“No one would commit a murder for ,000,” said Stella.
“Wouldn't they just? Don't you believe it, my girl! People commit murders for much less.”
“At that rate, I might have murdered her because she made the house unbearable.”
“I don't think so. Of course, you might have murdered uncle because he threatened to ruin Fielding, but that isn't likely either, especially now it's all off between you. It's Mother the police suspect. She was dressing when they turned up, and I interviewed them first. The Superintendent asked me a whole lot of questions—damned awkward ones! Those blasted servants must have been talking. If you think it over, you can see for yourself how suspicious things must look. You remember the row Mother had with Uncle Gregory about me going to Brazil? Well, naturally, you do: it's the only real quarrel she ever had with him, and the whole household knows of it. But as I see it, it wouldn't matter so much about that if she hadn't so suddenly stopped having a row, and gone all honey-sweet to uncle.”
“Oh, that's just Mummy!” Stella said quickly. “Partly remembering she was a Christian, and partly hoping to coax uncle. Anyone who knows Mummy would recognise that act.”
“The point is the police don't know her. Why, good Lord, even I was surprised at her giving in so soon! And apparently she told the police she never took uncle seriously over the Brazilian business, and that's an obvious lie. I don't mind betting the servants are ready to swear she was more serious than she's ever been before. And you know what she is! She always believes things happened in exactly the way she wants to think they did, and consequently she comes out with the most idiotic fibs, which a babe in arms could see through.”
“Yes, but surely the police can't think that she'd murder Aunt Harriet simply for the sake of getting this house to herself?”
Guy brought his open palm down on the table. “Don't be such a thick-headed little fool! Don't you realise that uncle left a trust of ,000 a year for the upkeep of this place? Well, as things were, not only did Aunt Harriet run the show, but £2,000 was just about enough. With Aunt Harriet dead it's a good deal more than enough! Now do you see?”
“No, I don't,” said Stella stoutly. “The money wasn't going to be given to Aunt to spend as she liked.”
“Thanks, I know exactly how it was left. The trustees have to pay the rates and taxes, and that kind of thing, but the balance is paid into the Bank quarterly, and as long as it isn't overstepped, who's to say how it shall be spent?”