“That's right,” nodded Roger. “Amazon parrots. Not those grey ones with pink tails, but green ones. The sort that screech.” The story began to grip him; warming to the theme, he continued: 'Thought I could do a deal. You'd be surprised at the demand there is for parrots in Portugal.”
“I should,” interpolated Hannasyde grimly.
“Anyone would be,” said Roger. “I was myself. But there it is. The idea was to ship a lot over to this man I was telling you about. The only trouble was we couldn't come to terms, so the best thing for me to do was to see him in person.”
“I trust you arrived at an agreement,” said Hannasyde, with heavy sarcasm.
“Well, no,” said Roger, ever fertile. “We didn't, and the whole thing is more or less in abeyance, because he wanted to buy the parrots in bulk, which is ridiculous, of course. However, now I've come into money I shan't bother any more about it.”
“I say, what a shame Kenneth's missing all this!” said Antonia. “Where are the parrots supposed to be?”
“Round about the Amazon,” said Roger. “You have to catch them.”
“Yes, I can just see you penetrating into forests and laying snares for parrots. You are an ass!”
“Well, I shouldn't do that myself. I should employ people,” said Roger. “Of course, if the business grew, and I daresay it would, the idea was to start a farm and breed them the same way that people breed silver foxes and things. Properly managed there might be a lot of money in it, because if the purchaser has to pay ten pounds for a parrot (and very often a good parrot costs more than that), you can see for yourself that the profit per parrot is pretty considerable.” He decided that the parrots had served their turn, and jettisoned them. “But, as I say, I've given up thinking about it now that I've come into money. They're really beside the point.”
“I agree with you,” said Hannasyde. “I have ascertained, Mr Vereker, that you were a passenger on board the SS Pride of London, which docked at Liverpool on 16th June — the day before that on which your brother was murdered.”
Roger leaned back in his chair. “Well, if you've ascertained it, that's that,” he observed. “It's silly to argue points like that with detectives, so I'll tell you right away that the parrots were just a little joke of mine.”
“I am aware of that,” replied Hannasyde. “We shall get on better and faster if you don't make any more jokes.”
“A lot of people think that speed is the curse of the age,” said Roger. “I can't say I'm keen on it myself. Mind you, I'm not at all sure there isn't something in the parrot scheme. The more I think of it the more I think there might be. Supposing people started trimming hats with parrot-feathers, for instance?”
“Mr Vereker, I am not quite fool enough to believe that you are the fool you pretend to be. Shall we abandon the subject of parrots?”
“Just as you like,” said Roger amiably.
“You admit that you landed in Liverpool on Friday, 16th June?”
“If you've been nosing round the shipping agents, there's no point in asking me whether I admit it or not. It's a great pity you've been so inquisitive, because you're bound to waste a lot of time trying to make out I murdered Arnold, and I can tell you at the start I didn't.”
“If you are so sure that I shall be wasting my time, Mr Vereker, why did you try to conceal the fact that you were in England on the 17th June?”
“Now that's what I call a damned silly question,” said Roger. “It's obvious that if it was known that I was in England then I should have had the police after me like a pack of bloodhounds. Well, what I mean is, look at the way you're behaving now! Not that I blame you, because naturally you're bound to do it. But that's just it. I turn up one day, broke to the wide, and Arnold gets himself murdered the day after. I should be a bigger fool than any I've ever met with if I didn't see who was going to be suspected once that leaked out. I don't like unpleasantness, and I don't like policemen. What's more, I find all this sort of thing very exhausting, because I'm not one of these people who always want to be using their brains, trying to remember a lot of unimportant details. It makes my head ache. All I want is peace and quiet.”
“Nevertheless, Mr Vereker, I must ask you to cast your mind back to the day you landed, and tell me just what you did.”
Roger sighed, but he seemed to be more or less resigned to the necessity of answering, and said in a weary voice: “Well, I came to London. Naturally. What else should I do?”
“On the Friday?”
“If you've been making a lot of inquiries, you must know as well as I do that we didn't dock till late,” said Roger.
“Certainly I know it, but you could still have journeyed to London that day.”
“Well, I didn't. I don't like night travel. Never did. Some people sleep better on a train than anywhere. All I can say is, I don't.”
“When did you come to London, then?”
“Next day, of course. But it's no use asking me what time the train got in, because I don't remember. I had lunch on it.”
“And when you arrived in London, what did you do?”
Roger thought this over for a moment, and then asked: “Do you know what I did?”
“I am asking you,” replied Hannasyde.
“I know you are, and that's just the trouble. The point is, if I know just how much you know, it'll save a great deal of bother. I mean, it's no use my telling you I went to the Zoo if you're going to prove I spent the day in the British Museum. At the same time, I don't want to tell you anything I needn't. You see my difficulty?”
Giles Carrington interposed before Hannasyde could reply: “May I give you a piece of advice, Roger?”
“Anybody can do whatever they like as far as I'm concerned,” said Roger. “Mind you, I don't particularly want your advice, because as far as I can see you're hand in glove with this Superintendent Osric - no, not Osric, but, anyway, whatever his name is.”
Giles disregarded this. “Don't play the fool. You're not dealing with a fool.”
“Is that your advice?” demanded Roger incredulously. “It is.”
“Well, I don't think much of it. You can't expect me to change my habits at my time of life. I've always had a gift for taking things cheerfully.”
“This particular brand of cheerfulness is likely to land you in trouble,” said Giles rather sternly.
There was a distinct gleam of intelligence in the hazy, bloodshot eyes. “Oh no, it isn't!” said Roger. “Nobody's going to land me in trouble. Of course, I don't say that there may not be a Beat deal of unpleasantness. I daresay there will be. But Tony's been telling me all about this murder, and it looks pretty water-tight to me. You haven't got any clues at all, not even a finger print; you don't know who was with Arnold that night - in fact, you don't know anything at all except that he was murdered.”
“We have one clue,” said Hannasyde. “The weapon which was used.”
“Well, you prove that it belonged to me and you'll be cleverer than I take you for,” retorted Roger. “You won't do it, because it didn't belong to me. Then where are you? Back at the beginning again. You'd much better give it up now.”
“Thank you,” said Hannasyde. “If you don't mind, I'll stick to it a little longer. I should take your cousin's advice, if I were you. What did you do when you reached London?”
“This and that,” said Roger airily.
“For one who is so convinced that nothing will land him in trouble you are singularly reluctant to admit that you went to call on your brother, Mr Vereker.”
“Ah, you did know that, did you?” nodded Roger. “Oh, well, that makes it easier, I must say. I was getting very tired of hedging. Yes, I went to call on Arnold.”
“A very natural thing to do,” agreed Hannasyde.
“Of course it was a natural thing to do. I hadn't any money left.”
“I see. Am I to understand that you shared your half-brother's and sister's dislike of him?”
“No, I didn't dislike him,” said Roger, reflecting. “Not that I've really considered the matter.”