Five minutes later his car swept past the window. Fay, who had been staring unseeingly at the safe, raised her eyes and said breathlessly: "If someone did steal the money it means — don't you see, Dinah — it means I was right, and it must have been someone from outside who killed Arthur!"
"Well, we shall see," said Dinah. "Meanwhile, let's go and sit somewhere else."
Mr. Tremlowe rose from his chair. "With permission, Lady Billington-Smith, I will take charge of these notes. And' — he looked over the top of his spectacles at the Sergeant —- "if you care to remain with me, Sergeant, I will go through the papers in the safe while we are waiting for the Inspector to return."
The other three went out into the hall again, and after a moment's indecision Fay said that she supposed they had better join the rest of the party.
Miss de Silva had not, of course, come downstairs , yet, but Guest and the Hallidays were on the terrace. Camilla, who was one of those people who never seened to get any time for reading, had now ample leisure to indulge her declared passion for literature and, in proof of her sincerity, was flicking over the pages of a novel selected at random from Fay's book-shelves. Stephen Guest, whom she had attempted, quite unavailingly, to engage in conversation, was hidden behind The Times and Halliday was sitting in a deep chair with a pipe clenched between his teeth, and his moody gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
When the others came out on to the terrace, Camilla closed her book immediately, and sat up. "Well, have you opened the safe, and was everything all right?" she inquired.
"We don't know until we find out just how much money my husband drew on Monday," answered Fay, apparently feeling that there was no need to admit Camilla further into her confidence. "Geoffrey, did Mr. Tremlowe mention what time we were to expect Francis? I wonder if I had better warn Finch that he may be here for lunch?"
"Oh, is Captain Billington-Smith coming back?" said Camilla, brightening visibly. "He'll cheer us up!"
"Cheer who up?" snapped Geoffrey disagreeably.
"Well, all of us! I mean, somebody from outside will make a sort of break, in a way, don't you think?"
"No, I don't," said Geoffrey.
Camilla bridled, and gave vent to a somewhat metallic laugh. "Well, all I can say is that some of us seem to be in need of cheering up — not to mention any names!"
"Oh, do be quiet, Camilla!" said Basil wearily.
Guest, who had risen when Fay came on to the terrace, drew her a little apart, and was talking to her in a low voice. Camilla said meaningly: "Or perhaps some of us don't happen to need any cheering up. One never knows!"
"Well, I don't," said Dinah. "I think the whole situation's rather funny."
"Well!" gasped Camilla, quite diverted by this skillful red herring. "What a thing to say! Funny, when Sir Arthur's been murdered, and one of us is the person who did it!"
Halliday got up, rasping his chair across the paved floor of the terrace. "For God's sake shut up!" he said roughly. "Do you think we want that thrown at us? Aren't things bad enough as it is? Oh, lord, can't we do something instead of sitting about and looking at each other?"
"That's just it," said Geoffrey gloomily. "What can we do? Personally, I'm ready to do what anyone wants but we can't play tennis, which is the obvious thing least, Fay thinks it would look rather bad, and I suppose she's right, really. I don't know about billiards: it's rather different — I mean, it's a quiet game, and indoors. I don't think we ought to play snooker, but a hundred up billiards surely can't offend anybody."
"Thanks very much," said Camilla. "And I suppose I can mark for you? That will be nice!"
"Why don't you play Bridge?" suggested Dinah. "You can play on the terrace, and Stephen can make a fourth."
"Oh, do you think we ought?" said Camilla. "Would'nt it be rather heartless? I'd give anything for something to do, but I couldn't bear to show disrespect to poor Sir Arthur's memory."
"Well, I don't know about cards," said Geoffrey doubtfully. "Of course, we wouldn't play for money , at any rate, only for something very small. What do you think, Halliday?"
"I don't see why we shouldn't. It's not as though we were proposing to play poker. Lady Billington-Smith, have you any objection to us having a rubber of Bridge"
"Bridge?" said Fay vaguely. "Do you think you ought to? It isn't that I mind, only Geoffrey, what do you feel about it?"
"Well, I can't see why we shouldn't, if we only play for three pence a hundred," declared Geoffrey. "Stephen will you come and make a fourth?"
"Yes, sure," said Guest amiably.
"That's settled them anyway," remarked Dinah, leadng her sister into the house. "Come on, ducky, you've got to try on the raiment I've brought home on approval."
Twenty minutes later, Francis Billington-Smith walked through the drawing-room and stood for a moment framed by the window, somewhat cynically observing the card-players. "What a touching sight!" he drawled. "The bereaved household! Little Geoffrey, too just bearing up, I see."
Camilla jumped, and looked over her shoulder. "Oh, Captain Billington-Smith, how you startled me!"
"Oh, so you've arrived, have you?" said Geoffrey. "I suppose I can play Bridge if I want to without asking your permission? Two down, vulnerable. That's two hundred and fifty to them above. What on earth you put me up for, Stephen, I can't imagine. Cut, please, Camilla."
Camilla's attention, however, was all for Francis, to whom she was already pouring out a garbled version of Sir Arthur's murder and a description of her own psychological reactions to it.
Francis broke in on this. "So interesting!" he said politely. "But as I don't know yet when my uncle was murdered or where, or by whom, these observations are somewhat lost on me. Would somebody not Geoffrey, I think — be kind enough to enlighten me?"
"Your uncle was stabbed in his study between twelve and one o'clock on Monday morning," stated Guest. "We don't know by whom."
"Stabbed?" Francis repeated.
"Yes, with the Chinese dagger he used as a paper knife," said Guest unemotionally.
Francis looked rather white. "My God!" he said. He put his hand into his pocket and mechanically drew out his thin gold cigarette-case and opened it. The fingers that groped for a cigarette were just a trifle unsteady "What an appalling thing!" he said.
Geoffrey eyed him with resentment. "Yes, and it's damned sight more appalling for us than for you, let mo tell you. You weren't here. We were."
Francis shut his case and tapped his cigarette on it.
"Rather appalling for Uncle too — if you should happen to be looking at it in that light," he remarked. "Poor old chap!"
"Naturally we all feel that," said Halliday, shuffling and reshuffling the cards. "It's a terrible tragedy. We're all most upset, and shocked."
Francis's faintly mocking glance lingered for moment on the Bridge-table. "I'm sure you must be," he said. "Quite shattered!"
"Hang it all, you needn't be so pious!" said Geoffrey firing up. "You weren't so damned fond of Father yourself."
Francis raised his brows. "On the contrary," he said." I was probably fonder of him than any of you. You would hardly believe it, but I'm almost distressed to think he's dead."
"Let's hope you won't be more distressed when the Will's read," replied Geoffrey.
"Oh, I hardly think so," said Francis. He struck a match, and lit his cigarette. "Does anybody know who murdered him, by the way?"
"No!" said Halliday, pushing the pack of cards away "It might," said Guest, "have been any one of us."
"You, for instance?"
"Me, for instance."
"But how extremely piquant!" remarked Francis. "Let its all put the name of the person each of us thinks did it into a hat, and see who gets the most votes."