Julian looked a little taken aback, “I didn’t mean to put it as strongly as that,” he said.
There was a little pause, and then Maud said, “Go on, darling. Tell him the rest.”
Julian still hesitated. “I don’t know whether I…”
“If you won’t, then I will,” said Maud. Her small jaw was set in a determined line, and Henry was vividly reminded of the portrait of the Head which hung in the hall. She leaned forward. “Mr. Tibbett, this terrible Mason man is almost certainly going to accuse Julian of killing his father.”
“Really?” Remembering his conversation with Frank Mason the previous evening, Henry was intrigued. He decided to give nothing away. “Whatever makes you think that?”
“Well, you see, when Maud turned him down — you’d heard that old Mason had the effrontery to propose to her, I suppose?”
“I’d heard,” said Henry.
“Naturally, Maud refused him, but he kept on pestering her. And so I — well — I had a row with him.”
“What exactly do you mean by ‘pestering’?” Henry asked.
There was a vibrant silence.
Julian said, “Well — coming to see her, telephoning…”
“Miss Manciple,” said Henry, “you are a very modern young woman, with a very strong personality, if I may say so. Did you really need this sort of Victorian chivalry?”
“You’re laughing at me,” said Maud angrily.
“Yes,” said Henry. “And I shall continue to do so until you tell me what it was that really upset you about Raymond Mason.”
The glance that the two young people exchanged was as eloquent as a page of written statement. Then Maud said, “Oh, very well. It was about Julian.”
“What about Julian?”
“Well, not about Julian really. About Uncle Claud.”
“Could you be a little more explicit, Miss Manciple?” Henry asked politely.
“I’ve applied for a job at Bradwood as Sir Claud’s personal assistant,” said Julian loudly. It was almost a shout of defiance. “I heard last week that I’ve gotten it. Is there any harm in that?”
Henry remembered something that Violet Manciple had said. “You mean,” he said, “that Mason was hinting at nepotism?” There was a dead silence. Henry elaborated. “Marry the niece and make sure of the job with the uncle. Is that it?” Silence again. “Just what are your qualifications, Mr. Manning-Richards?”
This goaded Maud into angry speech. “He’s got all the qualifications he needs. It’s an administrative job, after all. It’s not supposed to be a position for a physicist, just for an able organizer with a good knowledge of science and physics, which is exactly what Julian has. I don’t see why we should all be put at a disadvantage, just because Uncle Claud happens to be the Director-General at Bradwood!”
“Nobody has made any insinuations against you, have they, Miss Manciple?” Henry asked. “I’ve been told that you got your job entirely on your own merit, and that Sir Claud didn’t even know you had applied until…”
“It’s rather a different case, sir,” said Julian. He spoke stiffly. “This particular appointment — the one I hope to get — is in Sir Claud’s personal gift. He chooses the chap he wants,” he added, lapsing into the vernacular.
“I see,” said Henry. “And this was upsetting Raymond Mason.”
“It wasn’t upsetting him at all,” said Julian. “He was reveling in it. Using it to pursue Maud with these vile insinuations that I was only marrying her because — well — you can imagine. That was why I had that row with him.”
“And threatened to kill him?”
“I did nothing of the sort. I just — well — I made it clear that it would be healthier for him to keep away from Cregwell Grange in the future.”
“Oh, well,” said Henry, “that gives me a very complete picture of the state of affairs as of Friday evening. I wouldn’t worry too much…”
“There’s more to come,” said Maud ominously. “Tell him, darling.”
“Yesterday morning,” said Julian, “I had to go up to London, as I think you know. When I got back to Cregwell in the afternoon I called in at the Lodge.”
“Why did you do that?” Henry asked.
Julian looked a little embarrassed. “I — well — I was taking the short cut back from the station, which passes the Lodge, and I saw Frank Mason’s car there. I felt a bit badly about the whole thing — I mean, Mason being dead, and having had that row with him, and so on. So I thought I’d go in and make my peace, as it were, offer my condolences.”
“I see. And did you?”
“I didn’t get the chance. As soon as Frank saw me, he started to abuse me. It seems that his father had telephoned him and told him all about the fight we’d had, and he said,” Julian swallowed, “he said that he was going to tell you that I had killed Raymond Mason.”
“Which is a black lie!” Maud burst out. “How could Julian have killed him? He was with me down by the river when it happened.”
“I think,” said Henry, “that you’ve both worked yourselves up quite unnecessarily. As a matter of fact, Julian could have killed Raymond Mason, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t. In fact, I don’t think…” He checked himself, changing his mind. “I don’t think,” he resumed, “that there’s anything more I can do here this afternoon. I’m very grateful for all you’ve told me; it fills in the corners of the puzzle. By the way, Mr. Manning-Richards, just why did you go to London on Saturday?”
Julian was obviously embarrassed. He went a dull red and asked if Henry insisted that he should answer the question. Henry, intrigued, said that while he couldn’t compel an answer he thought that it would be wise to give one. Grudgingly, Julian then divulged his dark secret. He had been to the jewelers, he said, to buy Maud’s engagement ring. It was supposed to be a secret surprise, but now — and he sheepishly brought out from his pocket a small box embellished with the insignia of one of London’s most celebrated jewelers. Inside was a very beautiful but not very large diamond solitaire ring. Whereupon Maud threw her arms around Julian’s neck, and Henry found no difficulty whatsoever in withdrawing unnoticed from the study.
In the hall he met Violet Manciple. “Ah, Mr. Tibbett? Is everything all right? Have you seen everybody you need to? Goodness me, I see it’s five o’clock already. Won’t you come into the drawing room and have a glass of sherry? George is still down at the range, but he’ll be in soon. It was so kind of you to make such a fuss of Aunt Dora. She does appreciate it. She tells me that you are intensely interested in psychic phenomena, although you put up an outward resistance to it. Something to do with your aura. You should feel flattered. According to Aunt Dora, it’s not everybody who has one. Now, do come and have a…”
“Really, Mrs. Manciple,” said Henry, “you are most kind, but I must get back now. My wife will be waiting for me at The Viking.”
“Your wife? Goodness me, Mr. Tibbett, I never realized you had a wife. Not in Cregwell, at any rate. Why, you must bring her to lunch tomorrow. We’d be delighted. Delighted. You must think me very rude not to have invited her sooner, but I had no idea…”
“Her visit here is quite unofficial, Mrs. Manciple,” said Henry. “Unlike mine, alas.”
“The working day is over,” said Mrs. Manciple firmly. “In any case, Sunday is not a working day, is it? I quite see that you must get back to your wife now, but tomorrow, without fail. I’m afraid it will only be salmon, but at least it’ll be fresh out of the river. Edwin is down there fishing at the moment…”
Henry thanked Mrs. Manciple again, and accepted the invitation for Emmy and himself. Then he added, “I wonder if I might — wash my hands before I go?”