Part 10 (1/2)

”I congratulate you. I liked her looks. And that grey dress. A nice comfortable sort of woman.”

”You fool, that's her mother.”

”Oh, I beg your pardon. But anyhow, Bill, I want you more than she does just now. So try and put up with me.”

”I say, do you really?” said Bill, rather flattered. He had a great admiration for Antony, and was very proud to be liked by him.

”Yes. You see, things are going to happen here soon.”

”Inquests and that sort of thing?”

”Well, perhaps something before that. Hallo, here comes Cayley.”

Cayley was walking across the lawn towards them, a big, heavy-shouldered man, with one of those strong, clean-shaven, ugly faces which can never quite be called plain. ”Bad luck on Cayley,” said Bill. ”I say, ought I to tell him how sorry I am and all that sort of thing? It seems so dashed inadequate.”

”I shouldn't bother,” said Antony.

Cayley nodded as he came to them, and stood there for a moment.

”We can make room for you,” said Bill, getting up.

”Oh, don't bother, thanks. I just came to say,” he went on to Antony, ”that naturally they've rather lost their heads in the kitchen, and dinner won't be till half-past eight. Do just as you like about dressing, of course. And what about your luggage?”

”I thought Bill and I would walk over to the inn directly, and see about it.”

”The car can go and fetch it as soon as it comes back from the station.”

”It's very good of you, but I shall have to go over myself, anyhow, to pack up and pay my bill. Besides, it's a good evening for a walk. If you wouldn't mind it, Bill?”

”I should love it.”

”Well, then, if you leave the bag there, I'll send the car round for it later.”

”Thanks very much.”

Having said what he wanted to say, Cayley remained there a little awkwardly, as if not sure whether to go or to stay. Antony wondered whether he wanted to talk about the afternoon's happenings, or whether it was the one subject he wished to avoid. To break the silence he asked carelessly if the Inspector had gone.

Cayley nodded. Then he said abruptly, ”He's getting a warrant for Mark's arrest.”

Bill made a suitably sympathetic noise, and Antony said with a shrug of the shoulders, ”Well, he was bound to do that, wasn't he? It doesn't follow that-well, it doesn't mean anything. They naturally want to get hold of your cousin, innocent or guilty.”

”Which do you think he is, Mr. Gillingham?” said Cayley, looking at him steadily.

”Mark? It's absurd,” said Bill impetuously.

”Bill's loyal, you see, Mr. Cayley.”

”And you owe no loyalty to anyone concerned?”

”Exactly. So perhaps I might be too frank.”