Secret of Chimneys - Agatha Christie [40]
Battle examined the paper attentively.
‘Of course,’ continued Anthony, ‘the word Chimneys might have nothing whatever to do with this house. On the other hand, it might. And undoubtedly this Giuseppe was a thieving rascal. I made up my mind to motor down here last night, satisfy myself that all was as it should be, put up at the inn, and call upon Lord Caterham in the morning and put him on his guard in case some mischief should be intended during the weekend.’
‘Quite so,’ said Lord Caterham encouragingly. ‘Quite so.’
‘I was late getting here–had not allowed enough time. Consequently I stopped the car climbed over the wall and ran across the park. When I arrived on the terrace, the whole house was dark and silent. I was just turning away when I heard a shot. I fancied that it came from inside the house, and I ran back, crossed the terrace, and tried the windows. But they were fastened, and there was no sound of any kind from inside the house. I waited a while, but the whole place was as still as the grave, so I made up my mind that I had made a mistake, and that what I had heard was a stray poacher–quite natural conclusion to come to under the circumstances, I think.’
‘Quite natural,’ said Superintendent Battle expressionlessly.
‘I went on to the inn, put up as I said–and heard the news this morning. I realized, of course, that I was a suspicious character–bound to be under the circumstances, and came up here to tell my story, hoping it wasn’t going to be handcuffs for one.’
There was a pause. Colonel Melrose looked sideways at Superintendent Battle.
‘I think the story seems clear enough,’ he remarked.
‘Yes,’ said Battle. ‘I don’t think we’ll be handing out any handcuffs this morning.’
‘Any questions, Battle?’
‘There’s one thing I’d like to know. What was this manuscript?’
He looked across at George, and the latter replied with a trace of unwillingness:
‘The memoirs of the late Count Stylptitch. You see–’
‘You needn’t say anything more,’ said Battle. ‘I see perfectly.’
He turned to Anthony.
‘Do you know who it was that was shot, Mr Cade?’
‘At the Jolly Dog it was understood to be a Count Stanislaus or some such name.’
‘Tell him,’ said Battle laconically to George Lomax.
George was clearly reluctant, but he was forced to speak:
‘The gentleman who was staying here incognito as Count Stanislaus was His Highness Prince Michael of Herzoslovakia.’
Anthony whistled.
‘That must be deuced awkward,’ he remarked.
Superintendent Battle, who had been watching Anthony closely, gave a short grunt as though satisfied of something, and rose abruptly to his feet.
‘There are one or two questions I’d like to ask Mr Cade,’ he announced. ‘I’ll take him into the Council Chamber with me if I may.’
‘Certainly, certainly,’ said Lord Caterham. ‘Take him anywhere you like.’
Anthony and the detective went out together.
The body had been moved from the scene of the tragedy. There was a dark stain on the floor where it had lain, but otherwise there was nothing to suggest that a tragedy had ever occurred. The sun poured in through the three windows, flooding the room with light, and bringing out the mellow tone of the old panelling. Anthony looked around him with approval.
‘Very nice,’ he commented. ‘Nothing much to beat old England, is there?’
‘Did it seem to you at first that it was in this room the shot was fired?’ asked the superintendent, not replying to Anthony’s eulogium.
‘Let me see.’
‘Anthony opened the window and went out on the terrace, looking up at the house.
‘Yes, that’s the room all right,’ he said. ‘It’s built out, and occupies all the corner. If the shot had been fired anywhere else, it would have sounded from the left, but this was from behind me or to the right if anything. That’s why I thought of poachers. It’s at the extremity of the wing, you see.’
He stepped back across the threshold, and asked suddenly, as though the idea had