“I am truly very sorry, Miss Hanson, to cause all this bother,” he said, “but it simply can not be avoided. My temper may be at fault, but there is really no time on such occasions for niceties of conduct. As soon as I am satisfied that Dr. Jeffries can make his examination, and if it confirms Dr. Wallace’s opinion that Miss Palfreeman has been poisoned, then the house must be searched from top to bottom before anything else is done. I will have the kitchen premises dealt with first so that the maids can return to them, and then the drawing-room, so that you can use it in addition to this. Later on, when my search is completed, I shall require you all to tell me everything you can think of that might have a possible bearing on the case. That may be quite a lengthy business, and I can allow no delay for any reason whatsoever. Will you please, therefore, arrange for an early lunch and I shall hope to be ready shortly after twelve.” He made a stiff little bow, and without waiting for any reply, he left the room.
I heard him run up-stairs, and a little later a crash as the door of Stella’s room was broken in. Then he came down to the telephone, and I heard him asking for additional men to be sent from the police station. To my astonishment, I next heard him ask for the clerk in charge at the exchange, and after explaining who he was, tell her to take down in full and report immediately to him any messages that came either to or from our number until further notice. I suppose it was quite an ordinary precaution, but it brought home to me, as nothing else had, the terrible plight in which we all were.
Apparently I was the only one to overhear his message, and I went over to Ethel, who was sitting in the window-sill with writing-pad and pencil. She told me that she was writing to her father and mother, but did not know whether she ought to post it, on account of her father’s health. I felt that our letters would probably be intercepted and opened, and I told her of the conversation I had overheard.
“But it’s preposterous,” she exclaimed angrily, and it seemed to me that there was a note of alarm in her voice. “Surely he has no right to do a thing like that, and oughtn’t he to have a warrant before he searches the house?”
I explained that he could most certainly get one if The Tundish’s diagnosis proved correct, and that we should gain nothing by delaying matters or by being awkward.
She bent to her letter again, saying, “Oh, how I wish he would come back.”
Kenneth was standing against the mantelpiece talking to Ralph, and I heard him mutter gruffly, “If he ever does come back!”
Ethel gave him one angry look, but she made no reply. I could not understand Kenneth at all. Even if he did believe the doctor guilty he seemed to have nothing to gain by his behavior. He knew that The Tundish was a very old friend of Ethel, the girl to whom he had quite recently become engaged, and yet his love seemed to be of such poor stuff that he could not hide his feelings for her sake. Ralph looked pale and wretchedly ill at ease, and I could more readily have understood it had he shown ill will toward the doctor. He had fallen head over heels in love with Stella, and whether his feelings went to any depth or not, it must have been a bitter blow for him. The evidence was certainly heavy against The Tundish; it seemed to me inevitable that Ralph should feel antagonistic toward him, and I thought that in the circumstances he was showing a very creditable forbearance. With Kenneth, on the other hand, there was no apparent reason for such uncontrolled hostility, but I had overlooked the ready jealousy of a young man in love, and was yet to learn that weeks before poor Stella’s death, Ethel had already sown the seeds from which many unhappy moments grew, by singing the doctor’s praises.
Clean cut in his own opinions, he altogether failed to understand that while engaged to him, Ethel might yet have a very real affection for The Tundish. I believe that every action of hers showing loyalty to her old friendship added fire to his hot resentment. Having once decided in his own mind that the doctor was guilty, then he was a murderer and no longer a human being in need of sympathy and understanding. Kenneth’s love was overwhelmed by his jealousy, which in turn was fed by Ethel’s loyalty to her friend and his own utter inability to compromise or look at a situation through any eyes but his own. That she could distress herself over a man who in cold blood had taken the life of a young girl, a girl staying in her own home at the time, and that she could brazenly kiss such a man in front of us all, was to him proof positive that her feelings were stronger than those of friendship alone.
But in spite of his unreasonable behavior, I was truly sorry for Kenneth, though it was incomprehensible to me that he could stand aloof and frowning, while Ethel sat alone, wretched and distressed. It was bad enough for us all, but for her, with her father and mother away, it was a truly devastating experience.