‘Blood!’ The full meaning of her words dawned slowly on the man and he stared at her, half-fascinated, half-incredulous.
‘Yes. You must believe me.’ Her voice was agonized and he felt her eyes on his face. ‘I stood there staring at it,’ she went on. ‘At first I thought I was going to faint. I knew I should scream in another moment, and then – quite suddenly and noiselessly – a hand came out of the shadows and took the knife. I was so frightened I felt I was going mad. Then, just when I felt my head was bursting, the gong rang.’
Her voice died away in the silence, and she thrust something into his hand.
‘Look,’ she said, ‘if you don’t believe me. I wiped my hand with it.’
Abbershaw flashed his torch upon the little crumpled scrap in his hand. It was a handkerchief, a little filmy wisp of a thing of lawn and lace, and on it, clear and unmistakable, was a dull red smear – dry blood.
CHAPTER IV
Murder
They went slowly back to the house.
Meggie went straight up to her room, and Abbershaw joined the others in the hall.
The invalid’s corner was empty, chair and all had disappeared.
Wyatt was doing his best to relieve any feeling of constraint amongst his guests, assuring them that his uncle’s heart attacks were by no means infrequent and asking them to forget the incident if they could.