"Particularly wanted to do?"
"Well, I've got to think up a convincing excuse for being practically on the scene of the crime, haven't I?"
"You little fool," interrupted Hugh, "are you seriously proposing to fake an alibi for yourself?"
"Oh yes, I was a Girl Guide once, for about a fortnight, and they say you should always Be Prepared. Which reminds me of what I actually came to talk to you about, Mary. Do you think considering everything, it might do good if we directed the Inspector's attention to Alexis?"
"Do good?" gasped Mary. "Do you mean, try and cast suspicion on the unfortunate man?"
"Yes, but in an utterly lady-like way."
"No, I do not! I never heard of anything so - so conscienceless!"
"But, darling, don't be one of those irksome people who can't look at a thing from more than one angle! Because this is probably going to be very momentous. You can't pretend it would be a cherishing sort of thing to do to let Ermyntrude marry Alexis. The more I consort with him, the more I feel convinced he's exactly like somebody or other in Shakespeare, who smiled and smiled and was a villain. And, unless we gum up the works, there isn't a thing to stop him marrying Ermyntrude, and then abandoning the poor sweet as soon as he's hypnotised her into making a colossal settlement on him."
Mary looked appealingly towards Hugh. He said judicially: "I quite agree that it would be a mistake for your mother to marry Varasashvili, but it would be a damned dirty trick to try and cast suspicion on him, and you mustn't do it. Not that the police are likely to pay much heed to you once they've been privileged to see a little more of you."
"You never know," Vicky murmured.
"In any case, it won't be necessary for you to shove your oar in," said Hugh. "The police are naturally suspicious of everyone who was in any way connected with your stepfather."
"Yes," said Mary. "And what the Inspector won't know of the cross-currents in this house after his heart-to-heart talk with Peake, won't be worth knowing!"
Chapter Eight
Inspector Cook, who had had no very wide experience of murder cases, and who had been thrown badly out of his stride by his interview with the members of Wally Carter's family, was discovering in Peake, the butler, the first witness who gave his evidence fully, and to the point. Mrs. Peake, and the young housemaid he had soon dismissed, for the housemaid was too frightened to stop sobbing, and Mrs. Peake, a comfortably shaped woman who had, she informed him, been in the best service all her life, declined knowing anything beyond the realm of her kitchen.
But Peake gave the Inspector no trouble at all. He had been in his pantry, he said, at the time of Wally's death, but he admitted without any hesitation that he could produce no proof of this statement. When he was asked if he knew of anyone having a grudge against Wally, he looked down his thin nose, and replied primly that he believed a young man calling himself Baker had considerable cause to bear Wally a grudge.
"Yes, I want to know more about that young fellow," said the Inspector. "I understand he came up to the house to see Mr. Carter?"
"He came twice," said Peake. "Upon the first occasion, which was early yesterday afternoon, Miss Vicky interviewed him. I could not say what took place between them, I'm sure. He returned about half past nine in the evening, and although I informed him that Mr. Carter was engaged with guests, he refused to withdraw. He came upon a motor bicycle on both occasions. He appeared to me to be a very violent young man."
"Ah, violent, was he? What makes you think that?"
"He uttered threats of a mysterious nature, and when I told him to be off he put his foot down so that I was unable to shut the door."
"What sort of threats?"
"I should not like to say," replied Peake. "I paid very little heed to him, seeing that he was quite a common person, and wearing one of those red ties. I recall that he said Mr. Carter would be sorry if he refused to see him, besides ranting a great deal about his sister's honour, in a very vulgar way."
"Oh! Did Mr. Carter see him?"
"Mr. Carter was with him in the library for about half an hour."
"Did you happen to hear what was said?" asked the Inspector.
"Certainly not," replied Peake frigidly.
"Any sounds of altercation?"
"Upon my way through the hall, I noticed that Baker's voice was unbecomingly raised," admitted Peake.
"What about today? Has he been here again?"
"He has not been here to my knowledge."
"And is he the only person you know of who might have wanted to murder Mr. Carter?"
"Oh no, Inspector!" said Peake calmly.
The Inspector looked narrowly at him. "Come on, then: out with it! What other enemies had he got?"
"There is Mr. Steel, for one," answered Peake.
"Do you mean Mr. Steel of Oaklands Farm?"
"That's right, Inspector."
"What had he got against Mr. Carter?"
"It is common knowledge that Mr. Steel is greatly attached to Mrs. Carter."
"Do you mean he's in love with her?"
"That is the general opinion, Inspector. Mr. Steel is not one to hide his feelings, and I have more than once seen him look at Mr. Carter in a way which gave me quite a turn." He coughed behind his hand. "I wouldn't want to conceal anything from you, Inspector, and I am bound to say that Mr. Carter did not behave to Mrs. Carter as he should. There have been some very regrettable incidents. One could not altogether blame Mr. Steel for feeling as he did. We have thought lately in the servants' hall, that matters were approaching what one might call a crisis. Mr. Steel called to see Mrs. Carter this morning, at a time when she was greatly upset by a quarrel with Mr. Carter. When Mr. Steel left, I chanced to be within earshot, and I could not but hear what he said to Miss Cliffe in the hall."
"What was that?"
"I'm sure I don't wish to say anything that might give you a wrong impression, Inspector. Mr. Steel was in a black rage, and he told Miss Cliffe he would like to break Mr. Carter's neck."
"Did he see Mr. Carter this morning?"
"No, Inspector. He left the house saying he could not bring himself to sit at table with Mr. Carter. He told Miss Cliffe he had been in love with Mrs. Carter ever since he had first known her."
"Nice goings on in this house!" muttered the Inspector. "What about this Prince? What's he doing here?"
"Prince Varasashvili," replied Peake, "is a friend of Mrs. Carter. She met him at Antibes."
"Oh, one of those, is he?" said the Inspector knowingly.
"An impoverished foreign nobleman, I understand, Inspector. Very much the ladies' man. We have noticed that Mrs. Carter seems to be greatly taken with him."
"What about Mr. Carter?"
"Mr. Carter was not in favour of the Prince's visit. Mr. Carter went so far as to say to me, when he was slightly intoxicated, that it was his belief the Prince was after his wife's money."
,He did, did he? What about Mrs. Carter's daughter?
It wouldn't by any chance be her he's after?"
"I fancy not, Inspector."
"What kind of a girl is this Miss Fanshawe?"
"Miss Vicky, Inspector, is a very unexpected young lady. One never knows what she will be at next, in a manner of speaking. She is devoted to Mrs. Carter."
"And the other one?"
"Miss Cliffe is a nice young lady. She was Mr. Carter's ward, and Mr. Carter did tell me that he should leave all his money to her."
"Well, that wasn't much, by all accounts."