“That's perfectly true,” conceded Roger, “but if you'd been broke as many times as I have you'd know that there are always ways of rubbing along somehow. You don't suppose I should go shoving my head into a noose just because I wanted some money, do you?”
“I think,” said Hannasyde, getting up, “that in common with your half-brother, you suffer from a delusion that you are clever enough to get away with anything. Therefore I judge that you are very likely to have done just that.”
“Have it your own way,” said Roger equably. “And, talking of money, I want to talk business with my cousin when you're quite finished asking me questions.”
“I have finished,” said Hannasyde. He turned. “Goodbye, Miss Vereker. I'm sorry to have interrupted your tea-party.” He nodded to Giles Carrington and walked over to the door.
“You don't understand me at all,” complained Roger. “I don't pretend to be clever. In fact, most people seem to think I'm a bit of a fool. Not that I agree with that, because I'm not a fool by any means. And while we're on the subject, it's my belief Kenneth isn't half what he's cracked up to be either. You may think he's very bright, but all I can say is -”
The door closed behind the Superintendent. Roger looked slightly pained, but quite resigned. “Gone off in a huff,” he remarked. “One of those touchy people.”
However, there were no signs of ill-humour about Hannasyde when, some hours later, he faced Giles Carrington across a dinner-table. He had accepted Giles's invitation to dinner without any hesitation, and the twinkle in his eye was clearly discernible as he remarked: “I can't make up my mind which of your cousins I would most like to convict of this murder. Are you letting that - that lunatic get his hands on the Vereker fortune?”
“What can we do?” shrugged Giles. “He's the heir all right. How does he strike you?”
“I should hate to be rude about any relative of yours,” replied Hannasyde grimly.
“Do you believe his story?”