“Yes, I had.”
“Who opened it?” inquired Fox, and he looked first at Jocelyn and then at Henry. They both shook their heads.
“I should think it was probably Miss Prentice.
“My cousin,” said Henry. “She has a deep-rooted mania—” He checked himself. “She’s a fresh-air fiend of the worst variety and continually complained that the hall was stuffy.”
“I wonder if I might ask Miss Prentice?” said Fox. “Is she at home, sir?”
The squire looked extremely uncomfortable.
“I think she’s — ah — she’s — ah — in. Yes.”
“Do you want me any longer, Mr. Fox?” asked Mrs. Ross.
“I think that will be all for the present, thank you, madam. The chief inspector would be much obliged if you could come down to the hall at about 9.15 this evening.”
“Oh? Yes, very well.”
“Thank you very much, madam.”
“I’ll see you out,” said the squire hurriedly.
They went out by the french window.
Henry offered Fox a cigarette.
“No. Thank you very much, all the same, sir.”
“Mr. Fox,” said Henry. “What do you think of the rector’s theory? I mean, the idea that Miss Campanula set the trap for my cousin, and that something happened to make her so miserable that when she was asked to play she thought: ‘Oh, well, this settles it. Here goes!’ ”
“Would you have said the deceased lady seemed very unhappy, sir?”
“Well, you know, I didn’t notice her very much. But I’ve been thinking it over, and — yes — she was rather odd. She was damned odd. For one thing, she’d evidently had a colossal row with my cousin. Or rather my cousin seemed friendly enough, but Miss C. wouldn’t say a word to her. She was a cranky old cup of tea, you know, and we none of us took much notice. Know what I mean?”
“I understand, sir,” said Fox, looking hard at Henry. “Perhaps if I could just have a word with Miss Prentice.”
“Oh, Lord!” said Henry ruefully. “Look here, Mr. Fox, you’ll find her pretty rum. You’ll think we specialize in eccentric spinsters in this part of the world, but I promise you I think the shock of this business has pushed her off at the deep-end. She seems to think the murderer’s made a mess of the first attempt, and sooner or later will have another go at her.”
“That’s not unnatural, is it, sir? Perhaps the lady would feel more comfortable with police protection.”
“I pity the protector,” said Henry. “Well, I suppose I’d better see if she’ll come down.”
“If you wouldn’t mind, sir,” said Fox comfortably.
In some trepidation, Henry mounted the stairs and tapped on Miss Prentice’s door. There was no answer. He tapped again. The door opened suddenly and Miss Prentice was revealed with her fingers to her lips, like some mysterious bucktoothed sybil.
“What’s happened?” she whispered.
“Nothing’s happened, Cousin Eleanor. It’s simply one of the men from Scotland Yard with a rather childish question to ask you.”
“Is that woman there? I won’t meet that woman.”
“Mrs. Ross has gone.”
“Henry, is that true?”
“Of course it’s true.”
“Now I’ve made you angry again. You’re very unkind to me, Henry.”
“My dear Cousin Eleanor!”
Her hand moved restlessly across the bosom of her dress.
“Yes, you are. So unkind. And I’m so fond of you. It’s only for your own good. You’re young and strong and handsome. All the Jernighams are very strong and beautiful. Don’t listen to women like that, Henry. Don’t listen to any woman. They’ll do you harm. Except dear Dinah.”
“Will you come down and speak to Inspector Fox?”
“It’s not a trap to make me meet that woman? Why is it a different man? Fox? Where’s the other man? He was a gentleman. So tall! Taller than Father Copeland.”
He saw with astonishment that the movement of her hand traced a definite pattern on her bosom. She was crossing herself.
“This man is perfectly harmless,” said Henry. “Do come.”
“Very well. My head’s splitting. I suppose I must come.”
“That’s better,” said Henry. He added awkwardly: “Cousin Eleanor, your dress is undone.”
“Oh!” She blushed crimson and, to his horror, laughed shrilly and turned aside her head. Her fingers fumbled with the fastening of her dress. Then she shrank past him and, with a kind of coquettishness in her gait, hurried downstairs.
Henry followed with a sinking heart and escorted her to the study. His father had returned and stood before the fire. Jocelyn glared uncomfortably at Miss Prentice.
“Hullo, Eleanor, here you are. This is Inspector Fox.”
Miss Prentice offered her hand and, as soon as Fox touched it, snatched it away. Her eyes were downcast, her hands pleated a fold in her dress. Fox looked calmly at her.
“I’m sorry to trouble you, Miss Prentice. I only wanted to ask if you opened one of the hall windows as you left at noon on Saturday.”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “Was that the unpardonable sin?”
“I beg your pardon, miss?”
“Did I let it in?”
“Let what in, Miss Prentice?”
“You know. But I only opened it the least little bit. A tiny crack. Of course it can make itself very small, can’t it?”
Fox adjusted his spectacles and made a note.
“You did open the window?” he said.
“You shouldn’t keep on asking. You know I did.”
“Miss Prentice, did you find anything in the teapot you were to use on the stage?”
“Is that where it hid?”
“Where what hid?”
“The unpardonable sin. You know. The thing she did!”
“You’re talking nonsense, Eleanor,” said Jocelyn. He got behind her and made violent grimaces at Fox.
“I’m sorry if I irritate you, Jocelyn.”
“You don’t know anything about an onion that a small boy put in the teapot, Miss Prentice?”
She opened her eyes very wide and shaped her mouth like an O. Then she slowly shook her head. Once started, she seemed unable to leave off shaking her head, but went on and on until the movement lost all meaning.
“Well,” said Fox, “I think that’s all I need trouble you about, thank you, Miss Prentice.”
“Henry,” said Jocelyn. “See your cousin upstairs.”
She went without another word. Henry hurried after her. Jocelyn turned to Fox.
“See how it is!” he said. “The shock sent her out of her mind. There are no two ways about it. See for yourself. Have to get a specialist. Better not believe a word she says.”
“She’s never been like this before, sir?”
“Good God, no.”
“That’s very distressing, sir, isn’t it? The chief inspector asked me to speak to you, sir, about this evening. He thinks it would be a good idea to see, at the same time, all the people who were in the play, and he wonders if you would be good enough to send your party down to the hall.”
“I must say I don’t quite see— As a matter of fact, I’ve asked the Copelands for dinner to talk things over.”
“That will fit in very nicely, then, won’t it, sir? You can come on to the hall.”
“Yes, but I don’t see what good it’ll do.”
“The chief inspector will explain when he comes, sir. He asked me to say he’d be very much obliged if you would give the lead in this little matter. In view of your position in the county, sir, he thought you would prefer to come before the others. You’ve two cars, haven’t you, sir?”
“I suppose I’d better.” Jocelyn stared very hard at a portrait of his actress-ancestress and said, “Have you got any idea who it is?”
“I couldn’t say what the chief intends just at the moment, sir,” answered Fox so blandly that the evasion sounded exactly like a direct answer. “No doubt he will report to you himself, sir. Would nine o’clock suit you at the hall, Mr. Jernigham?”