peace for weeks. I tried to hold out, but I can’t do it any longer, I’m terrified of what they’ll do. I can’t help it if we lose money, I just can’t help it. Now get out, and stop trying to persuade us. We’ve got to sell that farm.”
The girl turned round and her expression told Rollison that the quicker he left, the better she would like it. Selby’s eyes said the same thing, less politely. M.M.M. stepped towards the door and began to open it.
Then he jumped and his gun rose sharply, for the door was thrust against him, and a tall, brown-clad man stepped in.
“Hallo, Roily,” this man said, ignoring the gun and the couple in the living-room doorway. “I thought I might find you here.”
“Hallo, Bill,” said Rollison, in just as equable a voice. “How are tricks at Scotland Yard?”
“Scotland Yard?” echoed M.M.M., and backed a pace. Then hastily he thrust the revolver under his coat.
“Meet Superintendent William Grice,” introduced Rollison brightly. “Do you want to see me or the rest of the party. Bill ? I’ll go, if you’d rather be alone.”
“I’d like a word with all of you,” said Grice. He was tall, broad and lean. His skin was sallow, his features were good, the nose rather large and hooked, with the skin stretched very tight at the bridge, making it look almost white. His brown hair was flecked with grey, and he held his hat in his hand.
He wasn’t smiling as he looked at M.M.M. and Gillian,
“You don’t want to talk to us,” cried M.M.M., and he pointed a quivering finger at Rollison. “You want to talk to him. You want to ask him why he’s sheltering a murderer in his flat, an American who killed those men today.”
Jealousy made him say that, of course, because Gillian so obviously liked Tex Brandt. But he also had reason on his side, as Grice would be quick to see.
15
M.M.M. SQUEAKS
Grice’s expression did not change, and nor did Rollison’s. The brother and sister backed into the living-room, while M.M.M.’s finger gradually stopped quivering, and finally his arm dropped to his side. Grice had been looking at him all the time.
“How long have you known about this, Mr. Mome?” Grice asked at last.
“Since I got to London. Brandt—that’s the Yank—left us to telephone, and Miss Selby told me what had happened. It’s the truth, he had a chance to kill both men. Why, Rollison actually told her that the American had done it!”
Gillian was coming forward. It was difficult to guess what was in her mind, but she looked more pale than any time since she had left the cottage.
“That isn’t quite true,” she said. “I told him that Mr. Rollison regarded Mr. Brandt as a suspect.”
“It amounts to the same thing.”
“Not quite,” said Grice, surprisingly mildly. “Mr. Rollison will be coming across to Scotland Yard soon, to answer a few questions, I can deal with that matter then. What time did you hear about it, Mr. Mome ?”
“It must have been about six o’clock.”
“You’ve taken a long time to report it to the police.”
“It’s the first chance I had, it “
“You made a statement about an assault which took place in this building early this evening, and could have made this accusation then,” said Grice coldly. “I hope you will realise that withholding material information is an extremely grave matter and can lead to most unpleasant consequences.”
M.M.M.’s finger quivered again.
“What about him.”
“Would you mind telling us what you want quickly?” asked Gillian quietly. “My brother needs a good rest.”
Grice looked at Selby, and could come only to the same conclusion as Rollison: that here was a man who looked jumpy and on edge, unshaven, with bloodshot eyes: a frightened man. In a different way, M.M.M. was frightened, too. The girl was much more composed than either of them, and it seemed to Rollison that her whole mood was governed by the fact that she had found her brother. She was no longer frightened, but was resigned to whatever was to come.
“I understand that you were taken away from your home against your will,” Grice said to Selby. “Is that true, Mr. Selby?”
“Yes, it’s true,” answered Selby, “and nothing you can do or say will alter my mind. I had to meet a man who called himself Charlie at one o’clock this morning, outside the cottage. He forced me to go away with him. He said that I’d be released once my sister had agreed to sell Selby Farm to him. I—I was kept without food or drink, and they beat me with a rubber truncheon.” His voice quivered. “And they threatened my sister.”
“Who are ‘they’ ?”
“Until today, there were the three of them, Lodwin, this Charlie, and a kind of man-of-all-the-dirty-work : I don’t know his name. There was also an American. I didn’t see him, but I couldn’t mistake an American voice. It must be this Brandt.”
“How did you escape?” asked Grice.
“I didn’t escape, I was allowed to go. Two men brought me in a car to the next street, and told me exactly what they’d do if I didn’t persuade my sister to sell the farm to their representative.”
“Who is their representative now ?”
