The Case of the Gilded Fly by Edmund Crispin Page A

o’ course, and the Professor here’ll confirm what I say. Me name’s Joe Williams, an’ I bin workin’ on repairin’ the stonework in the archway opposite there. I was jest downin’ tools an’ makin’ ready to be orf ’ome, when I ’ears that bloody racket – beggin’ your pardon – and ’ops in ’ere quick as lightnin’ to investigate. Must a’ bin only a minute afore you gentlemen.’
    â€˜You haven’t touched anything, have you?’
    The voice replied with some scorn:
    â€˜Not likely. But I ’ad a good dekko round this room, and the other, and there ain’t no one ’idin’ in either of them, unless in that wardrobe there. An’ you can be sure I kep’ me eye on
that
. No one’s come art o’ this room since I bin ’ere. That’s right, ain’t it, Professor?’
    â€˜Williams is all right, Dick,’ said Fen. ‘He’s been employed, in the college for years on odd jobs about the place, and I don’t think he’s liable to fits of homicidal mania.’
    â€˜Not me.’
    â€˜Turn on the light, Fen,’ said Sir Richard.
    â€˜Black-out,’ said Fen gloomily.
    â€˜Oh, blast the black-out. We mustn’t touch anything.’
    â€˜Black-out none the less.’
    â€˜Oh, very well.’ Nigel heard the sound of curtains being drawn over the single window, and a shaft of light cut into the sitting-room from the half-open door. He pulled himself together abruptly and went and blacked out the room, wondering as he did so whether he were likely to be destroying valuable evidence.
    From inside the bedroom Sir Richard was saying: ‘Well, I must get on to the station before I do anything else. Where’s the nearest telephone?’
    â€˜My room,’ Fen replied. ‘The lodge will put you through. You’d better tell Wilkes and my wife what’s happened, but don’t let them come down here. Tell Dolly if she likes to wait a while I’ll be up as soon as I can get away for a moment. Wilkes had better go home, the old nuisance.’
    â€˜All right. Keep an eye on things while I’m away, and for God’s sake don’t mess about.’
    â€˜I never mess about,’ said Fen in a pained voice.
    â€˜Williams, you’d better go across to the lodge and wait there. We shall want you for questioning later.’
    â€˜Right you are,’ replied Williams cheerfully. ‘Hour and a ’alf afore they close yet, anyway. P’raps you can get me over first,’ he added hopefully.
    â€˜Tell Parsons on my authority to see that you get some beer from the buttery,’ said Fen.
    â€˜Oh, thank you sir, I’m sure.’ And Williams came out of the bedroom. He stopped as he saw Nigel and whistled. ‘Well, if it isn’t Mr Blake! ’Ow are you, sir, after all this time? Very glad to see you again, I’m sure.’
    â€˜I’m fine, Williams, thank you. And you?’
    â€˜Might be worse, sir, might be worse. Just able to sit up and take nourishment, as you might say.’ Then, lowering his voice: ‘Nasty business, this, sir. Pretty young thing, too. Friend of Mr Fellowes. I seen ’er come in ’ere several times afore. Only twenty minutes ago she come in ’ere, and ’er give me a “good evening” pretty as you like.’
    â€˜You saw her come in? That may be important.’
    â€˜No doubt about it, sir, no doubt about it. Still, mustn’t talk about the case before the police get at it, I s’pose. Not that they’ll ’ave much of a job. It’s suicide, plain as mustard.’
    â€˜Do you think so?’
    â€˜What else can it be? No one come in or out o’ this room for last ’alf hour except ’er. An’ she couldn’t ’a bin shot through the winder, ’cos it was shut when I arrived.’
    Nigel felt a profound feeling of relief