I know how you always try to save us trouble and annoyance.' She added in gentle dismissal, 'That will be all now.'
Gudgeon hesitated, threw a fleeting glance towards Sir Henry and then at the Inspector, then bowed and moved towards the door.
Grange made a motion as though to stop him, but for some reason he was not able to define to himself, he let his arm fall again.
Gudgeon went out and closed the door.
Lady Angkatell dropped into a chair and smiled at the two men. She said conversationally:
'You know, I really do think that was very charming of Gudgeon. Quite feudal, if you know what I mean. Yes, feudal is the right word.'
Grange said stiffly:
'Am I to understand, Lady Angkatell, that you yourself have some further knowledge about the matter?'
'Of course. Gudgeon didn't find it in the hall at all. He found it when he took the eggs out.'
'The eggs?' Inspector Grange stared at her.
'Out of the basket,' said Lady Angkatell.
She seemed to think that everything was now quite clear. Sir Henry said gently:
'You must tell us a little more, my dear. Inspector Grange and I are still at sea.'
'Oh!' Lady Angkatell set herself to be explicit. 'The pistol you see was in the basket, under the eggs.'
'What basket and what eggs, Lady Angkatell?'
'The basket I took down to the farm. The pistol was in it, and then I put the eggs in on top of the pistol and forgot all about it.
And when we found poor John Christow dead by the pool, it was such a shock I let go of the basket and Gudgeon just caught it in time (because of the eggs, I mean. If I'd dropped it they would have been broken), and he brought it back to the house. And later I asked him about writing the date on the eggs-a thing I always do- otherwise one eats the fresher eggs sometimes before the older ones-and he said all that had been attended to- and now that I remember, he was rather emphatic about it. And that is what I mean by being feudal. He found the pistol and put it back in here-I suppose really because there were police in the house.
Servants are always so worried by police, I find. Very nice and loyal-but also quite stupid, because, of course. Inspector, it's the truth you want to hear, isn't it?'
And Lady Angkatell finished up by giving the Inspector a beaming smile.
'The truth is what I mean to get,' said Grange rather grimly.
Lady Angkatell sighed.
'It all seems such a fuss, doesn't it?' she said. 'I mean, all this hounding people down. I don't suppose whoever it was that shot John Christow really meant to shoot him-not seriously, I mean. If it was Gerda, I'm sure she didn't. In fact, I'm really surprised that she didn't miss-it's the sort of thing that one would expect of Gerda. And I she's really a very nice, kind creature. And if you go and put her in prison and hang her, what on earth is going to happen to the children? If she did shoot John, she's probably dreadfully sorry about it now. It's bad enough for children to have a father who's that you yourself have some further knowledge about the matter?'
'We are not contemplating arresting anyone at present, Lady Angkatell.'
'Well, that's sensible at any rate. But I have thought all along, Inspector Grange, that you were a very sensible sort of man.'
Again that charming, almost dazzling smile.
Inspector Grange blinked a little. He could not help it, but he came firmly to the point at issue.
'As you said just now, Lady Angkatell, it's the truth I want to get at. You took the pistol from here-which gun was it, by the way?'
Lady Angkatell nodded her head towards the shelf by the mantelpiece. 'The second from the end. The Mauser.25.' Something in the crisp, technical way she spoke jarred on Grange. He had not, somehow, expected Lady Angkatell, whom up to now he had labelled in his own mind as 'vague' and 'just a bit batty,' to describe a firearm with such technical precision.
'You took the pistol from here and put it in your basket. Why?'
'I knew you'd ask me that,' said Lady Angkatell. Her tone, unexpectedly, was almost triumphant. 'And, of course, there must be some reason. Don't you think so, Henry?' She turned to her husband. 'Don't you think I must have had a reason for taking a pistol out that morning?'
'I should certainly have thought so, my dear,' said Sir Henry stiffly.
'One does things,' said Lady Angkatell, gazing thoughtfully in front of her, 'and then one doesn't remember why one has done them. But I think, you know. Inspector, that there always is a reason if one can only get at it. I must have had some idea in my head when I put the Mauser into my egg basket.' She appealed to him. 'What do you think it can have been?'
Grange stared at her. She displayed no embarrassment-just a childlike eagerness.
It beat him. He had never yet met anyone like Lucy Angkatell and just for the moment he didn't know what to do about it.
'My wife,' said Sir Henry, 'is extremely absentminded, Inspector.'
'So it seems, sir,' said Grange. He did not say it very nicely.
'Why do you think I took that pistol?' Lady Angkatell asked him confidentially.
'I have no idea, Lady Angkatell.'
'I came in here,' mused Lady Angkatell. 'I had been talking to Simmons about the pillow cases-and I dimly remember crossing over to the fireplace-and thinking we must get a new poker-the curate, not the rector-'
Inspector Grange stared. He felt his head going round.
'And I remember picking up the Mauser-it was a nice handy little gun, I've always liked it-and dropping it into the basket-I'd just got the basket from the flower room-But there were so many things in my head-Simmons, you know, and the bindweed in the Michaelmas daisies-and hoping Mrs. Medway would make a really rich Nigger in his Shirt-'
'A nigger in his shirt?' Inspector Grange had to break in.
'Chocolate, you know, and eggs-and then covered with whipped cream. Just the sort of sweet a foreigner would like for lunch.'
Inspector Grange spoke fiercely and brusquely, feeling like a man who brushes away fine spiders' webs which are impairing his vision.
'Did you load the pistol?'
He had hoped to startle her-perhaps even to frighten her a little, but Lady Angkatell only considered the question with a kind of desperate thoughtfulness.
'Now did I? That's so stupid. I can't remember. But I should think I must have, don't you. Inspector? I mean, what's the good of a pistol without ammunition? I wish I could remember exactly what was in my head at the time.'
'My dear Lucy,' said Sir Henry. 'What goes on or does not go on in your head has been for years the despair of everyone who knows you well.'
She flashed him a very sweet smile.
'I am trying to remember, Henry dear. One does such curious things. I picked up the telephone receiver the other morning and found myself looking down at it quite bewildered.
I couldn't imagine what I wanted with it.'
'Presumably you were going to ring someone up,' said the Inspector coldly.
'No, funnily enough, I wasn't. I remembered afterwards-I'd been wondering why Mrs. Mears, the gardener's wife, held her baby in such an odd way, and I picked up the telephone receiver to try, you know, just how one would hold a baby and of course I...
Chapter XXI
In the study. Lady Angkatell flitted about, touching things here and there with a vague forefinger. Sir Henry sat
