Luke nodded. 'In your opinion, would the girl Amy have stuck at a spot of blackmail?'
'Again as a matter of opinion, I should say that that was quite possible.'
'Do you happen to know if she had much money in her possession at the time of her death?'
Miss Waynflete reflected. 'I don't think so. If she had had any unusual amount, I think I should have heard about it.'
'And she hadn't launched into any unusual extravagance before she died?'
'I don't think so.'
'That rather militates against the blackmail theory. The victim usually pays once before he decides to proceed to extremes. There's another theory. The girl might know something.'
'What kind of thing?'
'She might have knowledge that was dangerous to someone here in Wychwood. We'll take a strictly hypothetical case. She'd been in service in a good many houses here. Supposing she came to know of something that would damage, say, someone like Mr. Abbot professionally.'
'Mr. Abbot?'
Luke said quickly, 'Or possibly some negligence or unprofessional conduct on the part of Doctor Thomas.'
Miss Waynflete began, 'But surely –' and then stopped.
Luke went on, 'Amy Gibbs was housemaid, you said, in the Hortons' house at the time when Mrs. Horton died.'
There was a moment's pause, then Miss Waynflete said, 'Will you tell me, Mr. Fitzwilliam, why you bring the Hortons into this? Mrs. Horton died over a year ago.'
'Yes, and the girl Amy was there at the time.'
'I see. What have the Hortons to do with it?'
'I don't know. I just wondered. Mrs. Horton died of acute gastritis, didn't she?'
'Yes.'
'Was her death at all unexpected?'
Miss Waynflete said slowly, 'It was to me. You see, she had been getting much better — seemed well on the road to recovery — and then she had a sudden relapse and died.'
'Was Doctor Thomas surprised?'
'I don't know. I believe he was.'
'And the nurses — what did they say?'
'In my experience,' said Miss Waynflete, 'hospital nurses are never surprised at any case taking a turn for the worse. It is recovery that surprises them.'
'But her death surprised you?' Luke persisted.
'Yes. I had been with her only the day before, and she had seemed very much better, talked and seemed quite cheerful.'
'What did she think about her own illness?'
'She complained that the nurses were poisoning her. She had had one nurse sent away, but she said these two were just as bad.'
'I suppose you didn't pay much attention to that?'
'Well, no, I thought it was all part of the illness. And she was a very suspicious woman and — it may be unkind to say so, but she liked to make herself important. No doctor ever understood her case, and it was never anything simple; it must either be some very obscure disease or else somebody was 'trying to get her out of the way.''
Luke tried to make his voice casual. 'She didn't suspect her husband of trying to do her in?'
'Oh, no, that idea never occurred to her!' Miss Waynflete paused a minute, then she asked quietly, 'Is that what you think?'
Luke said slowly, 'Husbands have done that before and got away with it. Mrs. Horton, from all accounts, was a woman any man might have longed to be rid of. And I understand that he came into a good deal of money on her death.'
'Yes, he did.'
'What do you think. Miss Waynflete?'
'You want my opinion?'
'Yes, just your opinion.'
Miss Waynflete said, quietly and deliberately, 'In my opinion. Major Horton was quite devoted to his wife and would never have dreamed of doing such a thing.'
Luke looked at her and received the mild amber glance in reply. It did not waver.
'Well,' he said, 'I expect you're right. You'd probably know if it was the other way round.'
Miss Waynflete permitted herself a smile. 'We women are good observers, you think?'
'Absolutely first class. Would Miss Fullerton have agreed with you, do you think?'
'I don't think I ever heard Lavinia express an opinion.
'What did she think about Amy Gibbs?'
Miss Waynflete frowned a little, as though thinking. 'It's difficult to say. Lavinia had a very curious idea.'
'What idea?'
'She thought that there was something odd going on here in Wychwood.'
'She thought, for instance, that somebody pushed Tommy Pierce out of that window?'
Miss Waynflete stared at him in astonishment.
'How did you know that, Mr. Fitzwilliam?'
'She told me so. Not in those words, but she gave me the general idea.'
Miss Waynflete leaned forward, pink with excitement. 'When was this, Mr. Fitzwilliam?'
Luke said quietly, 'The day she was killed. We traveled together to London .'
'What did she tell you exactly?'
'She told me that there had been too many deaths in Wychwood. She mentioned Amy Gibbs, and Tommy Pierce, and that man, Carter. She also said that Doctor Humbleby would be the next to go.'
Miss Waynflete nodded slowly. 'Did she tell you who was responsible?'
'A man with a certain look in his eyes,' said Luke grimly. 'A look you couldn't mistake, according to her. She'd seen that look in his eye when he was talking to Humbleby. That's why she said Humbleby would be the next to go.'
'And he was,' whispered Miss Waynflete. 'Oh, dear! Oh, dear!' She leaned back. Her eyes had a stricken look in them.
'Who was the man?' said Luke. 'Come now, Miss Waynflete; you know — you must know!'
'I don't. She didn't tell me.'
'But you can guess,' said Luke keenly. 'You've a very shrewd idea of who was in her mind.' Reluctantly, Miss Waynflete bowed her head. 'Then tell me.'
But Miss Waynflete shook her head energetically.
'No, indeed! You're asking me to do something that is highly improper! You're asking me to guess at what may — only may, mind you — have been in the mind of a friend who is now dead. I couldn't make an accusation of that kind!'
'It wouldn't be an accusation, only an opinion.'
But Miss Waynflete was unexpectedly firm. 'I've nothing to go on — nothing whatever,' she said. 'Lavinia never actually said anything to me. I may think she had a certain idea, but, you see, I might be entirely wrong. And then I should have misled you, and perhaps serious consequences might ensue. It would be very wicked and unfair of me to mention a name. And I may be quite, quite wrong! In fact, I probably am wrong!'
And Miss Waynflete set her lips firmly and glared at Luke with a grim determination.
Luke knew how to accept defeat when he met it. He realized that Miss Waynflete's sense of rectitude and something else more nebulous that he could not quite place were both against him. He accepted defeat with a good grace and rose to say good-bye. He had every intention of returning to the charge later, but he allowed no hint of that to escape into his manner.
'You must do as you think right, of course,' he said. 'Thank you for the help you have given me.'
