“I will come with you,” said Halley. “Am I to be handcuffed or anything of that sort?” There was irony in his tone which was galling to Fletcher.
“Not at present,” he said sharply.
Before another word could be said there was a cry, a door was flung open, and Ena came into the room. Her eyes were blazing with anger, as she walked straight across to Halley and stood by his side.
“What was this I heard,” she said “Police! Arrest! They must be mad.”
“We shall see about that,” said Fletcher, “when your precious friend is in the Dock.”
“It is untrue,” she said. “Tell them that it is utterly false.” In spite of her complete trust in him there was a terrible lurking suspicion at the back of her mind. She knew that he was not a murderer, but the facts that had leaked out from her brother’s statement, that a struggle had taken place at the castle might mean that he had acted in self-defence, but surely not with a knife, she could not believe that he would, even in anger, deal so cowardly a blow.
Halley spoke.
“Miss Sefton,” he said, “to these police officers I would have said nothing, but since you have asked me, I can tell you that I did not commit this crime.” Fletcher gave a contemptuous laugh, which made even Sergeant Andrews look at him in reproof—it was unprofessional.
Halley continued calmly. “What is more to the point is that I can easily prove my innocence.”
Her faced cleared. “I knew there must be some terrible mistake,” she said.