"I never did like that man," said Lady Matthews.
"Arrest Fountain?" repeated Sir Humphrey. "God bless my soul, on what charge?"
"Attempted murder will do to start with. The sergeant will tell you all about it. Aunt Marion, is the last post in?"
"Certainly, Frank." She drew an envelope out of her work-bag and looked at Shirley. "Do I give it to him, my dear?"
"Yes, please," said Shirley with a sigh.
Amberley took the envelope and tore it open. Before he drew out what was inside he looked curiously at his aunt and said: "What is this, Aunt Marion?"
Lady Matthews drew Shirley to the fire. "Probably Jasper Fountain's will," she replied.
"You ought to be burned at the stake," said Amberley. "It's a clear case of witchcraft. But only half of his will."
"Ah, that would account for it then," she said. "Better stick them together. There's some adhesive tape somewhere. My dear child, did he try to murder you? Do sit down!"
Amberley took the torn sheet of foolscap out of the envelope and laid it on the card-table. From his notecase he drew a similar sheet. "You seem to be quite sure I've got the other half," he remarked.
Lady Matthews put a log on the fire. "If you haven't, dear boy, I can't imagine what you've been doing all this time."
"I have." He went over to her writing-table. "Where is this tape? Can I look in the drawers?"
"Do by all means. Lots of bills. But I know there is some; Felicity, darling, tell Jenkins food for this poor child. And the burgundy. He'll know."
Felicity found her tongue at last. "If one of you doesnt tell me what it's all about immediately I shall have hysterics!" she said. "I can feel it coming on. Who are you and why have you got those ghastly clothes on, and- oh, what is it all about?"
"Don't worry her now, darling. She is jasper Fountain's granddaughter. She's going to marry Frank. So suitable. But I forgot to congratulate you. Or do I only congratulate Frank? I never know."
Amberley wheeled round, the tape in his hand. "Aunt Marion, you are a witch!"
"Not at all, Frank. Quite unmistakable. Engaged couples always look the same. Felicity, a tray and Burgundy."
Shirley interposed. "I'm very hungry, but not Burgundy, please, Lady Matthews. Mr. Am — I mean Frank - poured quarts of brandy down my throat when he rescued me. I really couldn't."
"Do as you're told," said Amberley. "That was two hours ago. And I think bed, Aunt Marion."
Felicity, who had come back into the room, went over to Shirley's chair and took her firmly by the hand. "Come on!" she said. "You're about my height. You can't possibly wear those clothes any longer. They give me a pain."
"She's going to bed," said Amberley.
Shirley rose gratefully. "I'm not going to do anything of the sort. I slept all the way home, and I'm not in the least tired. But I should like to get out of these garments."
"You may not think you're tired," said Amberley "but…"
"Oh shut up Frank!" interrupted his cousin. "Off course she isn't going to bed till all the excitement's over. Come on, don't pay any attention to him, Shirley. He's an ass."
Mr. Amberley retired, crushed, from the lists.
Ten minutes later another car drove up to the door, and Jenkins, patient resignation written all over him, admitted Inspector Fraser.
The inspector was torn between annoyance with Amberley for having kept him in the dark and delight at being about to make a sensational arrest. He assumed his curtest and most official manner, and took the opportunity to remark that the affair had been conducted in a most irregular manner. He then turned to Amberley, who was standing in front ofthe fire glancing through the evening paper, and asked him whether he wished to accompany the police to Norton Manor.
"Accompany you to Norton Manor?" repeated Amberley. "What the devil for?"
"Seeing that you've had so much to do with this case," said the inspector nastily, "I thought you might want to perform the actual arrest."
Amberley regarded him blandly. "I've no doubt you'll manage to make a mess of it," he said, "but there is it to the amount of work I'll do for you. I've given your case; now get on with it."
The inspector choked, caught Sir Humphrey's austere eye, and stumped out of the room.
When the two girls came downstairs again an inviting supper had been spread on a table in the drawing room for Shirley. It was easy to see that Felicity had coaxed the whole story out of her, for she was round-eyed with wonderment. She had provided Shirley with her ncwest frock, so that it seemed that the engagement had her fullest approval.
It was three quarters of an hour later when they heard yet another car drive up to the front door, and Shirley had just finished her supper and declared herself able to talk of the events of the day with equanimity. Sir Humphrey was not unnaturally anxious to hear his nephew's explanation of all that had happened since the murder of Dawson. Even Lady Matthews was roused to request Frank to tell them about it. At the moment, she said, it was like a jigsaw puzzle. You saw what was on each piece, but you couldn't fit them together to make a picture.
When he heard the car Sir Humphrey tut-tutted irritably. Were they never to be left in peace?
"I imagine it's the inspector," said Amberley. "He doesn't love me, but he knows better than to omit to notify me of the arrest."
It was not the inspector. It was Mr. Anthony Corkran followed by Sergeant Gubbins.
"Oh!" said Amberley. "Now what?"
Anthony was looking rather queer. "My God!" he said.
"Sorry, Lady Matthews. I've had a bit of a shock. Look here, Amberley, this is pretty ghastly! I mean to say - Joan's all in. Perfectly frightful! I've left her with the housekeeper. I shall have to get back almost at once. Just brought the sergeant over to report. The fellow's blown his brains out!"
There was a moment of rather shocked silence. Then Amberley began to fill his pipe. "I thought Fraser would make a mess of it," he commented. "What happened, sergeant? "
Lady Mathews said kindly: "Sit down, Sergeant. You must be worn out. Such a good thing, I feel. No scandal.
Basil Fountain, I mean."
The sergeant thanked her and sat down on the edge of a straight chair, clutching his helmet. Felicity took it away from him and laid it on the table. He thanked her too, but seemed uncertain what to do with his hands now that they nothing to hold.
"Get on, what happened?" said Amberley impatiently.
"Just what Mr. Corkran told you, sir. Fair mucked it, the inspector did."
"I thought you were looking rather pleased. No one's going to run off with your helmet, so stop staring at it. What - happened?"
The sergeant drew a long breath. "Well, sir, we went off to the manor, me and the inspector and a couple of constables. We was admitted by the man calling himself Baker, who we know about!"
"What is his name, Frank?" inquired Lady Matthews. "I couldn't remember."
"Peterson. I didn't think you'd ever seen him, Aunt."
"Yes, dear, I called at your flat once when you were out. Never forget faces. I'm interrupting you, Sergeant."
"That's all right, my lady," the sergeant assured her. "We arrived like I said, and this here Peterson took us into the library, where we found Mr. Fountain and Mr. Corkran. Mr. Fountain wasn't looking himself, but he wasn't put out to see the inspector. Not he. The inspector showed the warrant and said he was arresting him on a charge of attempting to murder Miss Shirley Fountain otherwise known as Brown. Fountain sort of blinked but he kept head all right. I tipped the wink to the inspector to get handcuffs on him sharp. Unfortunately the inspector wonildn't have it I knew better nor what he did, and instead of collaring Fountain and talking afterwards, he started in to tell him how the whole game was up, for all the world as though he'd discovered it himself. Regular windbag, he was. Of course when he let out about the young lady being rescued, Fountain could see the case was pretty hopeless. It's a queer thing, sir, but as soon as he heard that he give a sort of sigh like as if he was quite relieved. He said - which, surprised me that he was glad. "I never meant to do any of it," he says. "It was forced on me. I've been through hell," he says. Then he says: "I'll go with you. I'm damned glad it's over," he says - begging your pardon, my lady. Then he says: There's something I'd like to take with me," and moves towards his desk. Of course I hadn't ought to have spoken, not with the inspector there, but I couldn't help myself. "You stay where you are!" I tells him. "We'll get whatever it is you want." And I'm bothered if the inspector, just to give me a set-down, didn't tell him he could get it if it was in the room, and welcome. Told me to mind my own business and not teach him his. All in front of the two constables what's more, which he'll wish he hadn't done when it comes to the chief constable inquiring how it happened.