“Surely you’re not suggesting that Jefferson and Mrs. Plant are in league together, are you?”
“What other conclusion is there? They’re both anxious to get something out of that safe before the police open it, and they’re both palpably worried to death over something. Yet at one o’clock they’re both smiling away to themselves as if a tremendous load had been taken off their minds. I’m afraid that they’re not only in league with each other, but with a mysterious third person as well. How else can you account for their behaviour?”
“Good Lord! You don’t mean that they’re acting with—with the murderer, do you?”
“It looks to me uncommonly like it,” said Roger gravely. “After all, he’s the only person, so far as we know, who could have enlightened them about the safe.”
“But it’s out of the question!” Alec burst out impulsively. “Jefferson—I don’t know anything about him, though I should certainly have set him down as quite a decent fellow and a sahib, even if he is a bit reserved. But Mrs. Plant! My dear chap, you’re absolutely off the rails there. Of all the obviously straightforward and honest people in the world, I should have said that Mrs. Plant was the most. Oh, you must be on the wrong tack!”
“I only wish I were,” Roger returned seriously. “Three hours ago I should have said that the idea of Mrs. Plant being mixed up in a murder was not only unthinkable, but ludicrous. I’ve always thought her a charming woman, and, as you say, absolutely sincere. Certainly not a happy woman (one doesn’t know anything about that husband of hers, by the way; he may be a bad egg); in fact, a woman with a good deal of sorrow in her life, I should say. But absolutely as straight as a die. Yet what can one think now? Facts speak louder than opinions. And the facts are only too plain.”
“I don’t care,” said Alec obstinately. “If you’re trying to mix Mrs. Plant up in this affair, you’re making a hopeless mistake, Roger. That’s all I’ve got to say.”
“I hope you’re right, Alec,” Roger said dryly. “By the way, I think I want to have a word with the lady. Oh, I’m not going to tax her with the murder or anything,” he added with a smile, observing the look on Alec’s face. “But I think she said at lunch that she was expecting to leave here this afternoon. Of course that’s out of the question. She was the last person to see Stanworth alive, and she’ll be wanted to give evidence at the inquest. The inspector must have forgotten to tell her. Let’s go and see what she’s got to say about it.”
Somewhat unwillingly Alec accompanied Roger on his quest. He did not attempt to make any secret of his distaste for this aspect of his new rôle. To hunt down a man who deserves no mercy and expects none is one thing; to hunt down a charming lady is very much another.
Mrs. Plant was sitting in a garden chair on a shady part of the lawn. There was a book in her lap, but she was staring abstractedly at the grass before her and her thoughts were evidently very far away. Hearing their footsteps she glanced up quickly and greeted the two with her usual quiet, rather sad smile.