most have seen, of death-pale face and taut jaws, sent her first forwards in a rush and then back with a start.
“You’re not Desmond. You’re not Desmond at all! Who are you?”
“Miss Catford, please go back to your room.”
“Of course; I know! You’re Brian Innes.” Her eyes dilated. “What is it? There’s blood on your hands.”
“There’s blood on somebody’s hands. Keep out of this.”
He saw her shocked look; she did not deserve it. But Paula, for all her gentle ways, had a femininity almost as overpowering as Audrey’s.
“I’ll keep out of it. I won’t ask questions. But not unless you wash those cuts and put iodine on them.”
“Miss Catford, for God’s sake!”
The bathrom at the end of the passage was only ten steps away. Hot water rushed into the wash-bowl. There was no iodine in the medicine-cabinet, but Paula found a bottle of T.C.P. and used nearly half of it on his hands. A whole convulsion of creaks and cracks animated the staircase as Dr. Fell lumbered up. Paula glanced towards him, and back at Brian.
“Now, please! What is it?”
She flung down towel and sponge-bag on the edge of the tub as Brian went out, slamming the door after him. He halted Dr. Fell long enough to take the key from the inside of the study-door, lock it on the outside, and keep the key before hustling the Gargantuan doctor into Hathaway’s bedroom on the left of the study as you faced the back.
Once more a door slammed, with its echoes in thunder outside. Even a less observant man than Gideon Fell would have read his companion’s face.
“Mrs. Ferrier is dead. She went over the balcony out there,” Brian pointed, “and she’s as smashed up as anything I ever saw in World War Two. I’m going to tell you what happened; I’m going to confide in you. Then, I warn you, I’m going to tell the police every reasonable lie I can think of.”
Dr. Fell, who had been standing with head lowered in a mood between incredulous shock and dismay, opened his mouth to roar. Brian stopped him.
“Wait!” he said curtly.
“But, my dear sir—!”
“ Wait. This was murder. They’re going to hear it was murder. That poor damned woman, and I say poor damned woman in more ways than one, was still breathing when I found her. You can’t forget things like that.”
“Then why should you lie?”
“I’ll tell you just what I saw and heard when I ran up here.”
Brian did so, from the first sleepwalker’s cry of, ‘You shan’t have him,’ to the fall headforemost with Audrey’s hand stretched out in touching-distance. Again he saw Eve’s back and hands as she plunged over.
The bed in Hathaway’s room was still unmade. A large ivory crucifix hung over it. Dr. Fell, wheezing heavily, sat down on the bed.
“Miss Page, then, did not go out for a walk?”
“Yes. She went for a walk. But she came back hardly five minutes before I got here. She was too frightened not to go out, and yet too frightened to stay out when she had gone.”
“Sir, will anybody believe that?”
“No. They won’t believe a word she says. That’s why—” Brian stopped.
“But who saw her return? Did Stephanie see her?”
“Nobody saw her. Look here!”
He strode towards the windows, both of which were closed and locked. He unlocked and raised one of them, so that a gush of air dispelled mustiness as well as a faintly sweetish odour. Dr. Fell, whose shock appeared to be passing as his scatterbrain awoke to ghoulish activity, struggled up from the bed and joined him.
Brian pointed along the balcony towards the far bedroom. He also indicated the green-painted wooden staircase going down through the balcony floor to the terrace below.
“As I understand it, Audrey arrived here for the first time at well before two o’clock this morning. Desmond Ferrier drove her in the Rolls. Mrs. Ferrier gave her that bedroom there.”
“I am aware of it, sir.”
Anger kindled in Brian Innes like the pain of torn hands and a wrenched
“You’re not Desmond. You’re not Desmond at all! Who are you?”
“Miss Catford, please go back to your room.”
“Of course; I know! You’re Brian Innes.” Her eyes dilated. “What is it? There’s blood on your hands.”
“There’s blood on somebody’s hands. Keep out of this.”
He saw her shocked look; she did not deserve it. But Paula, for all her gentle ways, had a femininity almost as overpowering as Audrey’s.
“I’ll keep out of it. I won’t ask questions. But not unless you wash those cuts and put iodine on them.”
“Miss Catford, for God’s sake!”
The bathrom at the end of the passage was only ten steps away. Hot water rushed into the wash-bowl. There was no iodine in the medicine-cabinet, but Paula found a bottle of T.C.P. and used nearly half of it on his hands. A whole convulsion of creaks and cracks animated the staircase as Dr. Fell lumbered up. Paula glanced towards him, and back at Brian.
“Now, please! What is it?”
She flung down towel and sponge-bag on the edge of the tub as Brian went out, slamming the door after him. He halted Dr. Fell long enough to take the key from the inside of the study-door, lock it on the outside, and keep the key before hustling the Gargantuan doctor into Hathaway’s bedroom on the left of the study as you faced the back.
Once more a door slammed, with its echoes in thunder outside. Even a less observant man than Gideon Fell would have read his companion’s face.
“Mrs. Ferrier is dead. She went over the balcony out there,” Brian pointed, “and she’s as smashed up as anything I ever saw in World War Two. I’m going to tell you what happened; I’m going to confide in you. Then, I warn you, I’m going to tell the police every reasonable lie I can think of.”
Dr. Fell, who had been standing with head lowered in a mood between incredulous shock and dismay, opened his mouth to roar. Brian stopped him.
“Wait!” he said curtly.
“But, my dear sir—!”
“ Wait. This was murder. They’re going to hear it was murder. That poor damned woman, and I say poor damned woman in more ways than one, was still breathing when I found her. You can’t forget things like that.”
“Then why should you lie?”
“I’ll tell you just what I saw and heard when I ran up here.”
Brian did so, from the first sleepwalker’s cry of, ‘You shan’t have him,’ to the fall headforemost with Audrey’s hand stretched out in touching-distance. Again he saw Eve’s back and hands as she plunged over.
The bed in Hathaway’s room was still unmade. A large ivory crucifix hung over it. Dr. Fell, wheezing heavily, sat down on the bed.
“Miss Page, then, did not go out for a walk?”
“Yes. She went for a walk. But she came back hardly five minutes before I got here. She was too frightened not to go out, and yet too frightened to stay out when she had gone.”
“Sir, will anybody believe that?”
“No. They won’t believe a word she says. That’s why—” Brian stopped.
“But who saw her return? Did Stephanie see her?”
“Nobody saw her. Look here!”
He strode towards the windows, both of which were closed and locked. He unlocked and raised one of them, so that a gush of air dispelled mustiness as well as a faintly sweetish odour. Dr. Fell, whose shock appeared to be passing as his scatterbrain awoke to ghoulish activity, struggled up from the bed and joined him.
Brian pointed along the balcony towards the far bedroom. He also indicated the green-painted wooden staircase going down through the balcony floor to the terrace below.
“As I understand it, Audrey arrived here for the first time at well before two o’clock this morning. Desmond Ferrier drove her in the Rolls. Mrs. Ferrier gave her that bedroom there.”
“I am aware of it, sir.”
Anger kindled in Brian Innes like the pain of torn hands and a wrenched
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