“Of course, if salted almonds are more important to you than my -”
“No, but I distinctly remember getting some,” said Antonia. “And if we've got some, it seems a pity - However, it doesn't really matter. Go on about the forgery.”
“There is no forgery. Though God knows I've been through such a hell of anxiety about money that it's a wonder I'm not a forger!”
“Bad luck!” said Antonia, with polite but damping sympathy.
Mesurier said in a more natural voice: “They've found out something. Not that it can harm me. What I mean is, it doesn't prove I murdered Arnold, though it naturally makes the police suspicious. I - you see Tony, I've been in a devil of a jam. Had to raise some cash somehow or other, and raise it quick, so I — sort of borrowed a spot from the firm - Arnold's firm, you know. Of course, I need hardly tell you it was nothing but a loan, to tide me over, and as a matter of fact I've been steadily paying it back. You do understand, don't you, darling?”
“Yes, absolutely,” replied Antonia. “You cooked the accounts and Arnold found out. I've often wondered how that's done, by the way. How do you do it, Rudolph?”
He flushed. “Please — ! It - this isn't very pleasant for me, Tony. I ought not to have done it, but I thought I could pay it all back before the next audit. I never dreamed Arnold had his eye on me. Then he sprang it on me — actually on Saturday morning. He was filthily offensive - you know what he could be like! We - we had a bit of a row, and he threatened to take the whole thing into court, largely, I'm afraid, because you'd told him of our engagement, darling. Not that I'm blaming you, but it was rather unfortunate, all things considered. And the devil of it is that we were heard - well - quarrelling - by that foul Miller girl, and, of course, she pitched in a highly exaggerated story to the Superintendent. And on top of that -” He paused, and studied his well-manicured nails for a moment, a pucker between his brows. “The most extraordinary thing,” he said slowly. “I confess I don't understand it. Some idiot of a village Constable imagines he saw my car ten miles from Hanborough on Saturday night. It's utterly absurd, of course, but you can see what an ugly complexion it puts on things.”
She sat up suddenly. “Rudolph, how did you know which day Arnold was murdered?”
He blinked at her. “I don't understand what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. On Sunday, when you came here for supper, you said you'd quarrelled with Arnold on the very day he was murdered.”