"Who are your other possibles, if you don't mind my asking?"
"The valet and the butler."
Colwall seemed a little surprised. "Sturry? What makes you think he might have had a hand in it?"
"Vulgar prejudice," responded Hemingway promptly. "He handed me a very dirty look this afternoon, so very likely I'll pin the murder on to him, if all else fails."
Inspector Colwall recognised a joke, and laughed. "You do talk!" he said. "Myself, I had a hunch it was young Herriard. Ugly-tempered chap, he is."
"He's got the biggest motive," conceded Hemingway. "Though murder isn't always committed for high stakes, mind you! Not by a long chalk. There's young Roydon, wanting money to back his play."
"Yes; I went into that before you came down, but it seemed to me a bit unlikely. Of course, Miss Herriard could have done it, I suppose. I shouldn't think she'd stick at much."
"I'm quite willing to arrest her, or Mottisfont, if you'll just tell me how either of them got into the room," said Hemingway.
Colwall shook his head. "It's a mystery, that's what it is. You don't think the old lady had anything to do with it, do you?"
"What, Mrs. Joseph Herriard?" exclaimed Hemingway.