just outside the door, smoking a cigarette, and allowing the smoke from the room below to pour out through the open doorway. He had forgotten all about it, but Colin was perfectly right.
He had seen no one on the roof, but he must have been there at least four or five minutes; and during that time there could be no doubt now that Ena Stratton must have been in the sun parlour, alone - or with her murderer. This was infernally awkward.
'And of course,' Colin pursued, 'after that poor David had been telling you all his troubles, you'd have been feeling nasty and worked up.'
Roger turned a distressed face on his accuser. 'David didn't tell me all his troubles,' he could only say feebly. 'He didn't even mention his wife at all. We talked about the test matches, and the leg theory. You can ask him.'
'I wouldn't think of it,' said Colin primly.
Roger said nothing.
'It was you who asked me for the case,' said Colin.
'And you think,' Roger said with emotion, 'that during those few minutes I was up here, I carried Mrs. Stratton to the gallows and hanged her there?'
'Someone did. If it wasn't you, Roger, who was it?'
'You might at least give me the credit of not being such a bungler as to have forgotten the essential chair.'
'Someone forgot it. It was a bad mistake, of course. But the murderer who's found out always has made a bad mistake. I suppose,' said Colin, regarding the end of his cigarette, 'that having been mixed up with murder so much, you didn't regard it quite so seriously as some of us do; and that may have made you a bit careless about the details.'
Roger choked.
'And of course it was your talking about the chair that gave the whole thing away,' Colin went on, with complete imperturbability. 'I wondered what you were driving at. Then I understood. You were worried about that chair. You knew you'd forgotten to put it there at the time; and though you'd seen your mistake and put it right afterwards, you were a bit frightened that somebody might have noticed it wasn't there before. So you tried to suggest it on me, in order to have a witness that it had been there all the time, just in case of trouble. That was jolly clever of you, Roger.'
'But it didn't come off, did it?'
'No, you overdid it,' said Colin frankly. 'Still, it was a bright idea, after you'd given yourself away, to pretend you'd moved it to shield someone else. Very bright. But unfortunately not very probable.'
'It just happens to be the truth, that's all.'
'And as you'd made so many bloomers already,' Colin went on, just as if Roger had not spoken at all, 'I thought you might quite well have been ass enough to have left your fingerprints on it, too, and I'd better wipe them off first and hear what you'd got to say afterwards. Did you leave your prints on it, by the way?' Colin asked with interest.
'Yes,' said Roger wrathfully.
'I thought you would have done,' said Colin, with insufferable complacence.
'I do seem to have been a clumsy murderer, don't I?'
'I expect it takes practice,' Colin soothed him. Again there was a little pause.
'Well, any more?'
'Isn't that enough?' asked Colin.
'And are you going to the police with this fool of a story?'
'I told you, I won't give you away. But you'd better watch out that you don't give yourself away again.'
'I wish you would go to the police,' Roger yammered.
'Thanks, I don't want to be mixed up in it at all.'
'Then I'll go to them myself and tell them exactly what you've said!'
'You're a fool if you do,' Colin said coolly.
In spite of his indignation Roger still had enough sense left to see that he would indeed be a very great fool if he did. Once more there was a raging silence.
Then there was the sound of footsteps outside, and Ronald Stratton appeared in the doorway. 'Oh, here you are, Roger. I've been looking for you everywhere. The inspector's here and wants to see you. In the dining room.' Roger rose, not unthankful to escape. He caught Colin's eye. Colin nodded reassuringly.
CHAPTER IX THE CASE AGAINST DR. CHALMERS
INSPECTOR CRANE, of the Westerford police, was a tall, loosely built man, not in the least like the usual drill - sergeant type of police inspector. He had a pleasant face and, in this house at any rate, almost an apologetic manner; certainly there was none of the snapping self - importance about him which some police officials adopt. Ronald Stratton already knew him fairly well, and so had been able to explain the circumstances to him without the uneasy constraint which the presence of a stranger might have induced.
On learning that Roger Sheringham had been among the guests, the inspector had named that gentleman as the first of the party whom he would like to interview.
'Very pleased to meet you, sir,' he greeted Roger. 'Heard about you before now, of course. A terrible business this, sir, though fortunately not in your line, we hope.'
'No,' said Roger firmly. 'Of course not.'
'No. Well, sir, if you'll sit down, I should very much like to hear from you anything which you think may throw light on the tragedy or assist the coroner.' It was the dining room which had been offered to the inspector for the conduct of his interviews, and both men seated themselves at one end of the long table, the inspector with his notebook expectantly open before him. Roger saw at once that the proceedings were not going to be unduly formal, for both the Stratton brothers were present too, Ronald perched on the edge of the table with his foot on a chair's seat, and David leaning silently back against the mantelpiece.
'You must understand, Inspector, that I scarcely knew Mrs. Stratton,' Roger began, and went on to give an account of his own dealings with her that evening.
'Ah!' The inspector pricked up his ears and licked his pencil hopefully. 'Mrs. Stratton actually mentioned to you her intention of taking her own life?'
'The possibility, rather than the intention,' Roger corrected. 'Still, yes, she did.'
'But in spite of that, you did nothing?' said the inspector, somewhat apologetically.
'What could I have done? She merely referred to the possibility in the future. She said nothing about carrying out any such intention tonight.'
'So you took no steps, sir?'
'None.'
'I ought to ask you,' said the inspector still more apologetically, 'why you did not consider it necessary to take steps?'
'Because I didn't believe a word of what she'd been saying. I'm bound to tell you that I thought she was talking just for effect.'
'' - - I did not consider her intentions serious,'' said the inspector, writing busily. 'Does that express what you felt, Mr. Sheringham?'
'I think so,' Roger agreed, avoiding Ronald Stratton's eye.
'You didn't mention her words to anyone else? To Mr. Stratton, for instance?'
'No; as you say, I didn't take them seriously enough. But somebody else mentioned them to me.'
'Sir?'
'Someone else asked me if she had spoken to me about doing away with herself. I gather,' Roger said drily, 'that she had touched on this possibility to other people besides myself.'
'Is that the case? That's very interesting. Will you be good enough to tell me who asked you that?'
'Certainly. It was Mr. Williamson.'
