a bad temper. In fact, he actually accused me of embezzling. Utterly ridiculous, I need hardly say. As a matter of fact I got into a bit of a mess - I borrowed a little from the firm, just to tide me over. Of course I know I oughtn't to have done it, but when you're hard pressed you do silly things. But to say I stole the money is - is positively laughable! I mean, if I'd wanted to do that I shouldn't be paying it back, which even Vereker admits I am doing. He simply had a down on me -'
'Because he had discovered that you had become engaged to his half-sister?'
'That had nothing to do with him at all!' Mesurier said quickly. 'He didn't care a brass farthing about Tony.'
'He seemed to think it had a great deal to do with him,' said Hannasyde, a dry note in his voice. 'He threatened you with exposure, didn't he?'
'Oh, he threatened me with all sorts of things!' said Mesurier. 'I can't say I took him very seriously, though. I knew perfectly well he wouldn't prosecute when he'd had time to think it over. I mean, it would be too silly, on the face of it.'
'Would it?' said Hannasyde. 'You will admit, I imagine, that if he had prosecuted you for - er - borrowing the firm's money, your career would have been ruined.'
'I don't know so much about that,' Mesurier said uneasily. 'Of course, it would have been damned unpleasant, but -'
'I am speaking entirely in your interests, Mr Mesurier, when I say that the best thing you can do is to tell me the truth about your movements on Saturday night. Think it over.'
'I don't need to. You can't prove it was my car that the bobby thought he saw - and even if it was it certainly wasn't me driving it.' He got up. 'That's absolutely all I have to say.'
'Then I won't keep you any longer,' said Hannasyde. 'But I still advise you to think it over.'
By the time the Superintendent left the Shan Hills Mining Company's premises it was past four o'clock. Awaiting him in the main hall of the building was his subordinate, one Sergeant Hemingway, a cheerful person with a bright eye and a persuasive manner. They went out together to the nearest tea-shop, and, over cups of strong tea, compared notes.
'The trouble is,' remarked the Sergeant at length, 'there's too many people with good motives. I never like that kind of case, Super. Do you remember the Ottershaw murder? Took ten years off my life, that did.' He prodded one of the buns which the waitress had set before them, and shook his head. 'Not at my age,' he said. 'You ought to be able to have 'em up for foisting that kind of food on the public. Keep me awake all night, that would. Take this young Vereker chap. He's a new one on me, Super. Make anything of him?'
'No,' said Hannasyde slowly. 'Nothing at all yet. He's a new one on me too. I suspect, a mighty slippery customer.'
'He's got the biggest motive of the lot, I know that. Here, miss, you take these buns back where they came from, which was the dustbin, I should think, judging from the look of them, and bring me a nice plate of bread-and-butter, there's a good girl.'
'Sauce!' said the waitress, tossing her head.
The Sergeant winked at her, and turned back to Hannasyde. 'Smart-looking girl, that. Well, now, I've got something for you. I went round to this studio, according to your instructions, and got talking to the skivvy there. Regular old cough-drop she is, too. Name of Murgatroyd. Used to be personal maid to the second Mrs Vereker before she was married, and after. Stopped on after Mrs Vereker died, and acted nurse to the kids. You get the layout, Super. She's the devoted family retainer all right. Well, I did what I could, jollying her along, but she was close as an oyster - Thank you, miss.' He waited until the waitress had removed herself out of earshot, and then continued: 'Close as an oyster. Suspicious and wary. But one thing she did say and stuck to.'
'What was it?'
The Sergeant folded one the slices of bread-and butter in half, and put it into his mouth. When it was
'Because he had discovered that you had become engaged to his half-sister?'
'That had nothing to do with him at all!' Mesurier said quickly. 'He didn't care a brass farthing about Tony.'
'He seemed to think it had a great deal to do with him,' said Hannasyde, a dry note in his voice. 'He threatened you with exposure, didn't he?'
'Oh, he threatened me with all sorts of things!' said Mesurier. 'I can't say I took him very seriously, though. I knew perfectly well he wouldn't prosecute when he'd had time to think it over. I mean, it would be too silly, on the face of it.'
'Would it?' said Hannasyde. 'You will admit, I imagine, that if he had prosecuted you for - er - borrowing the firm's money, your career would have been ruined.'
'I don't know so much about that,' Mesurier said uneasily. 'Of course, it would have been damned unpleasant, but -'
'I am speaking entirely in your interests, Mr Mesurier, when I say that the best thing you can do is to tell me the truth about your movements on Saturday night. Think it over.'
'I don't need to. You can't prove it was my car that the bobby thought he saw - and even if it was it certainly wasn't me driving it.' He got up. 'That's absolutely all I have to say.'
'Then I won't keep you any longer,' said Hannasyde. 'But I still advise you to think it over.'
By the time the Superintendent left the Shan Hills Mining Company's premises it was past four o'clock. Awaiting him in the main hall of the building was his subordinate, one Sergeant Hemingway, a cheerful person with a bright eye and a persuasive manner. They went out together to the nearest tea-shop, and, over cups of strong tea, compared notes.
'The trouble is,' remarked the Sergeant at length, 'there's too many people with good motives. I never like that kind of case, Super. Do you remember the Ottershaw murder? Took ten years off my life, that did.' He prodded one of the buns which the waitress had set before them, and shook his head. 'Not at my age,' he said. 'You ought to be able to have 'em up for foisting that kind of food on the public. Keep me awake all night, that would. Take this young Vereker chap. He's a new one on me, Super. Make anything of him?'
'No,' said Hannasyde slowly. 'Nothing at all yet. He's a new one on me too. I suspect, a mighty slippery customer.'
'He's got the biggest motive of the lot, I know that. Here, miss, you take these buns back where they came from, which was the dustbin, I should think, judging from the look of them, and bring me a nice plate of bread-and-butter, there's a good girl.'
'Sauce!' said the waitress, tossing her head.
The Sergeant winked at her, and turned back to Hannasyde. 'Smart-looking girl, that. Well, now, I've got something for you. I went round to this studio, according to your instructions, and got talking to the skivvy there. Regular old cough-drop she is, too. Name of Murgatroyd. Used to be personal maid to the second Mrs Vereker before she was married, and after. Stopped on after Mrs Vereker died, and acted nurse to the kids. You get the layout, Super. She's the devoted family retainer all right. Well, I did what I could, jollying her along, but she was close as an oyster - Thank you, miss.' He waited until the waitress had removed herself out of earshot, and then continued: 'Close as an oyster. Suspicious and wary. But one thing she did say and stuck to.'
'What was it?'
The Sergeant folded one the slices of bread-and butter in half, and put it into his mouth. When it was
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