"Well, he lets Fountain go to his desk. Any fool could have told him what would happen. He opens a drawer and before you could say knife he'd whipped out a gun and blown his brains out."
"And Joan." said Corkran "was standing in the doorway."
"I'm sorry." said Amberley.
"So am I," Shirley said. "I know Joan Fountain hadn't anything to do with it. I didn't want her to be hurt by it all."
Well, as a matter of fact," said Anthony confidentially, "I don't think she will be, apart from this nasty little show tonight. I mean, he wasn't her full brother, and she never made any bones about the fact that they didn't get on. Bad shock, of course, and all that sort of thing, but you wait till I get her away from the manor." A thought occurred to him. "I say, I suppose the manor belongs to you now, doesn't it?"
Shirley said uncomfortably that she supposed it did. Mr. Corkran brightened considerably. "Well, that's something anyway," he said. "Never could stand the place myself. Altogether rather a good show. But I don't grasp it yet. Why were Dawsonand Collins popped off? What had they got to do with it? Come on, Sergeant! You seem to know all about it. Spill the beans!"
The sergeant said that it would come better from Mr. Amberley. Mr. Amberley, with unwonted politeness, begged him not to be so modest.
The sergeant coughed and shot him a reproachful look. "I'm no hand at talking, sir," he said. "And I wouldn't wonder but what there's a point here and there didn't happen to come my way."
"Frank shall tell us about it," stated Lady Matthews. "Someone give Mr. Corkran something to drink. The sergeant too. Or mayn't you?"
The sergeant thought that he might stretch a point seeing as how he was, strictly speaking, off duty, and had been since six o'clock.
Amberley leaned his shoulders against the mantal piece and glanced down at Shirley, seated on the sofa beside Lady Matthews. "I don't think I can tell you the whole story' he said. "There are one or two things it wouldn't do for the sergeant to hear about. Or my uncle, for that matter!"
"My dear Frank, pray don't be absurd!" said Sir Humphrey testily. "Why should we not hear the whole story? It is bound to come out!"
"Not unless I choose," replied Amberley. "To make it clear to you I should have to divulge certain illegal proceedings which might conceivably induce the sergeant to make two more arrests."
The sergeant smiled. "You will have your joke, sir. I don't know what you done, though I always did say and always will, that you'd make a holy terror of a criminal."
"H'm!" said Mr. Amberley.
The sergeant, who by this time would have compounded a felony sooner than be left in the dark, reminded him that he was off duty. "Anything you say to me now won't go no farther, sir," he assured him.
"Very well," said Amberley. He puffed for a moment at his pipe. "To go back to the start." He drew the crumpled will from his pocket and read the date - "which was on llth January, two and a half years ago, when Jasper Fountain made a new will. This is it. It was drawn up by himself on a sheet of foolscap and witnessed by his butler, Dawson, and his valet, Collins, in favour of his grandson Mark, or failing him, of his granddaughter Shirley. From which I infer that he had only just learned of their existence. Or he may have had a change of heart. It's quite immaterial , he left the bulk of his property to Mark Fountain and the sum of ten thousand pounds to his nephew Basil, who, under the previous will, inherited the entire estate. I find that he died five days later, which would account for the fact that no lawyer drew up this document. Jasper Fountain obviously feared he was very near death. What was done with the will I don't know, but that the two witnesses obtained possession of it at Fountain's demise is positive. Whether they tore it in half then or later, again I don't know. At some time or other this was done, the valet keeping one half and the butler having the other. Basil Fountain inherited the estate under the terms of the old will, and these two blackguards instituted a form of blackmail, holding the later will over his head." He paused and again looked down at Shirley. "You shall tell us why Dawson approached you," he said.
"I think he was afraid of Collins," she replied. "Collins wanted to get back his half. Dawson struck me as a timid sort of creature, not really cut out to be a blackmailer. I don't know how he discovered us." She flushed. "You see my father was - not a particularly estimable person. When he died my mother moved from Johannesburg and called herself Brown. Mark and I kept that name after her death, and when we returned to England. I wasn't proud of our own name. Mark didn't care much either way. However, Dawson found us and wrote to Mark. It was a most mysterious letter, hinting at the existence of a will in his favour and warning him of all sorts of danger. It's at my bank now. I thought I'd better keep it. Mark thought it was a hoax. I didn't. I came down to Upper Nettlefold to inquire for rooms.Ivy Cottage was to let, and I took that. It suited me better really, because of-because of Mark's - habits. 1 made Mark write to Dawson, telling him he'd meet him. That frightened Dawson; he didn't want us here, it was too dangerous. He came once to the cottage, but he was terrified of being seen there, and he wouldn't come again. He told us very much what you've heard from Frank. He wanted to get out - I don't think he was afraid of the police so much as of Collins. He offered to sell us his half." She broke off and looked towards the sergeant. "Of course I knew I was going against the law ill negotiating with him, but I couldn't put the matter into the hands of the police, because not only was the will torn in half, but if Collins got wind of the fact that the police were on to him he'd immediately destroy his half."
"Very awkward, miss," agreed the sergeant, who had been listening spellbound.
"The trouble was," Shirley continued, "he wanted a ridiculous sum for it, and naturally we couldn't possibly raise anything like the money until we came into possession of my grandfather's estate. It was rather a deadlock, but in the end we reached a compromise, and Dawson —principally, I think, because he was afraid if he held out we should make trouble with the police - agreed to trust us. He was to meet Mark on the Pittingly Road on his evening out and hand over his half of the will which seemed to me better than nothing. In return Mark was to give him a plain IOU for five thousand pounds."
"Hold on a moment, miss! Was your brother present when he was done in?" demanded the sergeant.
"You're off duty, Sergeant," Mr. Amberley reminded him. "We now come to my own nefarious conduct. You remember that I told you I wasn't sure that I was on your side?"
" I do sir," said the sergeant, regarding him round eyed.
"I informed you," proceeded Amberley, "that I had discovered the body of a murdered man in an Austin Seven saloon on the Pittingly Road. What I did not tell you was that standing in the road beside that car I found Miss Shirley Fountain."