“Naughty temper!” said Aubrey. “Is it getting on your nerves, Ray dear? Personally, I adore listening to Char laying down the law, and telling us how the deed was done, because she’s almost certainly wrong, and I do like people to make fools of themselves, don’t you?”
“You’re probably in a position to know!” Raymond said.
“I’m glad somebody has put that into words,” observed Eugene unpleasantly.
“Oh, how too dreadfully unkind of you!” Aubrey said. “Oh, I do think you oughtn’t to have said that, Ray! After all, I am your little brother!”
“One cannot help feeling that the Bastard’s disappearance was providential — with, or perhaps without three hundred pounds in cash,” said Eugene.
Aubrey smiled sweetly upon him. “Oh, no, Eugene! No, really, I wouldn’t commit a murder for three hundred! So paltry!”
“I maintain,” struck in Charmian, “that there was something extremely fishy about Uncle Phin’s visit, and it ought to be investigated.”
Raymond turned towards her. “For God’s sake, can’t you shut up about that? Your views are of no possible interest or value to anyone! Uncle Phin had nothing whatsoever to do with Father’s death!”
“How do you know?” Conrad put in swiftly.
“Oh, I was longing to ask that question!” said Aubrey. “I didn’t quite like to, but Con’s so wonderfully uninhibited!”
“Far be it from me to make groundless accusations,” began Eugene.
“Oh, shut up!” Charmian interrupted.
“No, do let him go on, Char!” begged Aubrey. “Whenever anyone says far be it from him to do something it means he’s going to do it, and I should simply love to hear who it is Eugene’s going to accuse!”
“All I wish to point out,” said Eugene, “is that if we are to ask ourselves who stands to gain the most out of Father’s death there can be only one answer.”
“But how beautifully put!” Aubrey said admiringly. “You couldn’t call it actually offensive, could you?”
Raymond looked grimly at Eugene. “If you and your wife hadn’t sponged for years on Father, you’d have been a bigger gainer today than you are! You can put that in your pipe and smoke it!”
This remark made Vivian flare up at once. She demanded to be told in what way Eugene could be considered to be any more to blame for the wasting of Penhallow’s fortune than any of his brothers; and added that for her part she had always hated Penhallow, and would rather have gone out charring than have subsisted on his generosity.
“Let me advise you,” said Charmian, “not to be quite lavish with your abuse of Father, my good young woman! Your position is not so unassailable that you can afford to make it worse.”
“I know very well you think I poisoned your father, any way I don’t care what you think, any of you!” declared Vivian, shaking with indignation. “If I’d thought of it, I would have!”
“Now, that’ll do!” said Clara. “It was Jimmy killed Adam, whatever Char and Ray may say, and so we shall find, you mark my words!”
By tea-time it had been established that Penhallon had died from swallowing an overdose of veronal; and Inspector Logan had learnt from Phineas Ottery that he had visited Trevellin to consult Penhallow on a small matter of business connected with house-property. “My nephew, Raymond Penhallow, will bear me out that my errand to Mr Penhallow was of the most trifling nature,” had said Phineas, with a wave of his hand. “He was present during a considerable part of the interview, so you may see for yourself, Inspector, that there was nothing particularly secret about it. Merely, I did not wish to admit the whole family into my confidence.”
However plausible in itself, this explanation could not fail, coming as it did after Raymond’s assertion that he had not seen his uncle, to arouse the Inspector’s suspicions. He said nothing about this to Phineas, but returned to Trevellin, to request an explanation of Raymond.
Raymond reddened angrily, and said something under his breath. Mentally he cursed Phineas for dragging him into an episode which neither of them could satisfactorily explain; and if he had not been afraid that panic might betray his uncle into making some admission that would lead the police to discover the truth, he would flatly have denied his statement. As it was, he took time to think out his answer, and said at last: “Very well, then, I did see him. I know nothing about his business with my father, however.”
“Why did you inform me that you had not seen him, sir?”
Raymond shrugged. “Did I say that? I don’t remember: I probably wasn’t attending to you very closely. To all intents and purposes, I didn’t see my uncle, since I know nothing of what his business may have been with my father, which is what you want to find out, isn’t it?”
“I can’t be satisfied with that answer, Mr Penhallow.”
“Then perhaps you’ll be satisfied with this instead!” Raymond retorted. “You’re chasing a red herring! My father’s dealings with my uncle were entirely trivial, and can have nothing whatsoever to do with this case!”
As this brief interchange took place in the morning room, with the door communicating with the Yellow drawing-room, where Eugene was reclining upon a sofa, standing ajar, it was not surprising that by tea-time the news that Raymond, for reasons best known to himself, had been giving false information to the police should have spread round the family. Curiosity of the most morbid nature was immediately roused, and when a hired car presently brought both Phineas and Delia to Trevellin, it was generally felt that there was more Charmian’s theory than had at first been supposed. To Faith, it appeared so fantastic that the Otterys should be caught up in the meshes of the appalling net which she had woven that she could almost have believed herself to be struggling in the toils of a nightmare.
Ostensibly, the Otterys had come to offer their condolences to the bereaved family, but although the scared look on Delia’s face, and the horror and dismay to be detected in Phineas’s manner, might ordinarily have been considered to be the natural results of hearing of an old friend’s murder, they were taken, under existing circumstances, to denote a personal concern in the affair, as intriguing as it was incomprehensible.
Phineas, holding Faith’s hand between both of his told her that even at the risk of finding themselves in the way neither he nor his sister could forbear motoring over to see how she did, and to inquire further into the very shocking nature of Penhallow’s death. Delia, more than usually incoherent, opened and shut the clasp of her handbag a great many times, scattered her sympathy amongst the family, and timidly asked after Raymond. This gave Phineas an opportunity to interrupt Ingram’s account of his father’s death, and say with that unctuous intonation which never failed to annoy his nephews: “Ah, the dear good fellow! This must be at once a sad and a solemn day for him! So much rests upon his shoulders! All the responsibilities of a not inconsiderable estate, the cares of a large family! I must seek him out, and place my services, such as they are, at his disposal.”