Masters took a deep breath. "You needn't be surprised to hear, Miss, that among Mr. Rainger's other remarks was an accusation of murder. Now, now! Steady, Miss. Fine lot of witnesses. Rainger's case, a matter of snowfall, rests on Mr. Bohun's arriving back here half an hour before the snow stopped. But if we only knew what time he did get back…"
A pewter dish-cover rattled on the sideboard. Somebody coughed.
"Excuse me, sir," said Thompson's voice. "May I speak?" His expression was worried but determined; he seemed less hostile towards Masters.
"I know I shouldn't be here," he said. "I hear things. But I've been in this house for a long time, and they let me. I can tell you positively the time Mr. John came home last night; and my wife was awake too, and she'll tell you the same thing."
"Well?"
"He returned at a little past three o'clock, sir. At just the time he told you he did. Tempest was barking because of something else."
CHAPTER TEN
How a Dead Man Spoke on the Phone
"I wish you had asked me that before," Thompson continued. He sucked in on his stiff swollen jaw. "I can swear to it. My room, and my wife's, are on that side of the house, but," he nodded, "higher up. Under the eaves. I heard the car come in about five or ten minutes past three. I was going down to. help him out with his bags, and see if he wanted anything, sir. But I — my wife said — well, that I should only get more cold in," he touched his jaw, "this. I thought if he wanted me he would ring. When Mr. Maurice said I could go to bed, I'd already turned on the light in Mr. John's room and left sandwiches and whisky. But then at half-past one Mr. Maurice called me out of bed again, to ask me to telephone to the stables and have them lock up Tempest… "
"He would not," said Masters curtly, "he would not telephone himself, then?"