"Good God!" said Sir Adrian in accents of deep foreboding.
His wife, paying no heed to this ejaculation, began to stalk up and down the room, occasionally smoking her cigarette, but more often waving it in the air to illustrate her points. "I may have a fight, but I don't mind that. I'm used to overcoming difficulties. Roughing it in the wilds teaches one that, at least. Besides, the Socialist candidate's a bad speaker. Makes a poor impression on the platform. I'm confident I shall get in. I've been up there already, of course; seen our agent, the local committee—"
"My wife," explained Sir Adrian to the superintendent, "intends standing for Parliament."
"Certainly I do!" said Norma. "I feel it's my duty, and thank God I've never been one to shirk that!"
"Quite, Lady Harte. Do I understand that upon landing in England, you went north immediately to East Madingley?"
"Immediately? No, certainly not. I had a great deal of business to attend to in town, and several people to see. I left for my constituency the following evening. In fact, I've been in the devil's own rush ever since I got the cable in the Congo."
"I'm sure you have," said Sir Adrian. "That would account for your not having warned me of your arrival."
"Rubbish, Adrian! Don't be so forgetful. You must have had my cable." He shook his head, smiling. "Well, that's most extraordinary," she said. "I'm pretty sure I sent you one. I know I sent cables to Jevons and Sir Archibald. However, it's possible that in the hurry I may have forgotten. It doesn't really matter. I knew you'd be in Scotland, anyway."
"May I ask where you went when you landed in England, Lady Harte?"
"Ask me anything you like!" said Norma with a lavish gesture. "I went all over the place, seeing first this person and then that. First, of course, I had to hand my guns in and attend to all that nonsense; then I saw Sir Archibald for a few minutes, rushed off to buy a pair of gloves—"
"Did you spend the night at home, Lady Harte?"
"No, I only went home to dump my luggage. Most of the servants are on holiday. There's only the butler and his wife there, and I can't stand furniture muffled in Holland covers. I just collected my car from the garage, and went down to Putney, and parked myself with an old servant of mine who lets rooms."
This seemed to Hannasyde an odd procedure. Lady Harte noticed his look of incredulity and gave a laugh. "My dear man, you needn't look so surprised! Why shouldn't I spend the night with my own son's old nanny? I get better attention with her than at any hotel, let me tell you!"
"I quite understand," said Hannasyde. "A devoted old servant would—"
"Devoted! She's practically one of the family. She took my eldest boy from the month, and my younger one too!"
"I see," said Hannasyde. "And you stayed with her until you went to East Madingley?"
"Of course I did!"
"All the following day, in fact?"
Lady Harte looked exasperated. "Yes! If you mean, was I in her house all day, certainly not! You don't seem to realise that I had a lot to do when I got back. I was in London, shopping, all the morning, dashed back to Putney after lunch to repack my suitcase, dashed up to King's Cross, and just caught the 7.15 train north."
"Were you aware of Mr. Silas Kane's death, Lady Harte?"
"Yes, Nanny told me all about that. I can't say I was surprised. He'd had a weak heart for years."
"You did not make any attempt to get into touch either with your son or with anyone here?"
She gave her head a decided shake. "No time. There was nothing I could do, and it was extremely important I should present myself in my constituency without any further loss of time. I always keep my personal affairs and my public life strictly apart. It's by far the best plan."
"When did you learn of Mr. Clement Kane's murder, Lady Harte?"
"Actually, I never heard anything about it till I got back to town last night. Usually I make a point of studying The Times from cover to cover, but my mind was occupied with more pressing business. Nanny told me about it as soon as I arrived at her place, of course, so I collected my baggage from Pont Street first thing this morning and managed to catch the ten-o'clock train down to Portlaw." She threw the stub of her cigarette out of the window and added kindly: "If there's anything more you want to know, don't hesitate to ask me!"
"Thank you, Lady Harte. You will understand, I expect, that it is of importance to this case that I should know exactly where you went on August tenth."
"Was that the day Clement Kane was murdered?" inquired Norma. "Oh well, naturally you must know what my movements were! Now let me see!" She paused in her striding about the room and took another cigarette out of the box on the table. Once more her husband held a light for her, once more she inhaled the first breath with that characteristic little toss of the head. "Very difficult," she pronounced at last. "You know what it's like when one gets back from the wilds—or perhaps you don't. I spent the day shopping. New toothbrush, and hair lotion, and that sort of thing. I expect I could make out a list if I gave my mind to it, but I'm not sure I can remember the shops I went to. Some chemist or other in the Brompton Road, but God knows which one. I went to Harrod's, too, and various other places."
"The shops are really quite immaterial, Lady Harte. If you could tell me where you lunched it would be helpful."
"Oh, at some teashop or other! I rather think it was at a Lyons' Corner House—or, no, wait!—it might have been Stewart's. Somewhere in Piccadilly."
"Whichever restaurant it was, it was a crowded one?"
"They all are," said Norma. "If it weren't so out of the way, I should have gone to my club; but it's in Cavendish Square. Waste of time!"
"And in the afternoon?" inquired Hannasyde.
"I hadn't done all the shopping I had to, so I went back to Putney—it was Saturday, you know. Early closing day in London." She gave a sudden laugh. "Good Lord, of course you can't prove any of this, no more can I! You're thinking that old Nanny would lie like a shot. So she would, bless her! Well, I've done most things—experience is the most important thing in life—but I've never yet been suspected of murder. Now, don't misunderstand me! I don't mind a bit; in fact, it'll provide me with a grand piece of copy for the book I'm writing."
Hannasyde could not help smiling, but he said: "There is another question I should like you to answer, Lady Harte. Were you conversant with the terms of Matthew Kane's will?"
"Do you mean, did I know that my boy stood next to his cousin Clement in succession? My dear good man, of course I did!"
"Did you ever mention the matter to your son?"
"No, certainly not."
"You seem very sure of that?"
"Well, I am sure. I never thought there was the least likelihood of him coming into the property. I'm not at all certain I wanted him to. I don't believe in young men rolling in wealth. I believe in them having to make their own way and fight for what they want. I've always done it. I only wish my boys had half my push. When I make up my mind to do a thing, I can't rest till it's done."
A singularly pugnacious expression came into her face as she delivered herself of this announcement, but just then Jim Kane walked quickly into the room and the expression vanished at once. "Jim, my dearest!" Norma cried and held out her arms to him.
Mr. James Kane caught her in a bear's hug. He was laughing as he kissed her. "Mother, where did you spring from? Why weren't we warned? Or were we, and did Adrian forget all about it?"
"Well, I certainly was under the impression that I sent one of you a cable," said Norma. "Not that it matters much. Darling, what a dreadful coat! It's fraying at the cuffs. You really can't go about like that!"
"Why not?" he retorted. "Look at the wicked example you set me!"
"Oh, it doesn't matter about me!" she said. "Besides, I'm perfectly respectable. Now, you must sit down and not interrupt, Jim. I'm being interviewed by the police. Darling!" The last word was murmured in an idolatrous voice quite at variance with Lady Harte's usually incisive accents. Hannasyde watched one thin brown hand go swiftly up to pat Jim's cheek, saw the sharp eyes misty, and turned to find Sir Adrian meditatively polishing his monocle.