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“That's it,” said Roger. “I was with a friend.”

“And your friend's name?”

“Flossie,” said Roger. “At least it may have been Florence, but that's what I called her.”

At this point Giles turned away rather hastily, and walked over to the window. The Superintendent was in no mood to share his obvious amusement, and merely rapped out: “Flossie who?”

“Well, there you rather have me,” said Roger. “I didn't ask her. I mean, why should I?”

“I see,” said the Superintendent. “You spent the night at an address you don't know, with a woman whose name you don't know. Is that what you expect me to believe?”

“It doesn't matter to me what you believe,” said Roger. “You can do as you like about it. The point is you can't prove I didn't. And don't go rounding up all the Flossies in London for me to identify, because, though I'm not a shy man, I'll be damned if I'll do that.”

Antonia, joining her cousin by the window, said wistfully: “I do wish Kenneth were here.”

“I'm thankful he isn't,” said Giles.

She said more softly: “Do you think Roger did it, Giles?”

“God knows!”

At the other end of the studio Superintendent Hannasyde was speaking. “Was it the news of your brother's death which brought you back from Monte Carlo, Mr Vereker?”

“Oh no!” said Roger. “I didn't know anything about that. As a matter of fact, that particular System didn't work out right. Of course, I may have muddled it, but I'm inclined to think it wasn't a good one. However, it's made me think of something that I rather fancy may be pretty useful, so it doesn't much matter. Only it was a pity they would insist on sending me home, because I might have raised some money somehow or other. I told them I wasn't going to commit suicide - well, do I look the sort of man who'd shoot himself? Of course I don't! - but it was no use.”

“Do you never read the papers, Mr Vereker? Your brother's death was widely reported.”

“I wouldn't say never,” replied Roger conscientiously. “Occasionally one hasn't anything better to do, but there's always something better to do at Monte Carlo. And if you think it over you'll see that if I read the papers, and knew about Arnold being murdered, I shouldn't have come home.”

“As far as I can make out you had no choice in the matter,” said Hannasyde tartly.

“Now, don't start losing your temper,” advised Roger. “No one forced me to come and look my relations up, so I could quite easily have lain low till it all blew over.”

“You had to look your relations up, as you call it, because you were badly in need of money,” said Hannasyde.

“That's perfectly true,” conceded Roger, “but if you'd been broke as many times as I have you'd know that there are always ways of rubbing along somehow. You don't suppose I should go shoving my head into a noose just because I wanted some money, do you?”

“I think,” said Hannasyde, getting up, “that in common with your half-brother, you suffer from a delusion that you are clever enough to get away with anything. Therefore I judge that you are very likely to have done just that.”

“Have it your own way,” said Roger equably. “And, talking of money, I want to talk business with my cousin when you're quite finished asking me questions.”

“I have finished,” said Hannasyde. He turned. “Goodbye, Miss Vereker. I'm sorry to have interrupted your tea-party.” He nodded to Giles Carrington and walked over to the door.

“You don't understand me at all,” complained Roger. “I don't pretend to be clever. In fact, most people seem to think I'm a bit of a fool. Not that I agree with that, because I'm not a fool by any means. And while we're on the subject, it's my belief Kenneth isn't half what he's cracked up to be either. You may think he's very bright, but all I can say is -”

The door closed behind the Superintendent. Roger looked slightly pained, but quite resigned. “Gone off in a huff,” he remarked. “One of those touchy people.”

However, there were no signs of ill-humour about Hannasyde when, some hours later, he faced Giles Carrington across a dinner-table. He had accepted Giles's invitation to dinner without any hesitation, and the twinkle in his eye was clearly discernible as he remarked: “I can't make up my mind which of your cousins I would most like to convict of this murder. Are you letting that - that lunatic get his hands on the Vereker fortune?”

“What can we do?” shrugged Giles. “He's the heir all right. How does he strike you?”

“I should hate to be rude about any relative of yours,” replied Hannasyde grimly.

“Do you believe his story?”

“No. But I can't say I disbelieve it either. I'm doing what I can to check up on it, of course - without much hope of success. I'm also making inquiries at all the likely restaurants - so far without any success at all. I can't discover where Arnold Vereker dined on the night of his death. That's what I really want to know. All these suspects, promising as they seem to be, with their motives and their lack of alibis, are nothing but a lot of blind alleys. If Kenneth Vereker didn't exist, everything would point to Roger. But Kenneth does exist, and there's not a penny to choose between him and Roger. Both had the same motive, neither has a credible alibi. But which am I to arrest?” He took a salted almond from the dish in front of him and ate it. “I'm pinning my hopes to the finding of the restaurant where Arnold Vereker dined that night, if he did dine at one. Hemingway has a photograph of him, which he's trotting round, and of course we've made inquiries at all his usual haunts. But we have to face the fact that he may have dined at a private house - with one of his lady-loves probably. I think I've seen most of them, but you never know. At Cavelli's where he seems to have been a pretty frequent visitor, they tell me he had been in the habit, lately, of bringing a new lady to dine there - dark, good-looking girl, unknown to Cavelli. On the other hand, the head waiter at the Cafe Morny says that the last time Vereker was there he had an ash-blonde in tow. It isn't very helpful, is it?”

“The trouble is, it was too simple a murder,” said Giles. “Now had you found my cousins's body in a locked room, the key on the inside, all the windows bolted -”

Hannasyde smiled. “Oh, yes, that would have been easy compared with this,” he said. “We should at least have had something to go on. It's always the straight forward killings that present the worst difficulties. Once people start being too clever, and try to present us with insoluble mysteries, they are apt to give themselves away. These apparently impossible murders are like a good chess problem - mate in three moves, and only one possible solution. But when you get a perfectly simple murder like this, you can see at least half a dozen ways of bringing off a mate, and the Lord only knows which is the right one!”

Giles picked up the decanter, and refilled both the glasses. “I see I shall have to take a hand in this myself!” he said meditatively.

The Superintendent laughed. “Talented amateur, eh? I wish you luck!”

“You never know,” murmured Giles.

Hannasyde looked up quickly. “Have you got hold of something?”

“No,” said Giles. “Can't say I have.”

“I don't trust you,” said Hannasyde bluntly. “For two pins you'd conceal some vital clue from me - if you could.”

“Oh no!” said Giles. “Not unless I thought divulging it would lead to a family scandal. But don't be alarmed: I haven't discovered a vital clue.”

Hannasyde looked suspicious, but beyond requesting his host not to attempt to pull any Quick-Watson! stunts during the course of his amateur investigations, he said no more about it.

Almost immediately after dinner he took his leave, and nearly collided on the stairs, on his way out, with Antonia Vereker, who was being towed up at a great rate by one of her dogs.

She betrayed no embarrassment at meeting Hannasyde, but said “Hullo,” in her casual way, adding darkly that she always knew her cousin was playing a double game.