Maurice got to his feet. "Then perhaps you wouldn't mind," he said, his voice slightly shrill, "if my niece gave me permission to go to my room?"
"I shall want to speak to you presently, sir," said Masters urbanely. "But if your niece sees no reason — just so. Thank you"
Maurice gestured to Thompson, who swiftly picked up his gold-headed stick from the floor. Maurice was white with a smiling, deadly, lightly-sweating fury; and his eyes had the dead look of a wax-work figure's.
He said: "I confess I had never been aware that the police, those sometimes useful servants of the superior classes, were in the habit of encouraging children to talk in the fashion of — ha — sluts. I cannot, of course, allow this to pass unnoticed, on the part of either one of you. It has been my habit to enforce implicit obedience in this house, to the end that my own comfort might be maintained, and I should be foolish if I permitted the slightest imputation of that authority to pass unchallenged. Should I not?" He smiled delicately. "You will deeply regret your failure to minister to my comfort, Kate."
He bowed, and the complacency returned to his bearing as he left them.
Bennett reached over and beamingly shook hands with her.
"Now, now!" protested Masters, and stroked his ploughshare chin. "None of that, if you please. I'm a police officer, and I'm here on a definite job. I " He tried to keep impassive, but a grin broke over his face. Peering over his shoulder, Masters added in a low voice, "Lummy, you did put the old man's back up, Miss! Hum. Hurrum! Just so."
"Nice work, inspector," said Bennett affably. "Good old C.I.D. If you were a Maypole, we'd both dance around you."
Masters pointed out that he was not a Maypole. The idea seemed to make him uncomfortable, and he insisted on Katharine continuing with her story.
"There isn't much, really," she insisted, still a little fearfully and with a nervous color in her cheeks as she seemed to reflect what she had said. "I mean, about that man Rainger. He said he would put me in the films, and seemed to think that was all anybody in the world could want. Then he reached down and-nothing." She shifted in her chair. "It was a bit dark there, but the others were close ahead of us; and the only thing I could do without being noticed was to stamp down hard on his foot. That was all the attention he paid to me, because I hurried up and took Jervis Willard's arm. He didn't say anything more; he kept talking to Louise. But I didn't think he'd be liar enough to say that I…"
She went on rapidly to describe the incident on the secret staircase in King Charles's room, and it agreed with the description Bennett had already heard from Willard.
"because I don't think, really, that the pushing was intentional. Marcia said it wasn't; and she would know, wouldn't she?"
"Um. Possibly. Then there were six of you at the top of the stairs: yourself, Miss Tait, Miss Carewe, and the three men; eh? Just so. How were you standing? Who was behind her, for instance?"
"I was. But I don't know about the others; it's a little space, and everybody was pushing about. Besides, there was only that little candle."
"Oh, ah; the candle. How did it come to go out?"
"The draught. Really it was! There's a strong draught blowing through there from the door downstairs when you
open the bedroom door."
"Yes. And afterwards?"
"Well — nothing. The sight-seeing party broke up. They all looked rather quiet and queer; but nobody said anything. That was some little time after eleven o'clock. Marcia was the only one who was as gay as ever. Louise and I were sent to bed by uncle. The rest of them went downstairs; I know they went out to the pavilion afterwards, because my bedroom window was open and I heard them."
"And none of you," said Masters, knocking his fist into his palm, "none of you saw anything at all odd in this?'
"No! Why should we? Marcia said… and she rather — I don't know how to express it ruled us. She was so attractive that you almost shivered when you looked at her; that dark skin and bright eyes and the way she dressed and everything. She had on a gown that my uncle would have killed me if I'd worn, but, I say, it was. And she was being very motherly towards me." The long eyelashes lowered a little, speculatively. "I think she heard what that man Rainger said to me."
"Yes?"
"Because she turned round. Then she dropped a silver brocade cloak she was wearing (lovely thing), and he jumped to pick it up. Then she looked at him in a funny way and said something."
"Did Miss Tait — um — did she seem to mind?'
"Mind? Oh, I see. Why, I fancy she did," Katharine replied with candor. "She usually did, you know. He said, 'Do you mean it?"'
"Beats me…" said Masters, in dull incredulity and half aloud. He scowled. "Now there's nothing else about that staircase business; nothing you can remember; nothing at all? Please think. Everything!"
She passed the back of her hand across her forehead. "N — no. Nothing. The only other thing was that I went down to unlock the door at the foot of the stairs for my uncle John, so that he'd find it open when he got home. But that was after the-the accident happened. When he comes in late, he always uses that door; because, you see, it opens on the side porch and he doesn't have to come up through the house."
She picked up the cup again and forced herself to drink scalding coffee.
"Everything was wrong. I was going to meet John last night, no matter how late it was, after all that time he'd been in America. And yet I didn't, after all. When I heard Tempest barking at half-past one, I thought it must be for John coming home. But it wasn't. I got up and went to his room, and down the staircase to meet him… but nobody drove in."
Although Masters kept a bland face, his hands tightened on the edge of the table. Shadows of moving clouds passed across the dusky room. In the stillness they could hear the falling rattle of the fire.
"Just so. You're sure, now," said Masters suddenly, and cleared his throat; "you're positive that he didn't come in at that time? Be careful, Miss. It may prove very important."
"Of course I'm sure. I went down and looked out on the drive… Why? What is it? Why are you looking so queer?"
"Ah! Nothing, Miss, nothing; only that somebody told us he got back at one-thirty. He couldn't have driven down to the garage, maybe, so that you missed him?"
"No, of course not. I should have seen him. Besides, his car's in the drive this morning. I thought it was odd then, because the light was on in his room; but he wasn't there.. It isn't something against him, is it?" I haven't told something I shouldn't, have I? Tell me!"
"On the contrary, Miss. Don't be uneasy about that. But you don't know what time he did get here, do you?"
"No. I fell asleep. Besides" she hesitated.
"Go on!"
"Well, when I was coming back from his room after I knew he hadn't come in, I was going along the gallery, and I saw that man Rainger come upstairs… "
"So?" inquired Masters, pinching at his lip. "A very rummy chap, that gentleman, I repeat. I don't mind informing you, Miss, that he told us this: He said that after they had gone out to see Miss Tait into the pavilion-which would be at a little past twelve — he and Mr. Maurice Bohun returned to the library. He said that sat there talking books or the like for at least two hours. He said that they heard the dog barking, and both of them believed. it to be Mr. John Bohun returning at half-past one. Two hours would mean that they presumably stopped in the library until after two o'clock. Very well. Now you tell us, Miss, that you went down to your uncle's room at half-past one; and, as you were returning, how long afterwards…?"
"A few minutes. Not long. But it's true!"
"A few minutes afterwards, you saw Mr. Rainger coming upstairs. Where was he going?"
"To his room. I saw him go in. You see, I hurried straightaway for my room; because I was — well, rather undressed, and I thought he might be-"