None of us spoke a word. The detective was deep in thought. He was half-seated on the arm of one of the two heavy armchairs that stood at either side of the fireplace. Margaret and Ralph were leaning against the mantelpiece, which is backed by a long, low looking-glass framed in oak. She was half-turned toward it and I could see her full face reflection as I stood against the door. Kenneth stood by the table. Ethel was still in the window-seat a little way behind him. The Tundish seemed the least disturbed of any of us and was obviously enjoying his cigarette. The bee, which was still buzzing behind the blind, escaped from its trap, and the sudden cessation of its hum somehow marked a period and plunged us into silence.
At last the detective spoke, “And the key was found——” He spoke with a slow emphasis, turning toward The Tundish, and tilting his chair. Then he stood up suddenly, his sentence incomplete, and his chair righted itself with a bang, that came like a blow to our straining nerves.
Margaret uttered a little startled cry, and he was immediately profuse with redundant apology. He seemed to have forgotten all about the key. At one moment he had us all tense with excitement as though we were waiting a verdict, and the next he could find nothing better to do than talk about his own clumsiness in partly overturning a chair. I could not understand him at all and I saw an amused smile play across the doctor’s face as he repeated, “And the key was found——”
“Oh, I don’t think that matters very much for the moment,” was the amazing reply. “That can all be gone into later. Please don’t divert me from the proposition I was about to put before you.
“Miss Palfreeman has been poisoned without the least shadow of doubt. Suicide—put that idea right out of your minds. It—is—murder. My first duty is to secure the murderer, and it must be obvious to you all that the facts, as we know them at present, point very definitely indeed to Dr. Wallace. I think that even he will agree with me that that is not an exaggerated statement.”
The Tundish nodded his head and murmured, “Quite so,” with an air I can only describe as one of pleasant acquiescence, and the little man proceeded with his harangue.
“On the other hand, a very long experience has taught me that these definite first impressions are often quite misleading. Either owing to a chain of unfortunate coincidences, or by the design of some one else, suspicion fastens on the innocent. That may seem a banal statement to make but it is a possibility that is often overlooked. In this case, already there are apparent several pieces of conflicting evidence, which it will take time and further investigation to appraise at their proper value. One clue—which I am not going to specify—distinctly indicates that the murder may have been committed by some one quite outside your house-party here. I propose to follow that up immediately myself, and it will mean that I may have to be away for a day or two. I don’t want to raise any false hopes, however, and I may as well tell you quite candidly that my opinion, formed on the balance of the facts, is that the murderer is listening to me now.”
He paused impressively. Ethel half stifled a sob.
“Now, here are my proposals to you,” he continued. “Either I must arrest Dr. Wallace at once on suspicion, and your statements as to the events of last night must be taken down in the usual way, or alternatively, you must all promise to obey my instructions to the letter, however absurd and unreasonable they may seem to you to be. Among other things I shall want your promise that you will none of you leave the house.”
Saying that he had one or two things to attend to which would take him about half an hour, and that it would give us a convenient opportunity for making our decision, he gave us a stiff little bow and left the room.