"Well, if she did do it, Sergeant, it's for us to find the proof." Harding tapped his fingers lightly on the table, considering. "It isn't a nice case," he said presently. "I think I'll see Miss Fawcett."
"Yes, sir. But she's the only person who couldn't have done it," the Sergeant pointed out respectfully. "That we do know."
"I wasn't suggesting her as a possible suspect, Sergeant. But she seemed to me, from the glimpse I had of her, to be perhaps the only person in this house who might be trusted to give a plain, unvarnished account of what happened here yesterday. Ask the butler to find her, will you?"
Miss Fawcett did not keep Inspector Harding waiting long. She appeared in about five minutes' time, and said at once in her friendliest way: "I say, have you had any tea? Do detectives drink tea? Because if so, please shout, and I'll send for some."
Harding regarded her with amusement. "Thank you very much, but detectives never have tea when on duty."
Dinah grinned. "I thought perhaps they didn't. Do you want me for anything special? I'm stiff with alibis, you know. Which," she added reflectively, "is rather a good thing, as a matter of fact, because I didn't hit it off with Arthur at all."
"Was he very unpleasant, Miss Fawcett?"
"Yes," said Dinah. "He was a stinker. To tell you the truth, I rather hope you won't find out who killed him, because it's no use being sentimental and talking a whole lot of de mortuis rot — it's a jolly good thing for everybody all round that he is dead."
"For everybody?" said Harding.
"Well, for most of us, anyway. It's a good thing for Geoffrey because now he'll be free to do as he likes without being roared at; and it's a good thing for Francis (that's Geoffrey's cousin), because I should think Arthur has left him some money; and it's a good thing for Fay because he was a loathly husband."