"Och, hasn't he eyes in his head?" interrupted Grant. "Will you not hold your peace, you silly man?"
"- a matter of seconds!" ended Pershore, swelling with indignation. "You'll observe, Chief Inspector, that the wire is twisted hard up against the neck of the murdered man, and again just below where the strands part, showing that between these two places some implement has been inserted, and later withdrawn."
"Found?" asked Hemingway, who did not appear to be paying much attention.
"It has not so far been discovered, Chief Inspector," owned Pershore.
Hemingway's glance flickered round the room. "Nothing here likely to be suitable. Might be almost anything, and won't do us any good if we did find it. I fancy I see this bird leaving his prints on it! Gone over the wire, Tom? You won't get anything off it, of course, but we've got to try everything." He nodded to the photographer. "Now then, I want a shot of the whole of this corner of the room first, taking it from about where you are."
For the next few minutes, he was fully occupied with the photographer; and when this worthy, having taken all the photographs which were demanded, began to pack up his impedimenta, he stood still for a moment or two, still studying the unpleasant scene.
"The ambulance, Chief Inspector, is waiting to remove the body, if you have finished," said Pershore.
"Is this exactly how he was found?" Hemingway asked. "Nothing been moved?"
"According to the evidence given by Sir Roderick Vickerstown and Dr Westruther, which I have no reason to doubt, neither of them touched the body at all. I questioned the doctor very particularly, thinking he might have tried to resuscitate the murdered man, but he states that he saw at a glance that life was extinct; and he did not disturb the body. Later, the Divisional Surgeon, of course -"
"Yes, I'm not worrying about him. Nothing in the room been touched?"
"Nothing, barring the telephone-receiver, which I found hanging on the end of the wire, having apparently been dropped by the murdered man. It was replaced," said Inspector Pershore grandly, under my supervision, and has since been photographed for finger-prints."
"All right. Have the body taken away," said Hemingway. "Did Dr Yoxall say - No, never mind! I'll see him myself."
The Inspector relayed the order to remove the body, saw that Hemingway had pulled the heavy brocade curtain away from the window behind the telephonechair, and said: "There's no doubt the murderer was concealed behind that curtain, Chief Inspector."
"There's a lot of doubt," responded Hemingway tartly. "And if you go on calling me Chief Inspector every time you open your mouth, you and me will fall out. It's getting on my nerves. I don't say the murderer wasn't concealed: he may have been; but from the look of things it seems highly probably he wasn't concealed at all."
"You mean, Chief - you mean that the victim was not expecting the murderer to attack him?" said Pershore slowly.
"Well, I don't myself expect to be murdered when I sit down to a game of Bridge with a party of friends. It may have happened just like you think, but to my mind, the chair's too close to the window for anyone to hide himself behind the curtain without attracting his victim's attention when he came out. If there wasn't a rustle, anyone sitting there, at an angle to the window, would be bound to see the curtain move, out of the corner of his eye. In which case, he'd have had time to have put up a bit of a struggle, at the very least. No sign of any struggle here, not a vestige. A nice, neat job, that's what I call it."
"It is a cruel, wicked murder!" said Inspector Grant severely.
"You only say that because you don't like strangling cases. All murders are wicked. I've seen a lot more cruel than this one, and so have you." He watched the shrouded body of Seaton-Carew carried out of the room on a stretcher, and said: "That's better: now we can get on! What I want to know now, Pershore -"
"The suspected persons are being detained -"
"What I want to know now," repeated Hemingway, "is why this character, who lives in Jermyn Street, gets rung up in somebody else's house. In fact, is it established that he was rung up?"
"Naturally that point had occurred to me, Chief Inspector. It appears that the murdered man himself arranged to have the call put through to this house, and mentioned the matter when at dinner, in the hearing of the five other people seated at the table. The butler states that he was not in the dining-room at the time, and knew nothing about the arrangement. I've got no reason to disbelieve him so far," said Pershore darkly, "but he's not a good witness."
"I daresay you didn't handle him right: there's a knack in examining butlers. So, on the face of it, only five people knew this call was coming through? Quite enough to be going on with too. Who answered the 'phone? The butler?"
"Miss Birtley states that she answered it, in this room. It was a Personal Call for the murdered man, from Doncaster."
"Have it traced, Sandy."
"At the time when it came- through, the murdered man was playing at one of the tables in the library, which is the room directly underneath this one. There were eight other tables in the drawing-room, which occupies the whole of the first floor; and barring Mrs. Haddington, and one of the guests, whom I will come to in due course, no one left that room during the period in question. We checked up carefully on that, and there doesn't seem to be any doubt about it, for they were all playing this Bridge-game, and nobody could have left the room without the three other people at his table remembering it. The names and addresses were taken, of course, but I saw no reason to detain anyone but this Sydney Butterwick I was speaking about."
"Quite right. Go on!"
The Inspector once more consulted his notes. "Miss Birtley's story is that when she came out of this room, with the intention of summoning Mr. Seaton-Carew to the telephone, Mrs. Haddington had come out of the drawing-room on to the landing above this. Mrs. Haddington, according to Miss Birtley, showed annoyance when she heard the call was for Mr. Seaton-Carew, but told Miss Birtley to go and fetch him up to take it. In this, Mrs. Haddington concurs. She then told Miss Birtley to keep an eye on things while she went up to her room, which is on the second floor. Miss Birtley then went down to the library, where the murdered man was playing -"
"Look, I thought you'd shaken off that habit!" objected Hemingway. "Stick to the man's name! If you're going to talk about the murdered man playing Bridge you'll give me the creeps!"
"Very well, Chief Inspector. What I was about to say when interrupted was, where the - Mr. Seaton-Carew was playing Bridge at one of the tables. At the same table were Miss Guisborough, who was his partner, and is twin sister to Lord Guisborough, also in the library at the time; Mr. Godfrey Poulton; and a foreign lady, calling herself Baroness -" He drew a breath, and enunciated painstakingly: "Baroness Rozhdesvenskiy!"
"How much?"
The Inspector displayed his printed note. "I got her to spell it, and the way I said it is the way she did."
"It may be, but if you take my advice you won't say it any more, or you'll have people thinking you've got something the matter with you. As far as I'm concerned, she's the Baroness. Don't tell me! She's a Russian, and talked you silly! Let's get back to Miss Birtley's story!"
"Miss Birtley states that a moment or two after Mr. Seaton-Carew left the library, during which time she emptied a couple of ashtrays, and replaced them, she went up to the drawing-room, picking up on the way a tray containing a whisky-and-soda, which she had put down on the chair outside this door when she originally answered the call. This she carried to a Colonel Cartmel, in the drawing-room, setting it down on a small table at his elbow. The Colonel more or less corroborated this, saying that he did not remember Miss Birtley doing it, but found the glass there when next he looked round. He was playing the hand at the time, and Miss Birtley did not speak to him. The other people at the table seem to think they remember seeing Miss Birtley put the glass down, but they are what I should call vague about it. Miss Birtley states that she lingered for a minute or two in the drawing-room, saw that one of the cigarette-boxes was nearly empty, and went downstairs to fetch up a fresh supply from a cupboard in the dining-room. In the dining-room, she states that she found Mr. Butterwick, drinking a whisky-and-soda, supplied to him by the butler. She did not exchange any words with him, but got out the cigarettes, and went back to the drawing-room. That," said Inspector Pershore, "is her story."