“Well, why not? Two people have been murdered, and Lucius Bellingdon’s life has been attempted. The people who conspired in that business are both dead. What point would there be in involving the wretched Bellingdon in a public scandal? My guess is that there will be a verdict of accidental death, and that that will be that. You are no doubt about to say that someone must have loosened the nuts on the wheel and so brought about the accident, and there will certainly be talk about the coincidence that two cars from the same garage should each have lost a wheel on Emberley Hill, one on Sunday afternoon and the other during Monday night. It certainly suggests a nut-twiddling addict on the premises, and as I said, if I was asked to pick anyone for the job I should plump for Arnold Bray. It’s the sort of creeping, fiddling crime which would be right up his street. But how is anyone going to bring it home to him? I’m told there are no fingerprints in either case, so he either took care to wipe them off, or else he wore gloves for the job. So there’s no evidence against him, nor against anyone else.”

Miss Silver made a highly unprofessional remark. She said,

“Well, it would certainly save a great deal of trouble.”

Frank got to his feet.

“To Arnold,” he enquired-“or to the law?”

She smiled indulgently.

“Perhaps to both,” she said.

Chapter 38

THERE were two other interviews that day. The first was between Lucius Bellingdon and his secretary. It took place at the East Lodge in Hubert Garratt’s sitting-room. Lucius walked down there and walked in. He found a grey-faced man sitting at his writing-table. He was holding a pen, but there was no writing on the sheet that lay before him. His eyes were fixed and he paid no heed to the opening of the door. There was a moment when his stillness and his ghastly look offered a suggestion against which Lucius reacted with vigour. He spoke his name loudly and harshly as he tapped him on the shoulder. Hubert turned like a man in a dream. He said in a vague, abstracted voice,

“She’s dead-”

The hand on his shoulder weighed there heavily.

“Yes, she’s dead. What’s that to you?”

“Everything. Nothing.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“I’d have sold my soul for her. Perhaps I did.”

“And just what do you mean by that?”

Garratt turned dull eyes on him.

“It doesn’t matter what I tell you now, does it? She’s gone-everything is finished. You see, I’ve known all along that she never cared a snap of her fingers for me and never would. Why should she? I had nothing to offer her. There were always other people. There was Arthur-but she was through with him. And there was Clay. And she was all set to get off with David Moray. I know the signs by now. And whoever it was, or whatever she did, she knew I would hold my tongue. She didn’t want me, but she knew she could count on me for that.”

Lucius released him and stood back a pace.

“And just what have you been holding your tongue about, Hubert?”

Garratt said again,

“It doesn’t matter if I tell you now-she’s dead. You see, I’ve known all along that she was in this business somewhere. She knew that I was going to fetch the necklace, and she knew when, and she got the snuff out of the old snuffbox and put it on my pillow-”

“How do you know that?”

“She must have slipped down here sometime during the evening. I knew she’d been here because of the scent she uses. No one else who comes here uses scent, so I knew she had been here, and I wondered why. Afterwards I knew. She put the snuff there to knock me out, and of course it did-she could count on that all right.”

“And why should she want to knock you out?” said Lucius Bellingdon.

Garratt’s face twitched.

“She wanted to get me out of fetching the necklace. She wouldn’t ever have cared for me, but I’ve always been around, and I suppose she didn’t quite-didn’t quite-” His voice petered out. He put up a hand to his shaking lips.

Lucius sat down on the edge of the writing-table. He said in a cool, hard voice,

“She didn’t quite fancy putting you up to be shot at by Masterson? I’ve been around quite a long time too, but she doesn’t seem to have had any scruples about me.”

Garratt’s hand dropped. He said on a startled tone,

“About you?”

“Yes, me. Wake up, Hubert! Who was the most likely person to fetch the necklace if you were knocked out? Me, every time. And I should have fetched it-I was all set to fetch it -but I was doing some garden planning with Annabel, and when I saw it was going to take a bit longer than I thought I sent Arthur Hughes instead. A last minute decision, and one that nobody knew about until it happened. So who do you think was really meant to be crossed off the list when the necklace changed hands? Not you, Hubert, and not Arthur, but me. That’s been borne in upon me for some time now. Miss Silver got on to it right away, but I wasn’t admitting it. I haven’t admitted it now-not to anyone but you, and I think we’ll keep it that way. They were flying for higher game than the necklace all the way through. I was to be got out of the way before I could marry Annabel and alter my will. My plans must have been obvious enough. So the bargain was made. I was to be eliminated, and Clay and Moira were to go shares in the proceeds. Marriage and a half share for him, the necklace and the other half for her. That of course is why it was returned -whatever happened, she had to have the necklace. Not many scruples about all that, are there?”

Hubert said, “She wouldn’t-” but his voice fell away from the words and let them drop into a gulf of silence. It was so deep that it seemed to be bottomless, but in the end Lucius said,

“I don’t know who loosened the nuts on my off front wheel yesterday afternoon, but it was someone who knew we should be running down Emberley Hill. Moira knew that, and what she knew Masterson would know, though in view of what has happened to them, I don’t suppose they did the job themselves-that’s pushing coincidence too far. I suspect Arnold, who is definitely in the jackal class, but I suppose we shall never know for certain unless he gives himself away. They were probably double-crossing him by going off without giving him his pay, so he repeated his performance for their benefit. Meanwhile the two of them had another trick up their sleeves, and it’s thanks to Miss Silver that it didn’t come off. Now this is for you, and it’s to go no farther. Moira drugged my coffee last night, and she brought Masterson into my room between twelve and one in the morning to smother me with a damp pillow. I don’t know what put it into Miss Silver’s head that anything of that sort was on foot, but something did, and she brought David Moray along and caught them. Masterson came out with being married to Moira-a last gambler’s throw-and I told them to clear out. They cleared, but they didn’t get far.”

He stopped, and there was a long pause. Garratt had pushed back his chair a foot or two. He did not look at Lucius. After a while he said in an exhausted voice,

“When do you want me to go?”

Lucius Bellingdon leaned sideways and picked up a pencil. He sat there on the edge of the table and balanced it between two of his fingers, his air one of intense concentration. Anything or everything might have hung on that delicate balance. All in a moment he tossed the pencil back on to the tray from which he had taken it and said,

“Why should I want you to go?”

Hubert Garratt lifted one of his hands and let it fall again.

“I ought to have told you-about the snuff -I’ve been in hell. You wouldn’t feel-you could trust me. I don’t trust myself.”

Lucius got to his feet. He said in a casual tone,

“Don’t be more of a damned fool than you can help, Hubert. Be up at the house in half an hour, will you. There’s quite a lot to do.”