“Well,” she inquired dryly, “what is it, please?”
“It’s Graham,” replied Bernard. “He has confessed, Miss Mount. Now we need your help. Graham shot himself!”
“Confessed! Shot himself! You mean he’s—dead?” the woman whispered. “Oh, God! Poor Ethel!”
Bernard nodded.
“There’ll be an ambulance here at once.” He glanced at Landis and received a gesture of confirmation. “It will stop at the door at the end of the wing. Can you keep Mrs. Graham away from that part of the house? It will be less of a shock to her. She can see him—later.”
Miss Mount’s dark eyes had softened and brimmed with tears. She shook her head to clear them.
“I will,” she assured them. “I—I suppose you want me to break the news to her?”
“Perhaps you can do it more kindly than anyone else,” said Bernard in his gruffest tone. “We’re off now. And the other shadows will lift—in time.”
Miss Mount stared at him through her tears.
“So you have a heart somewhere!” she murmured huskily.