was it? Fear? Pleading…? He remained standing by the hearth, the smoke wreathed above him.
‘Yes… to the average police mind. You did well to ponder over this statement, Mrs Page. For instance, the first thing that leaps to mind is that you, and not your cousin, were the last known person to see Lieutenant Earle alive… and that, at the most, a few minutes before he was killed.’
The blood started in the petal-like cheeks. ‘I most solemnly assure you that he was alive when I left him, Inspector — I could hear him panting as I ran out of the door!’
‘Yes, but you must look at it from our point of view, you know
…Suppose he had followed you, and you had snatched down that truncheon?’
‘I — this is too absurd!’
‘And supposing Johnson, your admirer, had seen this take place. Couldn’t he have thrown Earle downstairs for you, and wiped the truncheon you dropped in your flight?’
‘Inspector, this is fantasy-’
‘Or as an alternative theory, it was Johnson who got rid of him for you… If you were in danger of rape, that would be a mitigating circumstance.’
She tried to get to her feet, but her strength had failed her again. Instead she sat trembling, her big eyes fixed on him.
‘Of course, I’m not saying that either of these theories are correct. They will just appeal to the police mind. At the moment the only motive they have is jealousy, and I’m sure they feel the weakness of it. Policemen are human, Mrs Page. I’m afraid they will jump at the chance of strengthening their case along the lines I have suggested.’
‘But — but it simply isn’t true.’
‘If it were, Mrs Page, I think you would do well to admit it.’
‘I tell you it isn’t, Inspector. Oh God, why isn’t the truth enough?’
‘It’s enough for God.’ Gently hunched his shoulders. ‘When you come to policemen, you’re on a different footing. But you tell me it’s true. For the moment I’m prepared to accept that. Now, what I want you to do is to cast your mind back over every moment of that incident in the saloon, and try to remember any little thing you haven’t told me. Which way did you approach it?’
‘I–I went through the square library and the statue gallery… and then through the west dining room and across the landing.’
‘Did you meet anybody on the way?’
‘No. Nobody.’
‘When you crossed the landing — think, Mrs Page — did you see or hear anything in the least unusual?’
‘No… I couldn’t have done.’
‘What sort of light is that in the hall?’
‘It’s a fifteen-watt bulb… It’s down by the main door. It’s just enough to illuminate the floor of the hall.’
‘But there’s a faint light at gallery-level?’
‘Yes… very faint.’
‘Enough to have seen anyone from the diagonals of the hall — as Johnson claims to have seen you?’
‘Yes, you could just about make them out.’
‘And you saw nobody?’
‘I–I wasn’t actually looking.’
‘Or heard anything?’
‘No.’
‘Nor when you came out — remember, Johnson says he was there then?’
‘I’m sorry.’ She shook her head helplessly. ‘I simply wasn’t thinking about anything except what had just happened.’
Gently nodded expressionlessly. ‘Very well, Mrs Page. We’ll have to leave it at that for the moment, won’t we?’
She glanced at him anxiously. ‘And you — you’ll tell Sir Daynes?’
‘Not immediately, Mrs Page… I’m not an official policeman here, you understand. Perhaps we can present your… confession… to Sir Daynes less alarmingly later on. In the meantime, you have made it, which is all that matters just now.’
She offered him a tentative hand. It was shaking as he grasped it. He made a sudden face at her, which produced a half-tearful smile.
‘And by the way… about your cousin. When did you tell him about what happened?’
‘I didn’t… He’d guessed about it.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Page,’ said Gently.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘ Where can I find his lordship?’
Gently caught Thomas, the butler-valet, just as he was leaving the interrogation room with a tray of dirty glasses. The dignified little fellow stopped politely, the tray balanced on the tips of his fingers.
‘His lordship is on the roof, sir,’ he replied in his smooth, careful voice.
‘On the roof!’ exclaimed Gently, staggered. ‘You did say on the roof, Thomas?’
‘Yes, sir. He told me he expected you to enquire for him, and that is where he would be. I should add, sir, that his lordship not infrequently takes the air on the roof. It offers a considerable promenade, and the view is thought to be quite a striking one.’
‘I don’t doubt it for one minute, Thomas — but isn’t it a bit fresh up there at this time of the year?’
‘A little inclement, sir, I must admit. His lordship is very indifferent to the weather.’
‘He must be!’ Gently gestured to the window, through which some leafless shrubs could be seen shivering in a rising north-easter. ‘Do you think I ought to have two fingers before I venture up there, Thomas?’
The little manservant permitted himself a grin. ‘I would recommend three, sir.’
Gently took the advice, shaking his head. ‘Crazy as a coot’ had been Brass’s description of the sixth baron, and assuredly there was a semblance of reason for it. No man completely in his senses would go roof-walking on a petrifying day like this.
‘You say his lordship often takes a stroll up there?’ queried Gently, as the manservant waited for him to finish his drink before showing him the way up.
‘Yes, sir. Quite often. I believe he enjoys the sensation of solitude obtained on the roof.’
‘Always done it, has he, or is this something new?’
Thomas hesitated. ‘It was not so frequent, sir, before his lordship retired from politics.’
‘Hmn!’ Gently tossed off his Scotch. ‘And he would pick today! Well, lead on, Macduff, and let’s have a look at these historic tiles.’
A spiral stairway just off the great hall led them up to the attics above the state apartments, than which nothing could have been emptier, darker and more depressing. Through these ran a straight, narrow corridor, lit only by a few meagre roof-lights, and at the end of it a door, which shielded a further spiral stair.
‘This leads directly to the roof, sir,’ chattered Thomas, shivering in his monkey-suit.
‘Righto, Thomas… no need to come any further.’
‘Thank you, sir. It is excessively cold. I would persuade his lordship to come down, sir, if you intend a lengthy interview.’
Gently huddled his ulster about his ears. ‘I’ll meet him on his own ground. Just one request, though, Thomas.’
‘Yes, sir?’ Thomas lingered reluctantly.
‘If we’re not down by lunch it’s because we’ve frozen to a chimney-stack… You might have a rescue-party standing by to chip us off!’
The second stairway was a short one, and as he climbed it, Gently could hear the wind whistling at the door
