"Hold on!" interrupted Sally. "He has my vote. What he says is absolutely right."
"That is as may be," responded Hannasyde. "But he will nevertheless hold his tongue! Mrs. North, if you killed Ernest Fletcher, perhapss you will tell me what was the implement you used, and what you did with it?"
There was a brief silence. Helen's eyes travelled from one sceptical face to another. An interruption occurred, in the shape of Mr. Neville Fletcher who at that moment appeared at the open window, a cup and saucer in one hand, and a slice of toast in the other. "Don't mind me," he said, with his sweet smile. "I heard your last pregnant words, Superintendent, and I'm all agog to hear the answer. Why, there's Malachi!" He waved the piece of toast to the unresponsive Constable, and seated himself on the low window-sill. "Do go on!" he said invitingly to Helen.
Hannasyde looked consideringly at him for an instant, and then turned back to Helen. "Yes, go on, Mrs. North. What was the implement, and what did you do with it?"
"I'll tell you," Helen said breathlessly. "You've seen the - the implement. A heavy bronze paper-weight surmounted by a statuette. It was on Mr. Fletcher's desk. I caught it up, and struck him with it, several times. Then I escaped by way of the front door, as I told you. I hid the paper-weight under my cloak. When I reached home I - washed it, and later, when - when Mr. Neville Fletcher visited me, I - I gave it to him, and he restored it, as you know!"
Her eyes were fixed imploringly on Neville, who was staring at her with his mouth open. He blinked, shut his mouth, swallowed, and said faintly: "Oh, give Malachi permission to speak! He'll say it all so much better than I can. Something about one's sins finding one out. Now I don't fancy this piece of toast any more. God give me strength!"
Sally found her tongue, "Helen! You can't do that! Good Lord, you're trying to make Neville an accessary after the fact! It's too thick!"
"Thank you, darling!" said Neville brokenly. "Take this cup and saucer away from me. My hand shakes like a reed. Women!"
"Well, Mr. Fletcher?" said Hannasyde. "What have you to say to Mrs. North's accusation?"
"Don't worry!" said Neville. "Chivalry has practically no appeal for me whatsoever. It's a wicked lie. I produced the paper-weight to create a little diversion. I suppose Miss Drew told her sister about it. That's all."