Her fingers dug into his hand. "It is true. You don't know. You weren't there. You couldn't know! I struck him with a heavy paper-weight that stood on his desk. There was a reason -'
His free hand came up quickly to cover her mouth. "Be quiet!" he said harshly. "You're demented! Helen, I order you to be quiet!" He turned his head towards Hannasyde. "My wife doesn't know what she's saying! There's not a word of truth in her story!"
"I need more than your assurance to convince me of that, Mr. North," replied Hannasyde, watching him.
"If you think she did it you must be insane!" North said. "What evidence have you? What possible grounds for suspecting her?"
"Your wife, Mr. North, was the last person to see Ernest Fletcher alive."
"Nonsense! My wife left the garden of Greystones while an unknown man was in Fletcher's study with him."
"I'm afraid you are labouring under a misapprehension," said Hannasyde. "Mrs. North, on her own confession, did not leave the garden while that man was with Ernest Fletcher."
North's eyelids flickered. "On her own confession!" he repeated. He glanced down at Helen, but her head was bowed. He led her to a chair, and pressed her gently down into it, himself taking up a position behind her, with one hand on her shoulder. Just keep quiet, Helen. I should like the facts, please, Superintendent."
"Yes, Mr. North. But I, too, should like some facts. At my previous interview with you, you informed me that you spent the evening of the 17th at your flat. I have discovered this to have been untrue. Where were you between the hours of 9.00 p.m. and 11.45 p.m.?"
"I must decline to answer that question, Superintendent."