“What’s that?”
“That ‘The Man in the Brown Suit’ is better looking than poor Mr. Pagett. No, Anne, don’t get cross. I was only teasing. Sit down here. Joking apart, I think you’ve made a very important discovery. Up till now, we’ve considered Pagett as having an alibi. Now we know he hasn’t.”
“Exactly,” I said. “We must keep an eye on him.”
“As well as everybody else,” she said ruefully. “Well, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. That—and finance. No, don’t stick your nose in the air. I know you are absurdly proud and independent, but you’ve got to listen to horse sense over this. We’re partners—I wouldn’t offer you a penny because I liked you, or because you’re a friendless girl—what I want is a thrill, and I’m prepared to pay for it. We’re going into this together regardless of expense. To begin with you’ll come with me to the Mount Nelson Hotel at my expense, and we’ll plan out our campaign.”
We argued the point. In the end I gave in. But I didn’t like it. I wanted to do the thing on my own.
“That’s settled,” said Suzanne at last, getting up and stretching herself with a big yawn. “I’m exhausted with my own eloquence. Now then, let us discuss our victims. Mr. Chichester is going on to Durban. Sir Eustace is going to the Mount Nelson Hotel in Cape Town and then up to Rhodesia. He’s going to have a private car on the railway, and in a moment of expansion, after his fourth glass of champagne the other night, he offered me a place in it. I dare say he didn’t really mean it, but, all the same, he can’t very well back out if I hold him to it.”
“Good,” I approved. “You keep an eye on Sir Eustace and Pagett, and I take on Chichester. But what about Colonel Race?”
Suzanne looked at me queerly.
“Anne, you can’t possibly suspect——”
“I do. I suspect everybody. I’m in the mood when one looks round for the most unlikely person.”