LITMIR.BIZ

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heart some time before midnight last night—and his body placed in your boat.”

      “But what—why … ? How could he have been?”

      “And your hat,” the Inspector remorselessly amplified, “was lying in the boat beside him. So you see,” he added, “that the first thing I had to do was to make enquiries at your house.”

      The Vicar turned on his heel abruptly. “Come into my study,” he said. “We can talk better there—I don’t suppose you want my sons, at present?” The Inspector shook his head, and followed him into a quiet, brown room with wide sash windows, the very model of what a clerical study, owned by a none too tidy cleric, should be. As he led the way in, the Vicar stumbled over something, and with a little gasp caught hold of the table for support. “You—you must excuse me,” he muttered, as he motioned the Inspector to a chair and sank into one himself. “This is—a very great shock. Now, will you tell me what I can do for you?”

      Rudge scanned him a minute before replying. Undoubtedly he had received a very great shock. He was pale; his hands were none too steady; and his breath was coming and going quickly. Whether the cause was merely the sudden impact of violent death on a sheltered clerical life, or whether there was some graver reason, the Inspector did not know enough to decide. At any rate, there was no sense in causing further alarm at the moment. So when he spoke it was in a gentle reassuring tone.

      “What I want to find out immediately, Mr. Mount, is exactly what happened last night, as far as you know it. Admiral Penistone, you say, came over to dine with his niece—what is the lady’s name, by the way?”

      “Fitzgerald—Miss Elma Fitzgerald. She is his sister’s daughter, I understand.”

      “About what age?”

      “Oh—I should say a year or two over thirty.”

      “Thank you. They arrived—when?”

      “Just before seven-thirty. In their boat.”

      “And left?”

      “Slightly after ten. I can’t fix it to the minute, I’m afraid; but they were just taking their leave when the church clock struck, and Admiral Penistone said, ‘Hurry up, I want to get back before midnight’—or something of that sort; and within a very few minutes they were gone.”

      “And you saw them off?”

      “Yes. I went down to the landing-stage with them, and Peter—that’s my eldest son—helped them to start. It’s sometimes a little awkward getting off, if the current is running strongly.”

      “Did you actually see them land?”

      “Yes. It wasn’t dark. I watched them take the boat into the Admiral’s boat-house, and then, a little later, I saw them come out of the boat-house, and go up to the house.”

      “I should have thought those trees at the back of the boat-house would have screened them from you,” said the Inspector, who had made good use of his eyes. “Or do you mean they were crossing the lawn?”

      The Vicar looked at him with respect. “No, they were in the trees,” he said. “But Miss Fitzgerald had on a white dress, and I saw it showing through them.”

      “But Admiral Penistone hadn’t a white dress?”

      “No. … I suppose,” the Vicar reflected, “that now you mention it I couldn’t say I saw the Admiral leave the boat-house—but seeing his niece I naturally concluded he was with her.”

      “Very naturally,” Rudge concurred soothingly. “And you yourself stayed out smoking until—?”

      “Twenty past ten.”

      “And then?”

      “I locked the house up and went to bed.”

      “And you heard nothing more of your neighbour?”

      “Nothing,” said the Vicar. “Nothing at all,” he repeated more loudly.

      “What about your sons? Or your servants? Would they have heard anything?”

      “I don’t think so. They had all gone to bed when I came in.”

      “Thank you. Now, Mr. Mount, can you tell me this? Did Admiral Penistone seem in his usual spirits during the evening?”

      The question appeared to distress the Vicar. “I—I don’t think I can really answer that,” he said. “You see, I haven’t known the Admiral at all long. He has only recently come to the neighbourhood. … I really hardly know him.”

      “But still,” Rudge persisted, “you might have noticed if he seemed distressed, or worried in any way. Did he?” And, seeing the Vicar still hesitated, he pressed his point. “If you did notice anything, Mr. Mount, I really think you should tell me. It’s of the highest importance that we should find out everything we can about the poor gentleman’s state of mind at the time—and I assure you I know how to be discreet.”

      “Well,” said the Vicar, fidgeting a little. “Well … it’s nothing, probably. But I should say—yes—that the Admiral was perhaps a little worried. He was not as—as amiable as usual. And he was generally a very pleasant man—not at all snappish.”

      “He was snappish with Miss Fitzgerald, perhaps?” the Inspector suggested quickly; and the Vicar blinked.

      “Oh, no … hardly … I shouldn’t say that at all.”

      “But he acted as though there was something on his mind. … I suppose you’ve no idea what it was?”

      “I think—I don’t know—it may have been his niece’s marriage. He said something about it. Nothing much.”

      “Oh, she’s getting married, is she? Who to?”

      “Somebody called Holland, Arthur Holland. From London, I think. I don’t know him.”

      “And Admiral Penistone didn’t approve?”

      “I don’t mean that. I mean, I don’t know. He didn’t say. Only he seemed as though something might have gone a little wrong. Perhaps it was to do with her settlements; she has a good deal of money, as I understand, and the Admiral is—was her trustee. But I really don’t know anything about it.”

      “I see. Had you, yourself, known Admiral Penistone long?”

      “Only since he came here, about a month ago. I called on him, you know; and we got acquainted.”

      “And you saw each other fairly often?”

      “Oh, two or three times in the week, perhaps. Not more.”

      “Ever hear him speak of any enemies—anyone who’d have a reason for killing him?”

      “Oh, no, no!” The Vicar looked shocked, but hastened to add, “Of course, I really know nothing of his life before he came here.”

      “Had he many friends? In the neighbourhood? Or outside? Where did he live before?”

      “Somewhere in the West, I believe. I don’t remember his ever telling me the district. I don’t think he knew many people about here well. Sir Wilfrid Denny, over at West End, saw most of him, I fancy. I believe he had old friends down to meet him, sometimes.”

      “Ever meet any of them yourself?”

      “Oh, no,” said the Vicar.

      “I see. Well, I think I’d better be getting over to his place now,” the Inspector said. “I’m very much obliged to you, Mr. Mount. I’ll want to have a word with your sons and your servants some time, just in case any of them noticed anything that might help us. But that can wait. By the way,” he turned at the door to add, “can you tell me what sort of a young lady Miss Fitzgerald is? Liable to—to be very upset, I mean?”

      The Vicar smiled a little, almost in spite of himself. “I shouldn’t

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