Then one of the side doors opened and he saw Lady Sangore surge out like a full-rigged ship putting out from harbour. Behind her, in a straggling flotilla, came Sir Robert, Kane Luker and Mr Fairweather. Fairweather, peering round, caught sight of a ruddy-faced walrus-moustached man who. looked like a builder's foreman dressed up in his Sunday suit, who got up from the bench where he had been sitting as the party emerged. They shook hands, and Fairweather spoke to him for a moment before he shepherded him into the office which they had just left and came puttering back to rejoin the wake of the fleet. Simon noted the incident as he watched the armada catch sight of Lady Valerie and set a course for her.
'My dear, I'm
She conveyed the impression that a fire in which somebody was burnt to death would not be nearly so distressing if it were not for the subsequent inconvenience which she personally had to suffer.
'I hope you haven't been too bored, my dear,' said Fairweather, puffing through into the foreground.
Lady Valerie smiled.
'Oh no,' she said. 'I've been very well looked after. You haven't forgotten the hero of the evening, have you?'
Fairweather blinked at the Saint.
'Of course—the gentleman who made that magnificent attempt to rescue poor old Kennet. I ought to have got in touch with you before, but—um—I'm sure you'll forgive us, everything has been so disorganized . . .' He shuffled his feet uneasily. 'At any rate, it's a great relief to see that you don't look much the worse for your adventure.'
The Saint smiled—and to anyone who knew him well, that smile would have seemed curiously like the smile on the face of a certain celebrated tiger.
He had been amazingly lucky. The return of Luker and Company had been delayed just long enough for him to coax out of Lady Valerie the whole incalculably important story which she had to tell; their reintroduction couldn't have been more desirably timed if he had arranged it himself. He could look for no more information, but he already had enough to keep his mind occupied for some time. Meanwhile, he could contribute something of his own which might add helpfully to the general embarrassment. He was only waiting for his chance.
'I come from a long line of salamanders,' he said cheerfully. 'Wasn't that Kennet's father I saw you speaking to just now?'
'Er—yes. I've known him for a long time, of course.'
'This inquest isn't being heard in camera by any chance, is it?'
'Er—no. Why should it be?'
'It seems to involve rather a lot of private interviews.'
'Urn.' Fairweather looked even more uncomfortable. He seemed to inflate himself determinedly. 'I fear I have never had any experience of these things. But of course it's the coroner's job to save as much of the court's time a possible.'
Simon toyed gently with his cigarette.
'Lady Valerie and I were just talking it over,' he said. 'She seemed to have an idea that Kennet might have committed suicide.'
'Suicide?' boomed General Sangore with gruff authority. 'No, no, my dear fellow, that wouldn't do at all. We can't possibly have any sort of scandal. Think what it would mean to the poor chap's father. No. Accidental death is the verdict, eh?'
