“Upstairs.”
“You stay here, if you please, sir. Both of you. Don’t move.”
He threw his torch light on the upper stairs. They were half the width of the lower flight and steeper. The man ran lightly up and then disappeared. Roberta and Henry heard a door open and close, then another, and another. Then silence.
“Hell!” said Henry loudly, “I’m going…” Roberta snatched at his arm and he stopped short. Somewhere in the top floor of the house Lady Wutherwood screamed. Roberta knew at once it was she who screamed. It was the same note that had drilled through the silence of the lift well. It persisted for some seconds, intolerable and imbecilic, and then a door slammed it away into the background. Other voices sounded on the top floor. Somebody had joined them on the landing. It was the night nurse with her veil askew.
“Where’s she gone?” cried the night nurse. “I don’t accept the responsibility for this. Where’s she gone?”
On the top floor the man in the overcoat was saying: “Get back to your rooms, the lot of you. Move along now. Do what you’re told.” And a voice, Tinkerton’s: “I’m going to my lady.”
“You’re doing what you’re told. Into your rooms, now, all of you. I’ll see you later.”
“You can’t lock me out.”
“I have locked you out.Stand aside, if you please.”
The man in the overcoat came downstairs.