The Unexpected Guest Part 7

'Oh no, you didn't,' Starkwedder repeated with conviction.

Sounding frightened, Laura asked, 'Then why should I say I did?'

Starkwedder took a deep breath and then exhaled. Coming round the sofa, he threw himself down on it heavily. 'The answer to that seems pretty obvious to me. Because it was Julian Farrar who shot him,' he retorted.

'No!' Laura exclaimed, almost shouting.

'Yes!'

'No!' she repeated.

'I say yes,' he insisted.

'If it was Julian,' Laura asked him, 'why on earth should I say I did it?'

Starkwedder looked at her levelly. 'Because,' he said, 'you thought - and thought quite rightly - that I'd cover up for you. Oh yes, you were certainly right about that.' He lounged back into the sofa before continuing, 'Yes, you played me along very prettily. But I'm through, do you hear? I'm through. I'm d.a.m.ned if I'm going to tell a pack of lies to save Major Julian Farrar's skin.'

There was a pause. For a few moments Laura said nothing. Then she smiled and calmly walked over to the table by the armchair to pick up her cigarette. Turning back to Starkwedder, she said, 'Oh yes, you are! You'll have to! You can't back out now! You've told your story to the police. You can't change it.'

'What?' Starkwedder gasped, taken aback.

Laura sat in the armchair. 'Whatever you know, or think you know,' she pointed out to him, 'you've got to stick to your story. You're an accessory after the fact - you said so yourself.' She drew on her cigarette.

Starkwedder rose and faced her. Dumbfounded, he exclaimed, 'Well, I'm d.a.m.ned! You little b.i.t.c.h!' He glared at her for a few moments without saying anything further, then suddenly turned on his heel, went swiftly to the french windows, and left. Laura watched him striding across the garden. She made a movement as though to follow and call him back, but then apparently thought better of it. With a troubled look on her face, she slowly turned away from the windows.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Later that day, towards the end of the afternoon, Julian Farrar paced nervously up and down in the study. The french windows to the terrace were open, and the sun was about to set, throwing a golden light onto the lawn outside. Farrar had been summoned by Laura Warwick, who apparently needed to see him urgently. He kept glancing at his watch as he awaited her.

Farrar seemed very upset and distraught. He looked out onto the terrace, turned back into the room again, and glanced at his watch. Then, noticing a newspaper on the table by the armchair, he picked it up. It was a local paper, The Western Echo, with a news story on the front page reporting Richard Warwick's death, 'PROMINENT LOCAL RESIDENT MURDERED BY MYSTERIOUS a.s.sAILANT,' the headline announced. Farrar sat in the armchair and began nervously to read the report. After a moment, he flung the paper aside, and strode over to the french windows. With a final glance back into the room, he set off across the lawn. He was halfway across the garden, when he heard a sound behind him. Turning, he called, 'Laura, I'm sorry I -' and then stopped, disappointed, as he saw that the person coming towards him was not Laura Warwick, but Angell, the late Richard Warwick's valet and attendant.

'Mrs Warwick asked me to say she will be down in a moment, sir,' said Angell as he approached Farrar. 'But I wondered if I might have a brief word with you?'

'Yes, yes. What is it?'

Angell came up to Julian Farrar, and walked on for a pace or two further away from the house, as if anxious that their talk should not be overheard. 'Well?' said Farrar, following him.

'I am rather worried, sir,' Angell began, 'about my own position in the house, and I felt I would like to consult you on the matter.'

His mind full of his own affairs, Julian Farrar was not really interested. 'Well, what's the trouble?' he asked.

Angell thought for a moment before replying. Then, 'Mr Warwick's death, sir,' he said, 'it puts me out of a job.'

'Yes. Yes, I suppose it does,' Farrar responded. 'But I imagine you will easily get another, won't you?'

'I hope so, sir,' Angell replied.

'You're a qualified man, aren't you?' Farrar asked him.

'Oh, yes, sir. I'm qualified,' Angell replied, 'and there is always either hospital work or private work to be obtained. I know that.'

'Then what's troubling you?'

'Well, sir,' Angell told him, 'the circ.u.mstances in which this job came to an end are very distasteful to me.'

'In plain English,' Farrar remarked, 'you don't like having been mixed up with murder. Is that it?'

'You could put it that way, sir,' the valet confirmed.

'Well,' said Farrar, I'm afraid there is nothing anyone can do about that. Presumably you'll get a satisfactory reference from Mrs Warwick.' He took out his cigarette-case and opened it.

'I don't think there will be any difficulty about that, sir,' Angell responded. 'Mrs Warwick is a very nice lady - a very charming lady, if I may say so.' There was a faint insinuation in his tone.

Julian Farrar, having decided to await Laura after all, was about to go back into the house. However, he turned, struck by something in the valet's manner. 'What do you mean?' he asked quietly.

'I shouldn't like to inconvenience Mrs Warwick in any way,' Angell replied, unctuously.

Before speaking, Farrar took a cigarette from his case, and then returned the case to his pocket. 'You mean,' he said, 'you're - stopping on a bit to oblige her?'

'That is quite true, sir,' Angell affirmed. 'I am helping out in the house. But that is not exactly what I meant.' He paused, and then continued, 'It's a matter, really - of my conscience, sir.'

'What in h.e.l.l do you mean - your conscience?' Farrar asked sharply.

Angell looked uncomfortable, but his voice was quite confident as he continued, 'I don't think you quite appreciate my difficulties, sir. In the matter of giving my evidence to the police, that is. It is my duty as a citizen to a.s.sist the police in any manner possible. At the same time, I wish to remain loyal to my employers.'

Julian Farrar turned away to light his cigarette. 'You speak as though there was a conflict,' he said quietly.

'If you think about it, sir,' Angell remarked, 'you will realize that there is bound to be a conflict - a conflict of loyalties if I may so put it.'

Farrar looked directly at the valet. 'Just exactly what are you getting at, Angell?' he asked.

'The police, sir, are not in a position to appreciate the background,' Angell replied. 'The background might - I just say might - be very important in a case like this. Also, of late I have been suffering rather severely from insomnia.'

'Do your ailments have to come into this?' Farrar asked him sharply.

'Unfortunately they do, sir,' was the valet's smooth reply. 'I retired early last night, but I was unable to get to sleep.'

'I'm sorry about that,' Farrar commiserated dryly, 'but really -'

'You see, sir,' Angell continued, ignoring the interruption, 'owing to the position of my bedroom in this house, I have become aware of certain matters of which perhaps the police are not fully cognizant.'

'Just what are you trying to say?' Farrar asked, coldly.

'The late Mr Warwick, sir,' Angell replied, 'was a sick man and a cripple. It's really only to be expected under those sad circ.u.mstances that an attractive lady like Mrs Warwick might - how shall I put it? - form an attachment elsewhere.'

'So that's it, is it?' said Farrar. 'I don't think I like your tone, Angell.'

'No, sir,' Angell murmured. 'But please don't be too precipitate in your judgement. Just think it over, sir. You will perhaps realize my difficulty. Here I am, in possession of knowledge which I have not, so far, communicated to the police - but knowledge which, perhaps, it is my duty to communicate to them.'

Julian Farrar stared at Angell coldly. 'I think,' he said, 'that this story of going to the police with your information is all ballyhoo. What you're really doing is suggesting that you're in a position to stir up dirt unless -' he paused, and then completed his sentence: '- unless what?'

Angell shrugged his shoulders. 'I am, of course, as you have just pointed out,' he observed, 'a fully qualified nurse-attendant. But there are times, Major Farrar, when I feel I would like to set up on my own. A small - not a nursing-home, exactly - but an establishment where I could take on perhaps five or six patients. With an a.s.sistant, of course. The patients would probably include gentlemen who are alcoholically difficult to manage at home. That sort of thing. Unfortunately, although I have acc.u.mulated a certain amount of savings, they are not enough. I wondered -' His voice trailed off suggestively.

Julian Farrar completed his thought for him. 'You wondered,' he said, 'if I - or I and Mrs Warwick together - could come to your a.s.sistance in this project, no doubt.'

'I just wondered, sir,' Angell replied meekly. 'It would be a great kindness on your part.'

'Yes, it would, wouldn't it?' Farrar observed sarcastically.

'You suggested rather harshly,' Angell went on, 'that I'm threatening to stir up dirt. Meaning, I take it, scandal. But it's not that at all, sir. I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing.'

'What exactly is it you are driving at, Angell?' Farrar sounded as though he were beginning to lose his patience. 'You're certainly driving at something.'

Angell gave a self-deprecating smile before replying. Then he spoke quietly but with emphasis. 'As I say, sir, last night I couldn't sleep very well. I was lying awake, listening to the booming of the foghorn. An extremely depressing sound I always find it, sir. Then it seemed to me that I heard a shutter banging. A very irritating noise when you're trying to get to sleep. I got up and leaned out of my window. It seemed to be the shutter of the pantry window, almost immediately below me.'

'Well?' asked Farrar, sharply.

'I decided, sir, to go down and attend to the shutter,' Angell continued. 'As I was on my way downstairs, I heard a shot.' He paused briefly. 'I didn't think anything of it at the time. "Mr Warwick at it again," I thought. "But surely he can't see what he's shooting at in a mist like this." I went to the pantry, sir, and fastened back the shutter securely.

But, as I was standing there, feeling a bit uneasy for some reason, I heard footsteps coming along the path outside the window -'

'You mean,' Farrar interrupted, 'the path that -' His eyes went towards it.

'Yes, sir,' Angell agreed. 'The path that leads from the terrace, around the corner of the house, that way - past the domestic offices. A path that's not used very much, except of course by you, sir, when you come over here, seeing as it's a short cut from your house to this one.'

He stopped speaking, and looked intently at Julian Farrar, who merely said icily, 'Go on.'

'I was feeling, as I said, a bit uneasy,' Angell continued, 'thinking there might be a prowler about. I can't tell you how relieved I was, sir, to sec you pa.s.s the pantry window, walking quickly - hurrying on your way back home.'

After a pause, Farrar said, 'I can't really see any point in what you're telling me. Is there supposed to be one?'

With an apologetic cough, Angell answered him. 'I just wondered, sir, whether you have mentioned to the police that you came over here last night to see Mr Warwick. In case you have not done so, and supposing that they should question me further as to the events of last night -'

Farrar interrupted him. 'You do realize, don't you,' he asked tersely, 'that the penalty for blackmail is severe?'

'Blackmail, sir?' responded Angell, sounding shocked. 'I don't know what you mean. It's just a question, as I said, of deciding where my duty lies. The police - '

'The police,' Farrar interrupted him sharply, 'are perfectly satisfied as to who killed Mr Warwick. The fellow practically signed his name to the crime. They're not likely to come asking you any more questions.'

'I a.s.sure you, sir,' Angell interjected, with alarm in his voice, 'I only meant -'

'You know perfectly well,' Farrar interrupted again, 'that you couldn't have recognized anybody in that thick fog last night. You've simply invented this story in order to -' He broke off, as he saw Laura Warwick emerging from the house into the garden.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

'I'm sorry I've kept you waiting, Julian,' Laura called as she approached them. She looked surprised to see Angell and Julian Farrar apparently in conversation.

'Perhaps I may speak to you later, sir, about this little matter,' the valet murmured to Farrar. He moved away, half bowing to Laura, then walked quickly across the garden and around a corner of the house.

Laura watched him go, and then spoke urgently. 'Julian,' she said, 'I must -'

Farrar interrupted her. 'Why did you send for me, Laura?' he asked, sounding annoyed.

'I've been expecting you all day,' Laura replied, surprised.

'Well, I've been up to my ears ever since this morning,' Farrar exclaimed. 'Committees, and more meetings this afternoon. I can't just drop any of these things so soon before the election. And in any case, don't you see, Laura, that it's much better that we shouldn't meet at present?'

'But there are things we've got to discuss,' Laura told him.

Taking her arm briefly, Farrar led her further away from the house. 'Do you know that Angell is setting out to blackmail me?' he asked her.

'Angell?' cried Laura, incredulously. 'Angell is?'

'Yes. He obviously knows about us - and he also knows, or at any rate pretends to know, that I was here last night.'

Laura gasped. 'Do you mean he saw you?'

'He says he saw me,' Farrar retorted.

'But he couldn't have seen you in that fog,' Laura insisted.

'He's got some story,' Farrar told her, 'about coming down to the pantry and doing something to the shutter outside the window, and seeing me pa.s.s on my way home. He also says he heard a shot, not long before that, but didn't think anything of it.'

'Oh my G.o.d!' Laura gasped. 'How awful! What are we going to do?'

Farrar made an involuntary gesture as though he were about to comfort Laura with an embrace, but then, glancing towards the house, thought better of it. He gazed at her steadily. 'I don't know yet what we're going to do,' he told her. 'We'll have to think.'

'You're not going to pay him, surely?'

'No, no,' Farrar a.s.sured her. 'If one starts doing that, it's the beginning of the end. And yet, what is one to do?' He pa.s.sed a hand across his brow. 'I didn't think anyone knew I came over yesterday evening,' he continued. 'I'm certain my housekeeper didn't. The point is, did Angell really see me, or is he pretending he did?'

'Supposing he does go to the police?' Laura asked, tremulously.

'I know,' murmured Farrar. Again, he ran his hand across his brow. 'One's got to think - think carefully.' He began to walk to and fro. 'Either bluff it out - say he's lying, that I never left home yesterday evening -'

'But there are the fingerprints,' Laura told him.