If he had been brutal to Ethel he was like a dog with a bone over poor Margaret, and after ten minutes or so she was white-faced too, and holding on to the edge of the table. Ralph was barely able to contain himself, but the little man almost growled at any interruption. “I will have the truth. I will have the truth!” he cried, and he paused only when he had reduced her to tears. A sigh of relief went round the table. The Tundish lighted another cigarette. I hoped that we were nearing the end, but he started off again quite pleasantly, his anger and excitement apparently having evaporated as quickly as they had arisen.
He questioned Kenneth and Ralph and then me again, and at the end of his questions, I think that there was nothing in connection with our friendship with the Hansons, or our knowledge of one another that he didn’t know.
“And now about the key of Miss Palfreeman’s bedroom,” he said, looking at the doctor, when he had satisfied himself that he could extract no more information from me. “What made you lie about it to Mr. Jeffcock?”
“I beg your pardon, I did not lie,” The Tundish replied with twinkling eyes.
“You are prepared to swear, then, that you left the door unfastened with the key in the lock?”
“I certainly left the door unlocked. I know nothing about the key.”
“And yet when Dr. Jeffries went up-stairs the door was locked and the key to it gone.”
“So I understand.”
“Some one must have locked it, you know.”
“Why, yes, certainly.”