“Do you mean to tell me,” demanded Clara, “that we’re goin’ to have police at Trevellin?”
“I suppose so,” replied Charmian.
“And it’s no use your saying that you’ve never heard of such a thing, Clara love, because they were practically never out of the house when the twins were innocent boys,” said Aubrey. “Not to mention the various occasions when Ray and Ingram and Eugene…”
“That was nothin’!” interrupted Clara. “A bit of boyish devilry, and your father always settled it without any fuss. But this! Well, I shall never get over it!” Vivian, who had been sitting in silence for some minutes, now said defiantly: “If he really was poisoned.. I quite see, of course, that I might have been the person to have done it.”
“Yes, darling,” agreed Aubrey, “but there’s nothing to be so grand about in that. It would be far more distinguished not to be a suspect. I mean, it’s so obvious, isn’t it, that it’s going to be too dreadfully commonplace to be one of those who might well have murdered Father?”
Bart turned his eyes towards him. “Not one of us — not one of us! — would have done such a thing!” he said fiercely.
“How sweet of you to say so, Bart! I shouldn’t think it’s in the least true, but I do appreciate the thoroughly nice spirit that inspired you to utter such noble words. I quite thought you would instantly assume that I was the guilty party.”
“I wouldn’t put it beyond you,” interpolated Conrad.
“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t, but that’s only because I wear a maroon velvet jacket and a silk shirt, and you can’t help feeling that such a man would be capable of committing almost any crime.”
“Well, all I know is that Father had made up his mind to make you live at home, which is about the last thing on earth that would suit your book!”
“Mustn’t it be lovely to be Conrad?” said Aubrey, looking round the table. “Sitting there in a perfectly unassailable position, making spiteful remarks to me! I cant help entertaining what I admit to be a very ignoble hope that we shall discover that he had a motive for killing Father after all.”
Conrad looked rather taken aback. “Look here, who do you consider might have had a motive?”
“It would be so much easier to tell you who hadn’t,” replied Aubrey. “I shouldn’t think even a policeman could suspect darling Aunt Clara. Unless you’re cherishing a hideous secret, you would appear to be out of the running — but do try not to look so smug about it! It goes against the grain, but I’m bound to say I don’t see what Eugene would have had to gain. Char and Ingram seem to be out of it too. I can’t think of anyone else.”
“You’d much better not talk about it at all,” said Clara severely. “Depend upon it, it won’t lead to any good.”
“I don’t know about anyone else, but if you mean to say that you think Bart would have laid a finger on Father...”
Aubrey sighed. “I simply can’t bear it when you start on your oppressive Damon and Pythias act, Con dear. I daresay Bart didn’t do it, but the meanest intelligence — yes, that’s my polite way of saying yours, so that angry flush isn’t wasted — must perceive that he has a perfectly beautiful motive. Of course, if Ray is the murderer, the whole thing is most sordid, because he must have done it for filthy lucre, which one can’t help feeling lets the whole family down; but if Bart did it, his motive, however little it may appeal to me personally, lifts the crime on to a much higher plane. All for Love, in fact. Darling Clara, please pour me out another cup of coffee!”
“I consider it in the highest degree unlikely that Bart had anything at all to do with it,” said Charmian, before Bart could speak.
“Yes, precious, so do I, but if half what one reads is true love has a most peculiar effect, even upon people like Bart. I wouldn’t know. Of course, the thing that would afford one a really subtle gratification would be to find that Faith had atoned for years of almost complete ineffectiveness by — Oh dear, there’s Clay! To think I had nearly committed a social solecism! I didn’t quite though,, did I?"
“If you imagine I’m going to sit here while you cast your rotten aspersions on my mother, you’re jolly well mistaken!” said Clay, growing very red in the face, and assuming the blustering tone he was too prone to use when talking to his brothers.
“Why don’t you knock me down?” mocked Aubrey. “Go on! What are you waiting for?”
“Oh, shut up!” said Charmian impatiently. “Of all the futile suggestions, Aubrey, that surely takes the cake!”
“I know, but you must admit it was a very lovely thought. Oh, look! Here’s Ray, looking exactly as though he’d been stuffed!”
Except for glancing scornfully at him, Raymond paid no attention to him. He took his place at the head of the table, and looked down the length of it at Clara. “Coffee, please. I take it Char’s told you all what Rame said?”
“It isn’t true, Ray!” Bart had been staring out of the window, but he wheeled round to fling these words at his elder brother. “It couldn’t be true! Not the Guv’nor!”
“Oh, isn’t Bart sweet?” Aubrey said, addressing the company generally. “Or don’t you like guilelessness above the age of consent? I think it’s rather touching.”
“If you don’t keep your damned mouth shut, I’ll knock hell out of you!” Bart threatened, clenching his fists.
“The wish is father to the thought, dearie. You wouldn’t believe the number of dirty Japanese tricks I’ve got up my sleeve.”
“You can both of you keep your mouths shut!” Raymond said. “What good do you imagine you’re doing, bickering like a couple of school kids? We’re in the bloodiest mess possible, let me tell you! By midday it’ll be all over the county that Father’s been murdered! We’re going to be dragged through the mud, all of us! We shall have reporters trying to photograph the scene of the crime, and our name splashed all over the cheaper press!”
“Will we by God!” said Conrad. “I’d like to see a reporter trying to poke his nose into Trevellin! He’d get something he wasn’t expecting!”
“You’ll make a fool of yourself if you come to blows with the Press,” observed Charmian dryly. “What happens next, Ray?”
“The body will be removed for a post-mortem examination. Rame will arrange that with the police.”
“No!” Clara arose in her wrath. “That’s too much! Ray, I don’t know what you’re thinkin’ about to allow such a thing! It’s not decent!”
“I’ve no power to stop it. You don’t suppose I want any of this to happen, do you? For God’s sake, don’t you start kicking up a fuss! I’ve had a bad enough time with Martha already.”
“O God!” Bart said, in a breaking voice, and plunged out of the room.
Conrad rose from his chair. “If it’s found to be true that Father was murdered, I’ll bet I know who did it!” he said savagely. “It ’ud be just about what she would do, the damned slut that she is!” He looked down at Aubrey. “As for you, you keep your tongue off Bart!”
Aubrey waited until he had slammed his way out of the room before remarking: “Yes, that was always one the possibilities. They say poison is a woman’s weapon don’t they?”
“I never liked that gal,” said Clara, shaking her head “but I don’t hold with tryin’ to put things on people like that.”
“I know nothing about Loveday Trewithian,” said Charmian. “What seems to me to be of more importance is the fact that Jimmy the Bastard was out all night, and isn’t yet back.”
“You don’t mean it!” exclaimed Clara.
“I’ll bet he did it!” Clay said.
“He’s disgusting enough to do anything,” said Vivian. “But why should he? I don’t see what he had to gain.”
“Robbery, or something like that.”
Raymond looked up quickly, his lips slightly parted, as though he were about to speak. Then he closed them again, and lowered his gaze. He had remembered suddenly that there had been no battered tin box in the cupboard above Penhallow’s bed. At least, he thought there had not been, but in his haste he might, he supposed, have overlooked it.
“It only remains for us to discover that the three hundred pounds I fetched Father from the Bank yesterday is missing,” said Aubrey. “An unexciting finish to the episode, but I confess I should welcome it.”