Read Online A Blunt Instrument by Georgette Heyer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Georgette Heyer
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dinner?"
"After dinner I returned to the flat, and went to bed."
"You were alone there? Or are there any servants?"
"Oh, I was quite alone! It is a service flat, and I had given my valet leave to go out for the evening. I'm afraid I cannot - at the moment - bring forward any corroborative evidence, Superintendent. Perhaps you would like to take my finger-prints?"
"No, not at present, thank you," returned Hannasyde. "In fact, I hardly think I need detain you any longer."
North walked over to the door. "Well, you know where you can find me if you should want to ask me any further questions. My business and flat addresses are both in the London Telephone Directory."
He led the way into the hall, and across it to the front door. A pale grey Homburg lay on the gate-leg table, beside a pair of wash-leather gloves. Hannasyde's eyes rested on it for a moment, but he made no comment, merely picking up his own hat from the chair whereon he had laid it.
Having seen him off the premises, North returned unhurriedly to the morning-room, entering it in time to hear his sister-in-law say trenchantly: "You must be suffering from mental paralysis! You can't possibly hope to keep it from -'
She saw who was coming into the room, and snapped the sentence off in mid-air. North closed the door, tossed the newspaper he was still carrying on to the table, and said suavely: "What can't she possibly hope to keep from me?"
"Did I say from you?" demanded Sally.
"It was sufficiently obvious." He began methodically to fill a pipe. An uncomfortable silence fell. Helen was sitting with her gaze fixed on North's face, and her hands tightly clasped in her lap. As he restored his pouch to his pocket he raised his eyes, and for a moment looked steadily into hers. "Well? Isn't it so?"
She evaded the question. "What brought you home so unexpectedly, John?"
"Does that really interest you?" he inquired.
She said in a low, unsteady voice: "You came back to spy on me!"
A hard look came into his face. He said nothing, however, but felt in his pocket for matches, and began to light his pipe.
A less intense note was introduced by Miss Drew, who said brightly: "Would you by any chance like me to withdraw tactfully? I should hate to think I was cramping either of your styles."
"No, don't go!" Helen said. John and I have nothing private to discuss." She glanced up at North, and added with an attempt at nonchalance: "It would be interesting to know why you elected to come home in the middle of the morning. You can't have felt an overwhelming desire for my company, or you'd have come last night."
"No," he replied imperturbably. "We are rather beyond that, aren't we? I came when I read about Fletcher's murder."
"There! What did I tell you?" said Sally. "The answer to the maiden's prayer! Not that I'm fond of the protective type myself, but I should be if I were a pretty ninny like you, Helen."
"Oh, don't be absurd!" Helen said, a catch in her voice. "So you thought I might be mixed up in the murder, did you, John?"
He did not answer for a moment, but after a pause he said in his cool way: "No, I don't think I suspected that seriously until I found a Superintendent from Scotland Yard in the house."
She stiffened. "Surely you understand the reason for that! He came simply -'
"Yes, I understood." For the first time a harsh note sounded in his voice. "The Superintendent came to discover whether the woman's footprint in the garden was yours. Was it?"
"Count ten before you answer," recommended Sally, her eyes on North's grim face. Golly, she thought, this isn't going to be such plain sailing as I'd imagined.
"Oh, why can't you be quiet?" Helen cried sharply. "What are you trying to do?"
"Stop you telling useless lies. You may be all washedup, you two, but I don't see John letting you get pinched for murder if he can help it."
"I didn't murder him! I didn't! You can't think that!"
"Were the footprints yours?" North asked.
She got up jerkily. "Yes! They were
"After dinner I returned to the flat, and went to bed."
"You were alone there? Or are there any servants?"
"Oh, I was quite alone! It is a service flat, and I had given my valet leave to go out for the evening. I'm afraid I cannot - at the moment - bring forward any corroborative evidence, Superintendent. Perhaps you would like to take my finger-prints?"
"No, not at present, thank you," returned Hannasyde. "In fact, I hardly think I need detain you any longer."
North walked over to the door. "Well, you know where you can find me if you should want to ask me any further questions. My business and flat addresses are both in the London Telephone Directory."
He led the way into the hall, and across it to the front door. A pale grey Homburg lay on the gate-leg table, beside a pair of wash-leather gloves. Hannasyde's eyes rested on it for a moment, but he made no comment, merely picking up his own hat from the chair whereon he had laid it.
Having seen him off the premises, North returned unhurriedly to the morning-room, entering it in time to hear his sister-in-law say trenchantly: "You must be suffering from mental paralysis! You can't possibly hope to keep it from -'
She saw who was coming into the room, and snapped the sentence off in mid-air. North closed the door, tossed the newspaper he was still carrying on to the table, and said suavely: "What can't she possibly hope to keep from me?"
"Did I say from you?" demanded Sally.
"It was sufficiently obvious." He began methodically to fill a pipe. An uncomfortable silence fell. Helen was sitting with her gaze fixed on North's face, and her hands tightly clasped in her lap. As he restored his pouch to his pocket he raised his eyes, and for a moment looked steadily into hers. "Well? Isn't it so?"
She evaded the question. "What brought you home so unexpectedly, John?"
"Does that really interest you?" he inquired.
She said in a low, unsteady voice: "You came back to spy on me!"
A hard look came into his face. He said nothing, however, but felt in his pocket for matches, and began to light his pipe.
A less intense note was introduced by Miss Drew, who said brightly: "Would you by any chance like me to withdraw tactfully? I should hate to think I was cramping either of your styles."
"No, don't go!" Helen said. John and I have nothing private to discuss." She glanced up at North, and added with an attempt at nonchalance: "It would be interesting to know why you elected to come home in the middle of the morning. You can't have felt an overwhelming desire for my company, or you'd have come last night."
"No," he replied imperturbably. "We are rather beyond that, aren't we? I came when I read about Fletcher's murder."
"There! What did I tell you?" said Sally. "The answer to the maiden's prayer! Not that I'm fond of the protective type myself, but I should be if I were a pretty ninny like you, Helen."
"Oh, don't be absurd!" Helen said, a catch in her voice. "So you thought I might be mixed up in the murder, did you, John?"
He did not answer for a moment, but after a pause he said in his cool way: "No, I don't think I suspected that seriously until I found a Superintendent from Scotland Yard in the house."
She stiffened. "Surely you understand the reason for that! He came simply -'
"Yes, I understood." For the first time a harsh note sounded in his voice. "The Superintendent came to discover whether the woman's footprint in the garden was yours. Was it?"
"Count ten before you answer," recommended Sally, her eyes on North's grim face. Golly, she thought, this isn't going to be such plain sailing as I'd imagined.
"Oh, why can't you be quiet?" Helen cried sharply. "What are you trying to do?"
"Stop you telling useless lies. You may be all washedup, you two, but I don't see John letting you get pinched for murder if he can help it."
"I didn't murder him! I didn't! You can't think that!"
"Were the footprints yours?" North asked.
She got up jerkily. "Yes! They were
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