Miss Hyslop turned towards the door. She had the air of a person who had been entirely misunderstood.
“I wrote you out of kindness, Sir Timothy,” she said in an aggrieved manner. “I shall have nothing more to say on the matter—to you, at any rate.”
Sir Timothy sighed.
“You see,” he said, turning to the others, “I have lost my chance of conciliating a witness. My cheque-book remains locked up and she has gone over to your side.”
She turned around suddenly.
“You know that you made Bobby Fairfax kill Victor!” she almost shouted.
Sir Timothy smiled in triumph.
“My dear young lady,” he begged, “let us now be friends again. I desired to know your trump card. For that reason I fear that I have been a little brutal. Now please don't hurry away. You have shot your bolt. Already Mr. Shopland is turning the thing over in his mind. Was I lurking outside that night, Mr. Shopland, to guide that young man's flabby arm? He scarcely seemed man enough for a murderer, did he, when he sat quaking on that stool in Soto's Bar while Mr. Ledsam tortured him? I beg you again not to hurry, Miss Hyslop. At any rate wait while my servants fetch you a taxi. It was clouding over when I came in. We may even have a thunderstorm.”
“I want to get out of this house,” Daisy Hyslop declared. “I think you are all horrible. Mr. Ledsam did behave like a gentleman when he came to see me, and Mr. Shopland asked questions civilly. But you—” she added, turning round to Sir Timothy.
“Hush, my dear,” he interrupted, holding out his hand. “Don't abuse me. I am not angry with you—not in the least—and I am going to prove it. I shall oppose any search warrant which you might apply for, Mr. Shopland, and I think I can oppose it with success. But I invite you two, Miss Hyslop and Mr. Ledsam, to my party on Thursday night. Once under my roof you shall have carte blanche. You can wander where you please, knock the walls for secret hiding-places, stamp upon the floor for oubliettes. Upstairs or down, the cellars and the lofts, the grounds and the park, the whole of my domain is for you from midnight on Thursday until four o'clock. What do you say, Mr. Shopland? Does my offer satisfy you?”