‘I don’t wish to talk about it. If there is nothing else you want, perhaps you will excuse me.’
‘I don’t think Perelli kidnapped him,’ I said. ‘Has it occurred to you that your father has a very sound motive for getting rid of your husband?’
She turned swiftly. Her face had drained of colour. Fear looked at me out of her big eyes.
‘How dare you! I won’t listen to you. You have no right to come here making insinuations and asking questions. I shall complain to the police.’
She went out of the room. She was crying as she mounted the stairs.
I stood there, brooding out into the twilight. Why had she been frightened? Did she know for certain that Marshland had engineered the kidnapping?
A faint cough behind me made me turn.
Wadlock was waiting at the door.
I crossed the room, paused before him.
‘Apparently Mr. Marshland has gone off to Europe,’ I said.