Hannasyde noted down the number of the pistol, gave her back the licence, and prepared to depart. Kenneth stopped him. “How serious are you in thinking that this may not have been suicide, friend Osric?” he demanded.
“You have reminded me yourself that I am not a Vereker,” replied Hannasyde. “I don't joke on such matters.”
“Some reason up your sleeve for thinking it murder?”
“Yes,” said Hannasyde. “Several reasons. Is there anything else you would like to know?”
“Certainly there is,” answered Kenneth, a trifle unexpectedly. “I want very much to know who, after me, is the next heir.”
His words produced a surprised silence. Hannasyde broke it. “That is hardly my province,” he said.
“I hate to contradict you,” said Kenneth, “but it is very much your province. If this was murder, I look like being the next victim. And, frankly, I don't fancy myself in the part. I want police protection, please.”
Chapter Twenty
The Superintendent looked at him for a moment, under slightly frowning brows. It was Antonia who spoke. “But aren't I the next heir?” she asked. “Giles, aren't I?”
“I'm not sure, Tony. Your father didn't visualize the deaths of all three sons when he made his Will. You may be.”
“What of it?” said Kenneth blandly.
Antonia said, with feeling: “You beast, Kenneth!”
“If you are serious in wanting police protection no doubt you will get it, upon application to the proper quarter,” said Hannasyde. “Meanwhile, I should like to see your maid - Murgatroyd —- please.”
“That ought to be good value,” observed Kenneth, and lounged over to the door, and called to Murgatroyd.
She came at once, and, upon being told that the Superintendent wanted to speak to her, confronted him with undisguised hostility in her eyes. “Well?” she said. “No need to tell me something's happened: I can see that.”
“You'd never guess what, though,” said Kenneth. “Roper's dead.”
She looked quickly from one to the other of them. “Dead?” she repeated. “You're not making game of me, are you, Master Kenneth?”
“Ask my friend-the-Superintendent,” he shrugged.
She drew in her breath in a hissing sound through her teeth. “Well, that's a surprise, I will say. Dead! And drunk at the time, I'll be bound. And no loss, either - though I'm sure I didn't wish him as much harm as that.” She glanced at Hannasyde. “What is it you want to ask me? I don't know how it happened, if that's what you're after.”
“Where were you last night?” he asked.
“What's that got to do with you?” she retorted. “You're not going to try and make out Mr Roger was murdered, are you?”
“I am afraid I have a good deal of reason for thinking that he was,” replied Hannasyde. “He was found in his flat, early this morning, shot through the head.”
Murgatroyd's rosy cheeks turned quite pale. She took a step backwards, was stopped by a chair and sat down in it with a plump. “Oh, my goodness gracious me!” she gasped. “Whatever next? Of all the unnatural - I never did in all my born days!”
“And needless to say,” put in Kenneth, “the police think I did it.”
This brought her up out of the chair with a bounce. “Oh, they do, do they? Well, let me tell you,” she said, rounding upon Hannasyde, “that Mr Kenneth was at a dance all last night, as Miss Rivers here can swear to!”
“That wasn't what I asked you,” said Hannasyde quietly. “I want you tell me where you were.”
“At the Pictures,” she replied.
“Alone?”
“Yes, I was.”
“And afterwards?”
“Straight back here, where I was when Miss Tony came in.”
“What time did you get back?”
“Twenty minutes past eleven. You can ask Mr Peters, if you like - you'll find him farther down the mews. He owns the lock-up garages, and he saw me come in, and asked me what the picture was like. Which I told him.”
There was nothing more to be got out of her. Hannasyde let her go, and in a few minutes had left the flat himself.
For some moments after the front door had shut behind the Superintendent no one spoke. It was Murgatroyd, coming back into the room, who broke the silence. “I've got my vegetables to do,” she said prosaically, “let alone all this washing up, so it stands to reason I can't waste time talking. You'd better come and give me a hand, Miss Tony. You won't do any good sitting there looking scared. It's a nasty set-out, and no mistake, but brooding won't mend matters.”
Antonia looked at Giles. “Giles, it's all getting so beastly,” she said. “I didn't mind about Arnold, but I hate this! Kenneth - you were at the Albert Hall the whole night, weren't you?”
“God bless the girl, now she thinks I did it!” Giles said, watching Kenneth: “You lied badly. You were in Roger's flat last night, weren't you?”
“He wasn't! I tell you he never left the Hall!” Leslie struck in fiercely.
Giles paid no heed to her, but kept his eyes on Kenneth's face. Kenneth met that look challengingly.
“Why should I have been in Roger's flat? Can you think of any reason?”
“Yes,” said Giles. “I can.”
Kenneth's lip curled. “I see. Murder. You're wrong.”
“Not murder. Jealousy.”
A flush crept into Kenneth's lean cheeks. “Again you're wrong.”
“Very well, what was the reason?”
“You've already heard me say that I didn't leave the Albert Hall until past four.”
“Is that statement likely to be corroborated by the other members of your party? Miss Rivers gave that alibi, not you. I was watching you; you weren't expecting it. I think you nearly denied it.”
“Why don't you join the police-force?” inquired Kenneth. “You've missed your vocation.”
Giles got up. “You young fool, can't you see what a tight corner you're in?” he said. “Lie to Hannasyde if you must, but if you lie to me you can look for another lawyer. I won't touch your case.”
“As you wish,” Kenneth said.
“Don't throw him over, Giles!” Antonia begged, a catch in her voice. “Please , please don't desert us.”
His face softened; he said more gently: “I shan't do that, Tony. But I can't handle a case where I'm kept in the dark.”
“All very moving,” remarked Kenneth. “So far I haven't asked you to handle my case. Supposing someone in my party did lose sight of me for half an hour? Have you ever danced at the Albert Hall? It's a largish sort of place, you know.”
“Yes, and we sat out a good bit,” Leslie said.
Antonia looked anxiously at Giles. “You think he's in a mess, Giles?”
“I know he's in a mess.”
“Any fool could see that,” said Kenneth contemptuously. “First I kill Arnold, then Roger turns up, so naturally I have to kill him as well. All for filthy lucre too. Take that worried look off your face, Tony; there's no evidence.”
“There's your pipe,” she pointed out.
“They won't hang me on that,” he answered.
They could get no more out of him than that. He walked up and down the studio, his hands in his pockets and his pipe clenched between his teeth. “It's possible they may arrest me,” he said, frowning.
Giles, who had moved to the desk, and was flicking over the pages of the telephone directory, glanced up. “More than that.”
“Very well, more than that. You ought to know. But it isn't enough if they prove I left the Albert Hall during the dance. They must prove I went to see Roger, and that they can't do.”
Giles, having apparently found what he was looking for, shut the directory and laid it down. “Think it over,” he advised. “And don't overlook the fact that no one has so strong a motive as you for murdering Arnold, and then Roger. I'm going now, but if you come to your senses, ring me up!”
“What, with a full confession?” jibed Kenneth.