Miss Allison did not scream, because she was not in the habit of relieving her feelings by a display of hysterics, but her knees felt suddenly weak, and she grasped a chair back instinctively.
Pritchard, after one instant's shocked recoil, had started forward to his master's side. Miss Allison heard him say in a shaken voice: "My God, he's been shot through the head! Oh, my God!"
Oscar Roberts, with a murmured word of apology, put Miss Allison out of his way and strode into the study. He wasted no time in verifying Pritchard's statement but after a quick glance round the room leapt for the open window, threw a leg over the sill, and the next instant had plunged into the shrubbery on the other side of the narrow gravel path.
Miss Allison set her teeth and walked into the study.
The butler was looking very white and made a sign to her not to come near his master's desk. "Don't, miss! I wouldn't—" he said, wiping his face with his handkerchief.
"The police. We must telephone to the police," Miss Allison said in an unnaturally calm voice and picked up the receiver from the instrument on the desk, keeping her eyes carefully averted from Clement's huddled body.
A quick footstep sounded in the hall, and the next moment Jim Kane came into the room. "What was that?" he demanded. "I could have sworn I heard a—" He broke off. "Good God!" he said and went at once to the desk and bent over Clement. He straightened himself almost at once, nearly as white as Pritchard. "Who did it?" he said curtly.
The butler shook his head. Miss Allison, connected with the police station, said baldly: "I am speaking from Cliff House. Mr. Clement Kane has been shot. Will you please send someone at once?"
Oscar Roberts, rather dishevelled and out of breath, reappeared at the window and climbed into the room again. "Those gosh-darned rhododendrons!" he said. "He's gotten away, the skunk!"
"Who?" said Jim sharply. "Do you know who did this? Did you see him?"
"Not to say saw," Roberts replied. "I kind of heard a rustle amongst those bushes and made for it, but it's like a jungle out there, and he had the start of me. The way I figure it he was making for the front drive. You've got all of a twenty-foot bank of those rhododendrons right the way up the drive. It was a cinch for that guy! Through that darned shrubbery to the drive, across it into the rhododendrons. Surest thing you know, he was over the wall with a clean getaway before I reached the drive. Say, did you ring up the police?"
Miss Allison nodded. Jim said: "Look here, do you know who did this?"
Roberts bent to brush the leaf mould from his trousers. "If I knew who did it I wouldn't be standing here waiting for your comic police, Mr. Kane," he replied enigmatically.
Jim stared at him, his brows knit. "Any ideas on the subject?" he said.
"That's a large question, Mr. Kane. Guess we can all of us have ideas, but believe me, there's more harm done spreading them about than by keeping them to yourself." His deep-set eyes fell on Miss Allison. He said significantly: "Maybe you'd like to take Miss Allison out of this."
"I'm all right," said Patricia, pressing her handkerchief to her lips.
Timothy's voice was heard in the garden. "I say, what's up?" he panted. "I swear I heard a shot!"
Oscar Roberts moved swiftly to the window, to block the view, just as young Mr. Harte came plunging out onto the path from the shrubbery.
"Hullo, Mr. Roberts!" said Timothy. "Who's shooting around here?"
Roberts said quickly: "Hullo, son! Whereabouts have you been?"
"Well, I went down to the lodge to meet you, but—"
"That's fine. Look, now! Did you see anyone?"
Timothy stared. "No, only Mr. Dermott. I say, what on earth—"
Miss Allison gave a start and groped for a chair. "Jim! He couldn't have—"
"Shut up, of course not!" said Jim roughly. "Keep calm!"
"Mr. Dermott?" repeated Roberts in his drawling voice. "I get you. And what was he doing?"
"I don't know. He looked like nothing on earth. He simply bolted for his car and went off at about a hundred miles an hour. Has he had a row with Clement, or something?"
Jim removed his hand from Miss Allison's grasp and joined Roberts at the window. "I say, Timothy, push off, will you, and keep your mouth shut? There's been—an accident or something. Clement's been shot."
Timothy's eyes grew round; speechless, he stared at his stepbrother. Jim said: "Go and keep Aunt Emily company, old thing. Do you mind?"
"Gosh!" gasped Timothy and, ducking under Jim's arm, thrust his head and shoulders into the room. A moment later he withdrew them, started to say something, and ended by vanishing discreetly into the shrubbery. When he reappeared he was rather wan of countenance and made no further attempt to look into the study. "Sorry!" he said jerkily. "Ate something that disagreed with me. Who—who did it?"
"We don't know. Clear out, and keep Aunt Emily away. See?"
Mr. Harte, unusually subdued, said that he did and departed.
Jim turned back into the room. "Come on, Pat; you can't do anything here. As far as I can see, there's nothing to be done till the police turn up. Suppose you clear out?"
"Yes," she agreed, getting up. "Of course. I'll go to Mrs. Kane. Do you want me to tell her—or—or what?"
"I should think you'd be the best person. Feel all right?"
"Perfectly, thanks." She moved to the still-open door and went out and through the drawing room to the south side of the house, where she had left Emily.
Emily was standing by her chair, leaning on her ebony cane, with her other hand on Timothy's arm.
Ogle was engaged in spreading her rug over the chair for her to sit on, fussily scolding.
"That'll do!" said Emily snappishly. "I suppose I can stretch my legs if I choose? Anyone would think I was decrepit. I've had a little stroll, and I feel the better for it." She sank down into her chair, rather out of breath, and allowed Ogle to fold the ends of the rug over her knees. "You can tell Jim that Ogle brought the rug," she informed Miss Allison.
Ogle, on her knees and tucking Emily's feet up tenderly, raised her head and said pugnaciously: "I knew she'd feel the wind chilly. I didn't want telling to fetch her rug. Left alone like she was!"
A phantasmagoria of nightmarish conjecture for an instant possessed Miss Allison's brain. She looked from the maid's dark countenance, upturned to hers, to Emily's wrinkled one, with the clenched jaw and the remote eyes staring straight ahead. She said hurriedly: "Mrs. Kane, there is something I've got to tell you. It's very bad news."
Emily's grim mouth twitched sardonically. She glanced up. "I dare say I can stand it. What's the matter now?"
"Mr. Clement has been shot," said Miss Allison baldly.
There was a long pause. Ogle's head was bent over her task; her hands arranged the rug mechanically.
"What do you mean by that?" said Emily at last. "Is he dead?"
"Yes, Mrs. Kane."
"Murdered!" said Timothy.
The old eyes snapped at him. "I didn't suppose it was suicide!" said Emily sharply.
"Didn't you hear the shot? I did!"
"No, I did not," said Emily. Her hands folded themselves together in her lap. "So Clement's dead!" she said. "He's no loss."
Miss Allison saw Rosemary coming towards them from the direction of the lake and realised that she had been forgotten by them all. She said: "Oh, good heavens! Mrs. Clement!—"
Emily looked contemptuous. "Well, she won't break her heart over it." She watched Rosemary's slow approach. "Where's that Dermott?" she asked abruptly.
"He's gone," Patricia answered before Timothy could speak.
"H'm!"
"I think, if you don't mind," said Timothy, "that I'll go and see what's happening indoors."
"I don't think they really want you," said Patricia, sympathising with his evident desire to escape from what promised to be a highly emotional scene.
"I like their darned cheek!" Timothy said indignantly. "Who was it who said all along it was murder? You know jolly well it was me! I bet some people are feeling pretty silly now, that's all!"
"He's probably right," said Emily as he disappeared into the house. "I don't know where he gets his wits from. His mother never had any, and his father always seems to me a fool. You needn't stand about, Ogle; I don't want you."
"You don't—surely you don't connect this with Mr. Kane's death?" said Patricia.
"I never said so, did I?" retorted Emily. She waited for Rosemary to mount the shallow steps onto the terrace and then nodded an imperious summons to her.
Rosemary, whose air of wistful renunciation proclaimed unmistakably to those who knew the circumstances that she had given Trevor Dermott his congee came up to her and said: "Do you want me, Aunt Emily? I was just going up to my room. I want to be alone just for a little while."
This speech clearly invited question, but Emily replied in her flattest tone: "You'd better know before you go any farther that your husband's been shot."
Rosemary looked blankly down at her. "My husband? Clement?"
"You've only one as far as I know," said Emily testily.
Under her delicate make-up Rosemary had turned very pale. There was fright in her eyes, fixed painfully on Emily's face. She faltered: "When?"
"Just now—or so I imagine," replied Emily. She looked up over her shoulder at Patricia. "Wasn't it?"
"Yes. About twenty minutes ago, I suppose. Will you sit down, Mrs.—I mean Rosemary?"
Rosemary shook her head, moistening her lips. "No, I'm all right. I don't seem able to grasp it, quite. My mind feels numb. It's the oddest sensation. As though—"
Emily interrupted with her usual ruthlessness: "There's no need to tell me what you feel like. I've never been interested in your sensations yet, and I never shall be, what's more."
"It's too terrible, too ghastly!" Rosemary said. "How—how did it happen?"
She looked at Patricia, but it was Emily who replied: "That's for the police to discover."
Rosemary looked as though she were going to faint.
Patricia moved quickly to her side and took her arm. "I'll take you up to your room," she said. "It's a dreadful shock for you."
Rosemary made a vague gesture. "Everything seems black! I can't realise it. I simply don't seem to be able to take it in."
Emily gave a short laugh under her breath but said nothing more. Miss Allison led Rosemary in through the drawing room to the hall. Here they were checked by the sight of a uniformed police-sergeant and a man in plain clothes who was speaking to Oscar Roberts.
Rosemary gave an uncontrollable start; her long pointed fingernails dug into Miss Allison's arm; Patricia heard the quick intake of her breath and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Jim Kane turned. "Oh!— Just a moment, Rosemary. Take her into the morning room, Pat. The inspector wants to ask her one or two questions."
Miss Allison could not help thinking that he seemed to have changed from the man she knew into a rather forbidding stranger. He gave her a brief hint of a smile and walked across the hall to open the door into the morning room.
"I don't know anything!" Rosemary said rather too loudly. "I feel utterly dazed. I can't think! For God's sake don't leave me, Patricia!"
"It's all right; I won't go," Patricia said soothingly.
Jim shut the door on them. Rosemary sank into a chair, shivering. "Oh God, I feel most frightfully sick!" she said, pressing her hands to her temples. "What does he want to see me for? I wasn't even in the house. I can't tell him anything. I don't know anything. Where are you going?" Her voice rose on a note of panic.
"Only to get you something to help you pull yourself together. I won't be a minute."
"No, no, don't! I simply can't bear it. He might come in at any moment!"
Patricia came back to her side but said sensibly: "Well, you must try to calm yourself. The inspector won't eat you. Don't you see that you're one of the first people he's bound to want to talk to? Honestly, there's nothing to be afraid of."
"Oh, I know, but when one's nerves have had a frightful shock, one simply isn't oneself. I really do feel as though I were going to be sick, or faint, or something."
At this moment Jim came into the room with a glass in his hand. Rosemary was rocking herself slightly, giving little dry sobs. He went to her and, putting his arm round her shoulders, held the glass to her lips. "It's only brandy— Come along!"
Her teeth chattered against the glass, but she swallowed the spirit and said chokingly: "Thanks. What does that awful man want with me?"
"He isn't awful. Quite human," Jim replied.
"There's something about policemen that makes one's inside turn upside down," said Rosemary. "I can't help it. I shall be all right in a minute."
"Have they found out anything, Jim?" asked Miss Allison in a low voice.
Over Rosemary's head his eyes met hers for a moment. "No. Not yet."
"What's going to happen?"
"I don't know. Looks like a nasty mess. Do you feel fit enough to see Inspector Carlton now, Rosemary?"
"As long as he doesn't expect me to think!" said Rosemary unpromisingly.
Jim went out again, and in a few minutes the inspector came into the room.
His initial speech of sympathy for the murdered man's widow and his apology for being obliged to disturb her at such a time did much to restore Rosemary's poise. She stopped rocking herself to and fro and achieving a wan smile explained that she was one of those excessively highly-strung people whose nerves were simply unequal to the task of bearing her up in the face of disaster.
The inspector said that he quite understood.
"Everything seems to be a blank," added Rosemary, passing a hand across her eyes.
"I am sure no one could be surprised that you should feel like that, madam. It must be a terrible shock. I understand you were not in the house when it happened."
"Thank God, no!" answered Rosemary with a strong shudder. "I think I should have gone quite, quite mad."
"Yes indeed, madam. I wonder if you would mind telling me just where you were at the time?"
"I think I must have been down by the lake. I went there—oh, at about three, I should think. Miss Allison saw me go, didn't you, Patricia?"
Miss Allison corroborated this and found herself favoured by the inspector with a long searching look.
"Miss Allison?" he said.
"Yes."
"You are Mrs. John Kane's secretary, I understand?"
"Yes."
"You were in the house at the time of the murder?"
"Yes. I was in the room next to this."
"Thank you," said the inspector, making an entry in his notebook. He glanced at Rosemary again. "Was anyone with you in the garden this afternoon, madam?"
"Oh yes!" replied Rosemary nervously. "A friend of ours called. I was sitting talking to him by the lake for quite some time."
"His name?" asked the inspector, pencil poised.
"Dermott—Mr. Trevor Dermott. A very old friend of ours."
The inspector looked up. "Is Mr. Dermott on the premises now?"
"No, oh no! He left some time ago. I mean, before I'd the least idea of this frightful thing having happened."
"Mr. Dermott did not, to your knowledge, see your husband this afternoon, madam?"
"No, I know he didn't. He never came up to the house at all. My husband had a business appointment, and I walked down the drive to meet Mr. Dermott. He simply left his car down the drive, and we sat by the lake till he had to go."
The inspector looked at her. "You were expecting Mr. Dermott this afternoon?"
"Well, yes, in a way I was. I mean, he said he might look me up today if he got back from town."
"I see." The inspector closed his notebook. "Had your husband, to your knowledge, any enemies, madam?"
Rosemary did not answer for a moment. Miss Allison watched her with misgiving. Rosemary raised her eyes to the inspector's face and said hesitantly: "I hardly know what to say. As a matter of fact, I do happen to know that he was having a good deal of trouble at the office with his partners. I don't really understand business—I simply don't pretend to—but I know his partners were absolutely set on doing something my husband wouldn't agree to."
"Mr. Clement Kane was, I understand, the senior partner in the firm?"
"Yes, he was; that's just it."
"You don't know of any private quarrel Mr. Kane may have had?"
"N-no," Rosemary answered. "Not exactly a quarrel. Of course, I know his great-aunt resented his inheriting all Silas Kane's property and loathed us being here, but they didn't quarrel. I simply hate having to tell you this, but I do feel it's my duty not to keep anything back. And actually it's no secret that his great-aunt hated Clement. Everyone knows that James Kane is the one she'd like to have here."
Miss Allison fixed her gaze upon the prospect outside and thought of all the painful ways there might be of killing Mrs. Clement Kane. Rosemary's voice flowed on, but at last the inspector went away, and Miss Allison was able to favour Rosemary with a pithy rйsumй of her own character as seen through the eyes of Mr. James Kane's affianced wife.
Her remarks, however, glanced off the armour of Rosemary's superb egotism. Rosemary was grieved to think that anyone could so misjudge the purity of her motives. She explained earnestly that she had gone through the familiar processes known to her as Asking Herself What She Ought to Do. Miss Allison, who knew that Rosemary's mysterious Self, so often appealed to, so invariably in agreement with Rosemary, was divinely guided, at this point abandoned the argument and left the room.
The inspector, meanwhile, encountering James Kane in the hall, had requested him to accompany him to the study, whence Clement's body had by this time been removed for the purpose of answering a few questions on his own movements during the course of the afternoon.
"You state that you were seated on the terrace in the company of the elder Mrs. Kane until about half-past three, when the shot was fired?"
"Yes," agreed Jim.
"When you left Mrs. Kane, where did you go, sir?"
"Up to her rooms on the first floor. She wanted her garden rug, and I went to ask her personal maid for it."
"I understand the maid was not in Mrs. Kane's rooms at the time?"
"No."
"So what did you do, sir?"
"I looked round for the rug but couldn't see it. I then came downstairs again and went into the garden hall, thinking it might be kept there."
"The garden hall? That is the room on the same side of the house as this?"
"Correct."
"With a way into the garden, I think?"
"Of course. I'll show you."
"You were, I think you said, in this garden room when you heard the shot fired?"
"I was, yes."
"Did you form any idea of the direction from which the sound came?"
"I thought it came from just outside."
"What did you do, sir?"
"I went out at once through the door onto the path that runs down the side of the house and looked round."
"And you saw no one, Mr. Kane?"
"Not a sign of anyone."
The inspector moved to the window and looked out. Then he drew his head in again. "You stated a little while ago that you went out immediately you heard the shot. If that is so, it seems very strange that you should not have caught a glimpse of anyone on this side of the house. There does not seem to be any room for doubt that your cousin was shot from the window."
Jim frowned a little. "Yes, it does," he admitted. "Damned odd. I can only suppose that whoever it was must have managed to get to cover in the shrubbery before I came out. I shouldn't have thought he had time. He must have been darned nippy."
The inspector's eyes measured the distance from the path to the shrubbery. Then he looked at Jim again and said: "When you failed to see anyone, did you make any sort of search in the shrubbery, sir?"
"No. I waited for a moment or two and then came into the house again. Then I saw this door standing open and heard the butler and Miss Allison talking."
"You waited for a moment or two? Why did you do that, sir?"
Jim smiled. "Well, to tell you the truth, I thought it might be my young stepbrother up to mischief. I shouted at him, but he answered me from quite some way off, and I realised it couldn't have had anything to do with him."
The inspector made a lengthy note in his book and after an appreciable pause said: "Mr. Clement Kane had recently inherited a considerable property. I understand you are the present heir, are you not, sir?"
"I?" said Jim. "No, you've been misinformed there. I belong to the youngest branch of the family. After my cousin Clement, it would go to the Australian branch."
"Indeed, sir, is that so?" The inspector seemed interested. "Would you mind giving me the name of the present heir?"
"Sorry, I'm afraid I can't. My great-aunt would probably know, though. I think it's a female—but I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps you'd like to see Mrs. Kane yourself?"
"If you please, sir," said the inspector, standing aside for Jim to go before him out of the room.
In the hall Jim stopped, for Pritchard was standing by the open front door, speaking in a low voice to Joseph Mansell.
Joseph caught sight of Jim and came forward at once. "Jim! This—this appalling— 'Pon my word, I don't know what to say! I came round to pay a call on Mrs. Kane and was met by—this shocking news. I—really, I'm so overwhelmed by it—so upset!— Good God, it's incredible, utterly incredible!" He wiped his face with his handkerchief as he spoke, and Jim saw that his hand was shaking a little. "Pritchard tells me he was shot in his study. I suppose you have no idea who can have done such a dastardly thing?"
"None at all, sir."
"No, no, naturally not!" Joe said. "It's inexplicable! I shouldn't have said he had an enemy in the world. Poor fellow, poor fellow!" He became aware of Inspector Carlton at Jim's elbow and gave him a nod of recognition. "This is a terrible business, Inspector. It doesn't bear thinking of. The loss to the firm too! A most able fellow, a splendid man to work with, just like his cousin before him! What a tragedy!" He shook his head and, fetching one of his gusty sighs, said: "I had better go now. I wouldn't dream of worrying Mrs. Kane at such a moment." He glanced uncertainly at Carlton and added: "If there's anything I can do, or—or if you want me, Inspector, you know where you can find me, don't you?"
"Yes sir. I shall be wanting to ask you one or two questions."
"Certainly, certainly! Anything I can tell you—only too anxious to be of assistance!" Joe assured him.
"If you'll wait a minute I'll find out if my great-aunt can see you, Inspector," said Jim.
The inspector bowed and walked over to study a somewhat gloomy seascape hanging by the front door.
Jim went into the drawing room, where he found not only Emily, but Oscar Roberts, and Timothy, and Miss Allison as well.
Emily, having said that she saw no reason why tea should not be served as usual, was seated in her particular chair, eating a slice of bread and butter. Miss Allison, behind the tea table, did not seem to be hungry, but Timothy and Mr. Roberts were following Emily's example.
"Well?" said Emily, glancing up at her favourite great-nephew. "Have they done yet? Your tea will be cold."
"Just a moment, Aunt. The inspector wants to ask you a question. May I show him in?"
Emily said in her most disagreeable voice: "I don't know what he thinks I can tell him. You can show him in if you want to."
"It's only about the Australian cousin," explained Jim. "He wants to know her name. It is a she, isn't it?"
"What's that Australian lot got to do with him?" said Emily, opening her eyes to their widest extent.
"I suppose he feels he must check up on everybody," replied Jim. He opened the door again and turned. "Will you come in, Inspector? Mrs. Kane will see you."
The inspector, in asking to question Mrs. Kane, was doing no more than his duty, but he came rather diffidently into the room and, confronted by the old lady seated so upright in her chair and holding in her hand a cup and saucer, at once apologised for intruding upon her. Emily nodded at him and stared in a way calculated to upset the coolest nerves.
"Very sorry to disturb you, madam, I'm sure. If you would just be good enough to confirm that you were seated upon the terrace with Mr.—er—Mr. James Kane up till, approximately, three-thirty this afternoon—"
"Yes, I was," said Emily.
"I understand you asked Mr. Kane to fetch a rug at about the time of the murder?"
"I dare say," said Emily. "Not that I know when the murder was committed, for I don't."
"You did not hear the shot, madam?"
"No, I did not," said Emily. "If I'd heard the shot I should have said so."
"Yes madam—I'm sure." The inspector coughed and added tentatively: "I beg pardon, but are you at all deaf, madam—if I may ask?"
Emily, who, in common with most people afflicted by slight deafness, strongly resented such an implication being made, glared at him and said angrily: "There's nothing wrong with my hearing at all! I hear very well indeed—as long as people don't mumble at me!"
The inspector recognised this bitter rider. He had heard it from his own father many times. He made haste to assure Emily that he quite understood.
"If I didn't hear the shot it was because I wasn't near enough," said Emily. "I went for a little walk while my great-nephew was looking for the rug."
The inspector looked consideringly at her. She was a very old lady, he knew, and there was a cane leaning against the arm of her chair.
"Is there anything more you want to know?" demanded Emily.
"Just one point, if you please, madam. Might I have the name and address of the present heir to the property?"
There was a pause. Emily was still staring at the inspector as though at some irrelevant intruder. She said at last: "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jim said helpfully: "The Australian lot, Aunt Emily. Isn't there a cousin, or something?"
Emily transferred her gaze slowly to his face. "What about her?"
"Well, she must be the heir," Jim pointed out.
"Rubbish!" said Emily scornfully. "She's no such thing. You're the heir."
Her words produced something in the nature of a sensation. Even Oscar Roberts, who had been tactfully gazing into his teacup, looked up. Miss Allison gave a gasp, and Timothy summed up the situation by saying in an awed voice: "Gosh!"
Jim bunked. "But hang it all, Aunt, I can't be! My grandfather was the youngest son, surely? This Australian woman must be senior to me!"
Emily drank her tea and set the cup and saucer down on a small table at her elbow. "If you'd ever taken the trouble to read your great-grandfather's will, which I've no doubt you didn't, you'd know that while there's a male heir living the property can't descend to a female," she said.
"Good God!" said Jim blankly. "Do you mean Matthew Kane entailed it?"
"It's no use talking to me about entails: I don't know anything about them. But the property doesn't go to a woman while there's a male Kane living—that I do know."
An astonished silence fell. Oscar Roberts broke it, saying: "Well, I'll say that beats all! Imagine you not so much as suspecting you stood next in the line of succession, Mr. Kane!"
"I'd no idea," said Jim. "I never even thought about it!"
"Why should he?" demanded Emily with a fierce look at Roberts. "He couldn't expect both his cousins to die within a month of each other, could he?"
"I'll say not, Mrs. Kane," replied Roberts, smiling. "But to find yourself heir to a fortune without having had the least suspicion of it coming your way—say, that certainly is romance!"