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“Did you agree to do it?”

“We were going to discuss it later. I told him I was working for Grant.”

“I want to hire you to work on this.”

“You do? Why, do you mistrust the police too?”

“Well, I... yes. That’s it. I mistrust them. I don’t like the way — look at that rooster Brissenden—”

Fox pivoted out from his hips to shove away the table with his tray on it, and to reach for a chair and pull it closer. “Sit down here,” he muttered, “and I won’t have to talk so loud. That man has an ear cocked to listen.”

Jeffrey yanked the chair another foot forward and sat. Fox went on, “I could just say no and let it go at that, but I feel kind of sorry for you, so I want to explain that you’d be wasting your money. If I discovered that a member of your family had fired that shot, the fact that I was in your employ wouldn’t prevent—”

“Don’t be a goddam mucker, Fox.”

“All right. Weren’t you worried by the fear that your sister killed Arnold? Sure you were. And now you’re afraid — don’t glare like that. Learn to control your face. Do you play poker? Pretend you didn’t fill and you’re going to ride it. You’re afraid she did this too, and you think the police may miss it but I may not and you want to sew me up. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I admit I would like to work on this and it would be a big advantage—”

“Mr. Thorpe! Come in, please?”

Jeffrey shot up out of his chair and strode to the door that was being held open for him, fifteen pairs of eyes following him across the terrace.

Fox arose to retrieve a bunch of grapes that was left on his tray and, pulling one off and popping it into his mouth, wandered to the far edge of the terrace where Henry Jordan sat gazing gloomily at a twig of clematis hanging listless in the still heavy air.

“You ought to eat something,” Fox declared.

Jordan shook his head. “I was hungry and I didn’t want to eat here and then this — my appetite went.”

“Eat anyway. Keep your voice down. Where were you when you heard the shot?”

“Sitting under a tree around the corner there. Some men came out here and I left.”

“Was anyone with you? Anybody in sight?”

“I didn’t see anyone.”

“That’s too bad.” Fox spat a seed on to the lawn and took another grape. “You’re stuck for a good one. What I want to say, I regard our obligation to guard Thorpe’s little secret as still binding. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you would, for your daughter’s sake if nothing else. But they’ll make it hard for you. They’ll want the details of your friendship with Thorpe. Keep it simple. Don’t put in any complications you don’t have to.”

“I’ll try to.” Jordan gulped. “I’m glad you came and spoke to me. I’m afraid of it. My mind doesn’t work fast.”

“It’ll work better if you eat something. I mean it. I’ll send for a tray for you. Keep it simple and don’t get rattled.”

For errand boy he selected the trooper named Hardy, figuring that he had established a little prestige there. Hardy having acquiesced and departed for a tray for Mr. Jordan, Fox ate another grape and continued his wandering to the two chairs behind a table near the wall of the house, where Andrew Grant and his niece were sitting and saying nothing. They looked up at him. He pushed a tray away and sat on the edge of the table. There was no warden within ten yards.

“I certainly pick good places to go calling,” said Grant grimly.

“You sure do,” Fox agreed. “Did you shoot Thorpe?”

“No.”

Nancy began, “It’s the most incredible—”

“Please, Miss Grant. I’d like to ask a couple of questions and get brief answers. One of us may be called in there at any moment.” He returned to Andy. “Where were you when you heard the shot?”

“I had just left the front terrace, heading this way, starting to look for Nancy. Mrs. Pemberton had gone into the house a little before, asking me to wait there for her, but I wanted to find Nancy to tell her I had agreed to stay for lunch.”

“Was there anyone in sight at the moment you heard the shot?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t see anyone.”

“Let’s hope someone saw you.” Fox shifted to Nancy. “Where were you?”

“Right here. On this terrace.”

“Who else was there?”

“No one.”

“What about Jeffrey Thorpe?”

Nancy’s chin went up. “I don’t know where he was. He had followed me down to the swimming pool and I was trying my best to tolerate him on account of what you said last night, but he... he annoyed me and I told him a few things and left him there and came back here.”

“Weren’t there some men here?”

“Not when I heard the shot. They were there when I came, four of them, I think, but pretty soon they went in the house.”

“How long before the shot was fired?”

“Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. What I don’t—”

“One second. Were you here when Andy came by after he heard the shot?”

“I didn’t come this way,” Grant said. “The shot didn’t startle me much because I thought it was a car, but then somebody in the house let out a yell and I ran across the front terrace and in that way.”

Fox grunted. “Better and better.” To Nancy: “That blue thing that was on the floor in the library. You say it’s your scarf?”

“Yes, it is. That’s what I was saying is incredible—”

“Why is it incredible?”

“Because I don’t know how it got there. I know I didn’t take it there.”

“You didn’t have it on when you went through the music room.”

“I know very well I didn’t. I hadn’t had it on at all. When we got here and got out of the car I left it on the seat.”

Fox frowned. “You must be mistaken.”

“I am not mistaken! I left it there on the seat of the car and I haven’t been back there!”

“Don’t talk so loud. This begins to have points. If you were right here on this terrace, why did it take you so long to get into the house, and where were you when you heard Andy calling your name, and why were you panting when you went through the music room?”

Nancy flushed. “If that’s the tone—”

“Nonsense. Never mind my tone, you’ll hear worse ones when they get you in there. I’m in a hurry.”

“Answer him,” Grant said.

“Well, I...” Her color stayed. “I was panting because I had been running. The shot didn’t sound like a backfire to me, it sounded like a shot. I couldn’t tell what direction it came from, but I thought it came from the swimming pool. I suppose the reason I thought that was because that idiot had been talking, trying to be funny, talking about committing suicide if I didn’t—”

“What idiot? Jeffrey Thorpe?”

“Yes. Like a perfect fool, threatening to kill himself unless I — but the shot wouldn’t have made me think of that if it hadn’t been that he had had a revolver in his pocket and naturally—”

“Did he show you the revolver?”

“No, he didn’t show it to me, but I saw it. So did Uncle Andy.”

“Did you?”

“Yes,” said Grant. “When we drove up here he came out to welcome us, and a corner of his jacket caught on something and there was a gun in his hip pocket. A big one. Nancy and I both saw it.”

To Nancy again: “Was it still in his pocket at the swimming pool?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see it, but I had seen it, and then his talking like an idiot about killing himself — when I heard the shot I thought it came from the direction of the pool and I jumped and ran. I ran all the way to the pool and it’s quite a distance. There was no one there. The water is clear and he wasn’t — there was nothing in it. Then I heard Uncle Andy calling, yelling my name, and I ran back to the house.”