''Mr. Williamson asked me at one period whether ...''
'Mr. Williamson had already asked me, in Mr. Sheringham's hearing,' put in Ronald Stratton, 'whether my sister - in - law was mad. You remember, Sheringham? Quite early.'
'Yes,' Roger nodded. 'I remember quite well. It made me wonder at the time.'
'What did it make you wonder, sir?'
'Whether Mrs. Stratton might be a little unbalanced.'
'And am I right in thinking that your subsequent conversation with Mrs. Stratton did lead you to that conclusion?' asked the inspector, with an uneasy glance at David Stratton.
'It did. I think Mrs. Stratton was undoubtedly a little unbalanced. But not, I thought then, to the point of suicide.' Roger did not add that he did not think that now, either.
The inspector turned, with awkward sympathy, to David Stratton. 'That did not coincide with your own opinion, Mr. Stratton?'
'No,' David said shortly. 'That's why I rang you people up. I considered my wife totally irresponsible for her actions.'
'Yes, yes.' The inspector was a little flustered. 'I have our man's report. Very curious that should have happened on the very same evening when . . . The coroner's bound to ask something about that.'
'But it all fits in, Inspector, doesn't it?' Ronald put in smoothly. 'I mean, it's a rather remarkable piece of corroborative evidence about Mrs. Stratton's state of mind. Why should the coroner ask about it particularly?'
'Well, you see, Mr. Stratton hadn't ever rung us up like that before; had you, Mr. Stratton?'
'No.'
'There'd never been any occasion to do so,' Ronald amplified.
'It struck you this evening that Mrs. Stratton was behaving - how shall I put it? - in a more irresponsible way than usual?' the inspector asked David.
'Yes, I think she was.' David Stratton had spoken all the time in a curiously sharp voice, as if he wanted to get his words out and be done with them.
'After all,' Ronald put in again, 'my brother didn't ring up until Mrs. Stratton had been missing from her home for some time, and not until we'd looked everywhere here first, as I told you. He was naturally alarmed; and I don't suppose Mrs. Stratton had ever behaved in that way before. Had she, David?'
'Never.'
'So in view of the irresponsibility she had shown during the evening, and which other people had noticed besides ourselves, he thought that you people ought to be warned, just in case; though I don't think he anticipated anything really serious. Did you, David?'
'Not really. I thought it better to be on the safe side, that's all.'
'You didn't anticipate that Mrs. Stratton might do away with herself, sir?'
'No; I said, not really. My wife had often talked about suicide. She had moods of great depression. But like Mr. Sheringham, I'm afraid I didn't take it very seriously.'
'I see. What was it that Mrs. Stratton was depressed about?'
'Nothing.'
'Mrs. Stratton suffered from melancholia to some extent,' Ronald supplied, as smoothly as before. 'She had nothing to worry about really; her life should have been a very happy one; but you know how that kind of person magnifies trifles and twists the smallest things into big ones. It was all part of her complaint. It's no good trying to hide the fact, Inspector,' said Ronald, with an air of frankness. 'My sister - in - law was really not quite normal. I think the doctors will be able to give you some useful information on that point, if they haven't done so already.'
'No, sir, we haven't got on to that yet, but no doubt they will. Now, Mr. Sheringham, let me see, you were telling me . . .' Roger resumed his story.
He had been listening with considerable interest to the three - cornered conversation which had just taken place. It was the attitude of David Stratton which had been puzzling him. That of Ronald was plain enough; he had been trying to take as much of the burden off David's thinner shoulders as he possibly could, even to the risk of getting rapped over the knuckles for answering David's questions for him.
But why this sharp, almost aggressive manner of David's when he did speak? And why did he answer sometimes just as if he were repeating a lesson, and a lesson not too intelligently learned at that? He did not seem to Roger to be suffering still from shock. But he did seem to be concealing by this attitude some emotion which he did not care to show; though whether that emotion was joy or sorrow, fear or relief, it was impossible to guess.
The laborious interrogatory was resumed. Roger corroborated the account Ronald Stratton had already given of the scene in the ballroom and Mrs. Stratton's exit, and provided his own version of the return of David and the subsequent search. Everything was written down by the careful inspector, and though Roger made his story as brief as possible, it seemed as if the thing never would be finished.
'Yes, Mr. Sheringham? And after Mr. Williamson made his communication to you?'
'I called Mr. Stratton, and we ran up on the roof. Mr. Stratton held Mrs. Stratton up,' Roger dictated slowly, 'while I made a quick examination which convinced me that she was already dead. I then held her up while Mr. Stratton went to fetch a knife, on my instructions. When he returned, I told him to cut the cord, and I would take full responsibility for the fact that she was cut down.'
'It would, in fact, not be an exaggeration to say that you took charge immediately you suspected that Mrs. Stratton was dead?'
'Yes, in view of the experience I've had in similar circumstances, I felt justified in taking charge.'
'Quite so, Mr. Sheringham; and a very fortunate thing for Mr. Stratton, no doubt, that he had you on the premises. Now did you form any opinion when you examined Mrs. Stratton as to the length of time she had been dead?'
'No, that would be impossible for me; I haven't the knowledge. All I can say is that I thought she must have been dead some time, an hour at least and probably more, because her hands were quite cold.'
'I understand the doctors thought she must have been dead not less than two hours, when they examined her just now. Would you agree with that?'
'Oh, yes; but that's a matter for them, you know, not me. Mitchell's arrived, then?' Roger added to Ronald Stratton.
'Yes; he came just after the inspector, and Chalmers brought him in to see the body at once.'
'He agrees with Chalmers' estimate of the length of time she had been dead?'
'Yes.'
Roger nodded to the inspector to go on with his questions. It was all very informal and pleasingly unofficial; but it was all very tedious, too.
Twenty minutes later, after the inspector had dealt with and dwelt on every conceivably relevant point and a great many irrelevant ones, Roger was allowed to escape and sent Williamson in his place. The inspector was a thorough man and obviously intended to earn his superintendent's praise for taking pains; but it was clear that no thought of anything but suicide had ever seriously entered his mind. Not a question had Roger been asked, among all that welter of questions, which might have caused him to depart from the strict truth concerning any such matters as chairs or fingerprints.
And yet Colin Nicolson was convinced that he, Roger Sheringham of all people, had murdered Ena Stratton.
Colin was being quite nice about it; but that he was so convinced, Roger was sure. And Roger was worried. The crime of evidence - faking had come home to roost on him with a vengeance. He cursed the self - satisfied, smug impulse which had prompted him to alter the position of that chair. That, and the fact that he was known to have been on the roof during the crucial period, gave Colin an unpleasantly strong case against him. Not that Roger was afraid that Colin would inform on him; he was quite sure that nothing of that kind would enter Colin's head. But nevertheless to be suspected so strongly of a murder which one has not committed does give one a nasty, haunted feeling. In justice to himself now, as well as in mere acceptance of a challenge, it was up to Roger to discover the real murderer.
And Colin should jolly well help him! He went upstairs in search of Colin. Roger had always respected Colin, in rather a tolerant way. Now he found himself respecting Colin in great sincerity. One does respect a person who
