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"Really? And I should think you're a competent judge too."

She gave a sudden laugh and got up. "You're impossible," she said, and held out her hand.

It was an act of dismissal, but though Amberley rose he did not shake hands. Her hand fell; the laugh faded from her eyes she said abruptly: "Mr. Amberley."

"Well?"

"I seem to you a suspicious character. I must seem so; I quite realise that. But if I am, why don't you leave the police to deal with me?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid you overrate our inspector's intelligence. He'd probably have had you hanged."

"You're acting for the police, aren't you? You needn't trouble to deny it; I know you are. And you still think I had something to do with that murder. Well…'

He interrupted. "And had you nothing to do with it, Miss Brown?"

She stared at him, the colour ebbing from her cheeks. "What do you mean?"

"What I say. You went to meet Dawson that night."

"No!"

"Don't lie. He had something that you wanted. And because of that he was murdered. You were too late on the scene, Miss Brown."

"It's not true!" she said huskily. "You've no proofl'

"I shall have," he promised, and picked up his hat. "No, you needn't put on that remarkably wooden expression. I'm not going to ask you to tell me anything. The one piece of information I came for I've got. The rest I'll have soon enough - without the assistance you're so loath to give me."

"What information? What do you imagine you've discovered?"

"You can think that out for yourself," said Mr. Amberley. "Thank you so much for giving me tea. Goodbye!"

Chapter Seven

Mr. Amberley's hopes of a quiet evening were dashed by a telephone call that came for him in the middle of dinner. Sir Humphrey passed a severe stricture upon people who invariably rang up during a meal because they were "sure of finding one in, and inquired testily of his butler who it was and why he could not give a message.

Upon hearing that his call came from Basil Fountain, Mr. Amberley, who had heartily endorsed his uncle's views, said that he would answer it. He returned to the dining room a few moments later and replied in answer to Felicity's inquiry that Fountain wanted him to motor over to the manor after dinner.

"Whatever for?" said Felicity.

"Apparently," said Amberley, helping himself to salad, "he has remembered a valuable piece of evidence."

"Did he ask me to come too?"

"He did not."

"Swab!" said Felicity, without heat.

When Amberley arrived at Norton Manor it was about half-past nine and a beautifully clear night. The manor was bathed in moonlight, with sharp black shadows thrown out along the ground. The house looked unfriendly, for the curtains were closely drawn and no welcoming light shone from any window.

Amberley was admitted by Collins and conducted to the library at the side of the house. He found his host alone, awaiting him.

Fountain apologised for dragging him out at this hour, but said in excuse that he had only heard from the chief constable that afternoon that he had taken the case on. It appeared that there was something he thought Amberley ought to know about the deceased butler.

He broke off as Collins came back into the room with the coffee-tray and waited while the valet offered this to Amberley. But he did not, for once, seem to mind Collins' hearing what he had to say, for he added, as he lifted the big globe-like liqueur glass, from the tray: "I've been speaking to Collins about what I'm going to tell you, but unfortunately he can't help us much. I rather hoped he might have known more than I do. But he tells me Dawson seldom mentioned his affairs in the servants' hall."

Amberley glanced towards the valet's impassive countenance. "Did he give you the impression that he had anything to hide?"

Collins answered in his smooth, expressionless voice: "No, sir. But I fear I did not consider the matter. We were not very friendly."

"When you say that you were not very friendly do you mean that you disliked one another?"

"Oh dear me, no, sir, nothing of that kind," replied Collins. "If there had ever been unpleasantness I could not have remained in service at the manor."

Amberley transferred his gaze to the fireplace. After; i moment Collins said politely: "Will there be anything further, sir?"

"No, that's all," said Fountain. He waited till the mai > had gone and then remarked that he had managed to find a butler to take Dawson's place.

"Really? I heard you had gone to town to intervue one. Satisfactory?"

"Seems all right," said Fountain. "He had a very good reference, though I'd have preferred to have had a word over the phone with his late employers. Unfortunately the man's gone to America. He gave Baker - that's the butler - a chit, but one never knows with these references that servants hand you themselves. However, he was willing to come at once, so I decided to give him a trial. Been out of work for a month or two on account of his health. Hope he won't turn out to be a crook." He held out an open box of cigars, but remembering that his guest did not smoke them, looked round for the cigarettes.

Amberley shook his head, and produced a pipe and began to fill it. "What was it you were going to tell me?" he asked.

The story was rather an odd one. The incident had occurred two years before, when Fountain succeeded his uncle. He had known when he took over the house and the existing staff that the servants had each one whole day off a month, in addition to their various half-days. The arrangement had seemed to him a fair one; in any case he did not wish to make any changes in the rules of the house. Dawson alone of them all was favoured with late leave, which meant that he was not bound to be in by ten o'clock at night on these occasions. This was because he was supposed always to visit his sister, who lived at Brixton, a difficult place to reach from Upper Nettlefold. Fountain had never questioned it until, happening to be dining in town on one of Dawson's off days, whom should he have seen three tables away but Dawson himself, in company with another man.

Mr. Amberley raised his brows, but made no comment.

The restaurant was the Magnificent - a tawdry, gilded place, certainly, but not exactly cheap. Probably Amberley knew it?

Amberley nodded and put his pipe between his teeth and felt in his pocket for matches.

Well, he had been surprised, but since it was really no business of his what Dawson did in his off time he had pretended not to notice the man. But on the following morning Dawson had broached the matter of his own accord. He said that he knew his master must have wondered to see him dining at the Magnificent, and he wished to explain how it had come about. The explanation had appeared to Fountain quite satisfactory; so much so that the incident had been banished from his mind only to be recalled when, worrying his brain over the man's murder, he had set himself to think over everything he had ever known of Dawson.

He had been dining with an American, a man whom he had known many years before in New York, when he himself was in service there. Fountain rather thought that he had been a footman in some millionaire'ss house, but he was not sure; it was a long time ago. All he did know was that Jasper Fountain had picked him up in America and had brought him back to England as his butler. In any case the American with whom he had been dining that night had, according to Dawson's tale, made his pile and come to England on a visit. He had found his old friend's address and invited him to meet him in town one evening. The impression Fountain had had when Dawson told him this was that the man had wanted to dazzle the butler by a display of opulence. Anyway he had not thought any more about it until, as he said, he had tried to run over in his mind all that he knew of Dawson. And in doing that naturally the first thing that attracted one's attention was Dawson's mysterious nest-egg. No one had yet succeeded in tracing this to its source. A suggestion made by himself that Dawson had bet a bit on the turf was quashed by the housekeeper, who asserted that the butler had disapproved of all forms of gambling.