finish me. I - I was utterly desperate. Didn't know which way to turn. I knew Vereker was going down to Riverside Cottage; I heard him tell Miss Miller so. Of course, I was mad, but I meant to follow him there and shoot him, making it look like a burglary. I'd been to the cottage once. I knew it was fairly remote, and I knew a place where I could hide my car. I thought - if I broke into the place - I could conceal myself behind the bookcase in the hall, and when Vereker came down to investigate, I could shoot him from there and make a getaway before anyone else came on the scene. That's my story, and if you don't like it you can just do the other thing!”
“You've only to tell me what the other thing is and I'll go and do it at once,” promised Kenneth. “The story makes me want to weep. My poor sister!”
“Yes, but there's just one thing,” said Antonia seriously. “It's so dam' silly that people are quite likely to think it's true. Don't you agree, Giles?”
“It's quite possible,” said her cousin.
“Well, if that's your opinion why not let us all in on it?” said Kenneth. “Let's all say we burgeoned off to kill Arnold, but found someone else had done it for us.”
“I shouldn't advise it,” replied Giles. “It's not the sort of story that bears being told a second time.”
“Second time!” exclaimed Kenneth scornfully. “It had whiskers on it when Rudolph dug it up.”
“It happens to be true,” said Rudolph. “And it isn't any weaker than the story you told. Personally I thought that the thinnest thing I'd ever heard.”
“Yes, I quite see that,” said Antonia, trying to be fair, “but Kenneth's story was a much better one, all the same, because you can't disprove it, and it doesn't place him anywhere near Ashleigh Green. I really don't think much of yours, Rudolph. Can't you think of something better? We'll all help, won't we?”
“Speaking for myself, no,” replied Giles.
“Then I think it's pretty mouldy of you. Kenneth, what do you think Rudolph had better say?”
“I won't have a hand in it,” said Kenneth. “My first idea was the best: let Rudolph be the scapegoat. It's the best solution all round. He's only a nuisance as it is.”
“He may be a nuisance, but you needn't think I'm going to let him carry the blame for you!” Antonia flashed.
“Who said it was for me? Aren't you in on this?”
Giles intervened once more, his eyes on his wristwatch. “This is all very enthralling, but may I remind you, Kenneth, that I came here to talk to you of something quite different? I suggest that we close this entirely arid discussion.”
“Certainly!” said Mesurier, his eyes smouldering. “I'm leaving in any case. I may say that if I'd known the sort of thing I was going to be treated to I should never have come. Though I suppose I might have guessed! Oh, please don't trouble to show me out!” This last savagely polite remark was cast at Antonia, who, however, paid no heed to it, but followed him into the hall, carefully shutting the door behind her.