Murder At Wittenham Park by R. W. Heber Page B

time.”
    â€œEveryone, except for my husband and, of course, Mr. Welch.”
    â€œIf the deceased had shouted out, would someone have heard him?”
    Dee Dee considered this. “I think so. Yes. We were all in the passage close to his door. Of course, there was a lot of chattering. But I think someone would have heard.”
    â€œNo one thought of waking him?”
    â€œThe seven-thirty scene was strictly make-believe. Mr. Welch wasn’t much interested in play-acting.”
    â€œThen why was he here?”
    â€œWanted to buy some land off me,” Gilroy said shortly. “Signing on for the weekend gave him a good chance to haggle.”
    â€œI see,” Rutherford said, deciding there was definitely more to all this than he knew. “And where would I find Mrs. Welch?”
    â€œIn the library, most likely. I’ll show you.” Gilroy led him out into the hall and indicated the library door.
    Inside the library Jim and Jemma Savage were patiently listening to Adrienne Welch unburdening her soul on the subject of her husband.
    â€œPeople didn’t like George,” she was saying, “I know that. Property isn’t a very nice business. He had his enemies. But he was a good husband to me.”
    â€œPrivate faces are often very different to public ones,” Jim said soothingly, remembering fraud rumours about Welch of a few years ago. “Some men can be angels to their families and devils to everyone else.”
    â€œThat’s right. You understand. You reely do understand.” Adrienne’s gratitude for this sympathy began to overflow into tears, and Jemma, who was sitting next to her on a sofa, put an arm round her shoulders. Adrienne pulled some tissues out of her bag and dabbed at her eyes. “Well, he’s out of all that now.” She indulged in another brief session with the tissues. “You should have heard how rude Lord Gilroy was to George. She was bad enough at dinner, but him! You’d have thought we was something the cat brought in.”
    â€œWas he doing business with the Gilroys?” Jemma prompted.
    â€œIt was supposed to be a secret. Well, it never could have been, reely. They needed cash and George needed land. The trouble was they didn’t want to sell the bit we wanted.”
    â€œIt’s often the way.” Jim nodded. “Did they agree in the end?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Adrienne said helplessly. “Not when I was with them. But I think that lawyer of his persuaded them. It’ll be terrible if they did, because where’d I find the money? Like that woman said, it’d be legal even though he is dead. But I don’t know where the contract even is.”
    â€œWouldn’t his company buy the land?” Jim asked innocently, knowing that Welch had probably been a one-man band.
    â€œHe was the company!” Adrienne confirmed. “He could go to the bank with a deal and they’d give him loans. None of the other directors counted for a row of beans.”
    â€œSo it could affect you personally?”
    â€œIt oughtn’t to. I’m just worried that it might.” A note of pride came into her voice. “George left me provided for, praise the Lord. Very nicely provided for. Life insurance.” She smiled weakly, cheered up by this golden lining to the cloud of death. “Oh no, I’ll be all right, just so long as no one lands any debts on my doorstep.”
    Jim was re-assuring her that her own assets could not be touched by her husband’s creditors when Rutherford swung open the double doors and marched in.
    Even to a cynic about the aristocracy, the Gothic library was impressive. Gloomily impressive, it was true, as if the architect had been dreaming of the ultimate in funeral parlours. But the high ranges of mahogany bookshelves lining the walls, the heavy tables and the high-backed sofas made it inconceivable to think of this as a mere