“What d’ye mean?” she exclaimed defiantly. “Who told me! Nobody—I’m tellin’ the truth, I am.”
“The truth,” cried Baddeley incredulously. “You aren’t on speaking terms with it. Who told you? Come on out with it. It will go all the worse with you, if you don’t.”
“I can’t tell you no more than what I ’ave,” persisted Marshall. “Seeing that corpse on the table was as big a surprise to me as it was to you. And what’s more, you ’aven’t no right to keep me ’ere.”
Baddeley shrugged his shoulders.
“In a few hours’ time you’ll wish you’d told me the truth, my girl,” he said. “Get along now, and don’t play any tricks.”
Marshall made her exit, sullen and defiant. But she was afraid of something I felt sure.
“May I use your telephone, Sir Charles? Thank you. I’ll get on to the Superintendent to send a couple more men up here. Marshall is worth watching.”
“Very well, Inspector.”
“And I won’t trouble to see Mrs. Arkwright or Miss Considine now—or the other servants. I’ll make a point of seeing them alone, later ... will that suit you, Sir Charles? ... this latest development has made a big difference. Come along, Roper.”
They bustled out. Anthony linked his arm in mine. “We’ll have a little lunch, Bill, first, and then I’m going to smoke a pipe in the garden ... there’s something hammering at my brain that I can’t properly get hold of.... I must be suffering from senile decay or something. A little good food and better drink may stimulate me. It sometimes happens.”