'Oh, I do so agree with you.'
Mrs. Patterson lowered her voice.
'I am taking Gerda and the children straight down to Bexhill. What she needs is rest and quiet. The reporters! You've no idea! Simply swarming round Harley Street.'
A young man snapped off a camera, and Elsie Patterson pushed her sister into the car and they drove off.
The others had a momentary view of Gerda's face beneath the unbecoming hat brim.
It was vacant, lost-she looked for the moment like a half-witted child.
Midge Hardcastle muttered under her breath, 'Poor devil.'
Edward said irritably:
'What did everybody see in Christow?
That wretched woman looks completely heartbroken.'
'She was absolutely wrapped up in him,' said Midge.
'But why? He was a selfish sort of fellow, good company in a way-but-' He broke off. Then he asked, 'What did you think of him, Midge?'
'I?' Midge reflected. She said at last, rather surprised at her own words, 'I think I respected him.'
'Respected him? For what?'
'Well, he knew his job.'
'You're thinking of him as a doctor?'
'Yes.'
There was no time for more.
Henrietta was driving Midge back to London in her car. Edward was returning to lunch at The Hollow and going up by the afternoon train with David. He said vaguely to Midge, 'You must come out and lunch one day?' and Midge said that that would be very nice but that she couldn't take more than an hour off. Edward gave her his charming smile and said:
'Oh, it's a special occasion. I'm sure they'll understand.'
Then he moved towards Henrietta. 'I'll ring you up, Henrietta.'
'Yes, do, Edward. But I may be out a good deal.'
'Out?'
She gave him a quick mocking smile.
'Drowning my sorrow. You don't expect me to sit at home and mope, do you?'
He said slowly, 'I don't understand you nowadays, Henrietta. You are quite different.'
Her face softened. She said unexpectedly, 'Darling Edward,' and gave his arm a quick squeeze.
Then she turned to Lucy Angkatell. 'I can come back if I want to, can't I, Lucy?'
Lady Angkatell said, 'Of course, darling. And anyway there will be the inquest again in a fortnight.'
Henrietta went to where she had parked the car in the market square. Her suitcases and Midge's were already inside.
They got in and drove off.
The car climbed the long hill and came out on the road over the ridge. Below them the brown and golden leaves shivered a little in the chill of a grey Autumn day.
Midge said suddenly, 'I'm glad to get away-even from Lucy. Darling as she is, she gives me the creeps sometimes.'
Henrietta was looking intently into the small driving mirror.
She said rather inattentively:
'Lucy has to give the coloratura touch-even to murder.'
'You know, I'd never thought about murder before.'
'Why should you? It isn't a thing one thinks about. It's a six-letter word in a crossword, or a pleasant entertainment between the covers of a book. But the real thing-'
She paused. Midge finished:
'Is real! That is what startles one.'
Henrietta said:
'It needn't be startling to you. You are outside it. Perhaps the only one of us who is.'
Midge said:
'We're all outside it now. We've got away.'
Henrietta murmured, 'Have we?'
She was looking in the driving mirror again. Suddenly she put her foot down on the accelerator. The car responded. She glanced at the speedometer. They were doing over fifty. Presently the needle reached sixty…
Midge looked sideways at Henrietta's profile.
It was not like Henrietta to drive recklessly.
She liked speed, but the winding road hardly justified the pace they were going.
There was a grim smile hovering round Henrietta's mouth.
She said, 'Look over your shoulder, Midge. See that car way back there?'
'Yes.'
'It's a Ventnor 10.'
'Is it?' Midge was not particularly interested.
'They're useful little cars, low petrol consumption, keep the road well, but they're not fast.'
'No?'
Curious, thought Midge, how fascinated Henrietta always was by cars and their performance.
'As I say, they're not fast-but that car, Midge, has managed to keep its distance, although we've been going over sixty.'
Midge turned a startled face to her.
'Do you mean that-'
Henrietta nodded. 'The police, I believe, have special engines in very ordinary-looking cars.'
Midge said:
'You mean they're still keeping an eye on us all?'
'It seems rather obvious.'
Midge shivered.
'Henrietta, can you understand the meaning of this second gun business?'
'No, it lets Gerda out. But beyond that it just doesn't seem to add up to anything.'
'But, if it was one of Henry's guns-'
'We don't know that it was. It hasn't been found yet, remember.'
'No, that's true. It could be someone outside altogether. Do you know who I'd like to think killed John, Henrietta? That woman.'
'Veronica Cray?'
'Yes.'
Henrietta said nothing. She drove on with her eyes fixed sternly on the road ahead of her.
'Don't you think it's possible?' persisted Midge.
'Possible, yes,' said Henrietta slowly.
'Then you don't think-'
'It's no good thinking a thing because you want to think it. It's the perfect solution- letting all of us out!'
'Us? But-'
'We're in it-all of us. Even you, Midge darling-though they'd be hard put to it to find a motive for your shooting John! Of course, I'd like it to be Veronica. Nothing would please me better than to see her giving a lovely performance, as Lucy would put it, in the dock!'
Midge shot a quick look at her.
'Tell me, Henrietta, does it all make you feel vindictive?'
'You mean'-Henrietta paused a moment-'because I loved John?'
'Yes.'
As she spoke. Midge realized with a slight sense of shock that this was the first time the bald fact had been
