Sparkling Cyanide - Agatha Christie [58]
He turned to Stephen Farraday:
‘By the way, Mr Farraday, there are one or two small points where I think you could help me. No need to trouble Lady Alexandra. If you will give me a ring at the Yard, we can settle a time that will suit you. You are, I know, a busy man.’
It was pleasantly said, with an air of casualness, but on three pairs of ears the words fell with deliberate meaning.
With an air of friendly co-operation Stephen managed to say:
‘Certainly, chief inspector.’ Then he looked at his watch and murmured: ‘I must go along to the House.’
When Stephen had hurried off, and the chief inspector had likewise departed, Lord Kidderminster turned to his daughter and asked a question with no beating about the bush.
‘Had Stephen been having an affair with that woman?’
There was a split second of a pause before his daughter answered.
‘Of course not. I should have known it if he had. And anyway, Stephen’s not that kind.’
‘Now, look here, my dear, no good laying your ears back and digging your hoofs in. These things are bound to come out. We want to know where we are in this business.’
‘Rosemary Barton was a friend of that man, Anthony Browne. They went about everywhere together.’
‘Well,’ said Lord Kidderminster slowly. ‘You should know.’
He did not believe his daughter. His face, as he went slowly out of the room, was grey and perplexed. He went upstairs to his wife’s sitting-room. He had vetoed her presence in the library, knowing too well that her arrogant methods were apt to arouse antagonism and at this juncture he felt it vital that relations with the official police should be harmonious.
‘Well?’ said Lady Kidderminster. ‘How did it go off?’
‘Quite well on the face of it,’ said Lord Kidderminster slowly. ‘Kemp is a courteous fellow—very pleasant in his manner—he handled the whole thing with tact—just a little too much tact for my fancy.’
‘It’s serious, then?’
‘Yes, it’s serious. We should never have let Sandra marry that fellow, Vicky.’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Yes—yes…’ He acknowledged her claim. ‘You were right—and I was wrong. But, mind you, she would have had him anyway. You can’t turn Sandra when her mind is fixed on a thing. Her meeting Farraday was a disaster—a man of whose antecedents and ancestors we know nothing. When a crisis comes how does one know how a man like that will react?’
‘I see,’ said Lady Kidderminster. ‘You think we’ve taken a murderer into the family?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t want to condemn the fellow off-hand—but it’s what the police think—and they’re pretty shrewd. He had an affair with this Barton woman—that’s plain enough. Either she committed suicide on his account, or else he—Well, whatever happened, Barton got wise to it and was heading for an exposé and scandal. I suppose Stephen simply couldn’t take it—and—’
‘Poisoned him?’
‘Yes.’
Lady Kidderminster shook her head.
‘I don’t agree with you.’
‘I hope you’re right. But somebody poisoned him.’
‘If you ask me,’ said Lady Kidderminster, ‘Stephen simply wouldn’t have the nerve to do a thing like that.’
‘He’s in deadly earnest about his career—he’s got great gifts, you know, and the makings of a true statesman. You can’t say what anyone will do when they’re forced into a corner.’
His wife still shook her head.
‘I still say he hasn’t got the nerve. You want someone who’s a gambler and capable of being reckless. I’m afraid, William, I’m horribly afraid.’
He stared at her. ‘Are you suggesting that Sandra—Sandra—?’
‘I hate even to suggest such a thing—but it’s no use being cowardly and refusing to face possibilities. She’s besotted about that man—she always has been—and there’s a queer streak in Sandra. I’ve never really understood her—but I’ve always been afraid for her. She’d risk anything—anything—for Stephen. Without counting the cost. And if she’s been mad enough and wicked enough to do this thing, she’s got to be protected.’
‘Protected? What do you mean—protected?’
‘By you. We’ve