party. By this time, no doubt, the twins will have told their parents about the carpet party and that we have spotted it. That’s all they seemed to have said about the interview between the brothers. You’d better have another go at the servants, Br’er Fox.’
‘I don’t think the butler would give anything away, sir. He’s a quiet old chap and seems to like the family. If that parlour-maid overheard anything, she might be persuaded to speak up.’
‘Go and have a word with her. Use your charm. And in the meantime, Fox, I’ll deal with Master Henry.’
So Fox went off to the kitchen and the constable fetched Henry. Alleyn came straight to the point with Henry, asking him whether his uncle had promised to lend his father a sum of money. Henry instantly said that he had.
‘So the financial crisis was over?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why did none of you tell me of this before?’
‘Why should we?’ asked Henry coolly. ‘It didn’t arise.’
‘The question of the guilt or innocence of every single one of you arises,’ said Alleyn. ‘As you no doubt realize, Lady Katherine has told us of your financial difficulties. Lord Charles has told us that there is a baliff in the flat. People do not murder a man who is on the point of rescuing them from bankruptcy.’
‘Well,’ said Henry, ‘we didn’t murder Uncle G.’
‘Who, in your opinion, did murder him?’
‘I’ve no opinion about it.’
‘You don’t share your mother’s conviction of Lady Wutherwood’s homicidal insanity?’
‘Does my mother feel convinced about that?’
‘She told me so.’ Henry said nothing. ‘In plain words,’ said Alleyn, ‘do you think Lady Wutherwood is insane and killed her husband?’
‘I don’t see how one can possibly know,’ said Henry slowly. ‘I think she’s mad.’
‘That’s an honest speech,’ said Alleyn unexpectedly. Henry looked up quickly. ‘I think she’s mad, too,’ Alleyn said, ‘but like you I don’t know if she killed her husband. I wonder if we hesitate for the same reason. It seems strange to me that a woman who murdered her husband should demand his body.’
‘I know,’ said Henry quickly, ‘but if she’s mad –?’
‘There’s always that, of course. But to me it doesn’t quite fit. Nor to you, I think?’
‘To me,’ said Henry impatiently, ‘nothing fits. The whole thing’s a nightmare. I know none of us did it and that’s all I do know. I can’t think either of their servants are murderers. Giggle’s been with them since he was a kid. He’s a mild stupid man and plays with trains with Mike. Tinkerton is objectionable on the general grounds that she’s got a face like a dead flounder and smells of hair-combings. Perhaps she
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