"Peterson. I didn't think you'd ever seen him, Aunt."
"Yes, dear, I called at your flat once when you were out. Never forget faces. I'm interrupting you, Sergeant."
"That's all right, my lady," the sergeant assured her. "We arrived like I said, and this here Peterson took us into the library, where we found Mr. Fountain and Mr. Corkran. Mr. Fountain wasn't looking himself, but he wasn't put out to see the inspector. Not he. The inspector showed the warrant and said he was arresting him on a charge of attempting to murder Miss Shirley Fountain otherwise known as Brown. Fountain sort of blinked but he kept head all right. I tipped the wink to the inspector to get handcuffs on him sharp. Unfortunately the inspector wonildn't have it I knew better nor what he did, and instead of collaring Fountain and talking afterwards, he started in to tell him how the whole game was up, for all the world as though he'd discovered it himself. Regular windbag, he was. Of course when he let out about the young lady being rescued, Fountain could see the case was pretty hopeless. It's a queer thing, sir, but as soon as he heard that he give a sort of sigh like as if he was quite relieved. He said - which, surprised me that he was glad. "I never meant to do any of it," he says. "It was forced on me. I've been through hell," he says. Then he says: "I'll go with you. I'm damned glad it's over," he says - begging your pardon, my lady. Then he says: There's something I'd like to take with me," and moves towards his desk. Of course I hadn't ought to have spoken, not with the inspector there, but I couldn't help myself. "You stay where you are!" I tells him. "We'll get whatever it is you want." And I'm bothered if the inspector, just to give me a set-down, didn't tell him he could get it if it was in the room, and welcome. Told me to mind my own business and not teach him his. All in front of the two constables what's more, which he'll wish he hadn't done when it comes to the chief constable inquiring how it happened.
"Well, he lets Fountain go to his desk. Any fool could have told him what would happen. He opens a drawer and before you could say knife he'd whipped out a gun and blown his brains out."
"And Joan." said Corkran "was standing in the doorway."
"I'm sorry." said Amberley.
"So am I," Shirley said. "I know Joan Fountain hadn't anything to do with it. I didn't want her to be hurt by it all."
Well, as a matter of fact," said Anthony confidentially, "I don't think she will be, apart from this nasty little show tonight. I mean, he wasn't her full brother, and she never made any bones about the fact that they didn't get on. Bad shock, of course, and all that sort of thing, but you wait till I get her away from the manor." A thought occurred to him. "I say, I suppose the manor belongs to you now, doesn't it?"
Shirley said uncomfortably that she supposed it did. Mr. Corkran brightened considerably. "Well, that's something anyway," he said. "Never could stand the place myself. Altogether rather a good show. But I don't grasp it yet. Why were Dawsonand Collins popped off? What had they got to do with it? Come on, Sergeant! You seem to know all about it. Spill the beans!"
The sergeant said that it would come better from Mr. Amberley. Mr. Amberley, with unwonted politeness, begged him not to be so modest.