"And a good thing for Mr. Guest?"
Dinah looked at him sharply. "No, I didn't say it was a good thing for him. I don't suppose he's been left anything."
Harding sat down on the edge of the table. "Miss Fawcett, I'm going to be quite frank with you, and I have hopes that you will be frank with me. So far I've interviewed a number of people who all had the motives and the opportunity to commit this murder. Not one of them, with the possible exception of Mrs. Twining and the head-housemaid, told me the whole truth. Now, I'll ask you one or two questions, will you try and answer them honestly?"
Dinah considered the matter. "Well, I can't promise to answer them, but I won't lie, anyway, Inspector. Look here do you mind if I call you Mr. Harding?"
The Sergeant waited confidently for the official snub he knew would be dealt out.
"You can call me anything you like," said Inspector Harding, smiling down at Miss Fawcett.
The Sergeant regarded him in pained surprise, but concluded that the Inspector probably had his reason.
"Thanks," said Dinah. "What do you want me to tell you?"
Harding folded his arms across his chest, and looked meditatively at her for a few moments. "I think I'll tell you what I know first," he said.
"Why?" inquired Dinah, mystified.