Unexpected Guest - Agatha Christie [37]
‘You locked it up?’ the inspector queried, turning sharply to her. ‘Why was that?’
Miss Bennett’s retort was equally sharp. ‘I should hardly think you’d need to ask that,’ she snapped. ‘All those guns, and ammunition as well. Highly dangerous. Everyone knows that.’
Concealing a grin, the sergeant took the key she offered him, and went to the door, pausing in the doorway to see whether the inspector wished to accompany him. Sounding distinctly annoyed at Miss Bennett’s uncalled-for comment, Inspector Thomas remarked, ‘I shall need to talk to you again, Angell,’ as he picked up his briefcase and left the room. The sergeant followed him, leaving the door open for Angell.
However, the valet did not leave the room immediately. Instead, after a nervous glance at Laura who now sat staring at the floor, he went up to Julian Farrar, and murmured, ‘About that little matter, sir. I am anxious to get something settled soon. If you could see your way, sir–’
Speaking with difficulty, Farrar answered, ‘I think–something–could be managed.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Angell responded with a faint smile on his face. ‘Thank you very much, sir.’ He went to the door and was about to leave the room when Farrar stopped him with a peremptory ‘No! Wait a moment, Angell.’
As the valet turned to face him, Farrar called loudly, ‘Inspector Thomas!’
There was a tense pause. Then, after a moment or two, the inspector appeared in the doorway, with the sergeant behind him. ‘Yes, Major Farrar?’ the inspector asked, quietly.
Resuming a pleasant, natural manner, Julian Farrar strolled across to the armchair. ‘Before you get busy with routine, Inspector,’ he remarked, ‘there is something I ought to have told you. Really, I suppose, I should have mentioned it this morning. But we were all so upset. Mrs Warwick has just informed me that there are some fingerprints that you are anxious to identify. On the table here, I think you said.’ He paused, then added, easily, ‘In all probability, Inspector, those are my fingerprints.’
There was a pause. The inspector slowly approached Farrar, and then asked quietly, but with an accusing note in his voice, ‘You were over here last night, Major Farrar?’
‘Yes,’ Farrar replied. ‘I came over, as I often do after dinner, to have a chat with Richard.’
‘And you found him–?’ the inspector prompted.
‘I found him very moody and depressed. So I didn’t stay long.’
‘At about what time was this, Major Farrar?’
Farrar thought for a moment, and then replied, ‘I really can’t remember. Perhaps ten o’clock, or ten-thirty. Thereabouts.’
The inspector regarded him steadily. ‘Can you get a little closer than that?’ he asked.
‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t,’ was Farrar’s immediate answer.
After a somewhat tense pause, the inspector asked, trying to sound casual, ‘I don’t suppose there would have been any quarrel–or bad words of any kind?’
‘No, certainly not,’ Farrar retorted indignantly. He looked at his watch. ‘I’m late,’ he observed. ‘I’ve got to take the chair at a meeting in the Town Hall. I can’t keep them waiting.’ He turned and walked towards the french windows. ‘So, if you don’t mind–’ He paused on the terrace.
‘Mustn’t keep the Town Hall waiting,’ the inspector agreed, following him. ‘But I’m sure you’ll understand, Major Farrar, that I should like a full statement from you of your movements last night. Perhaps we could do this tomorrow morning.’ He paused, and then continued, ‘You realize, of course, that there is no obligation on you to make a statement, that it is purely voluntary on your part–and that you are fully entitled to have your solicitor present, should you so wish.’
Mrs Warwick had re-entered the room. She stood in the doorway, leaving the door open, and listening to the inspector’s last few words. Julian Farrar drew in his breath as he grasped the significance of what the inspector had said. ‘I understand–perfectly,’ he said. ‘Shall we say ten o’clock tomorrow morning? And my solicitor will be present.’
Farrar made his exit along the