No Wind of Blame Read online

  ‘Oh no, Inspector!’ said Peake calmly.

  The Inspector looked narrowly at him. ‘Come on, then: out with it! What other enemies had he got?’

  ‘There is Mr Steel, for one,’ answered Peake.

  ‘Do you mean Mr Steel of Oaklands Farm?’

  ‘That’s right, Inspector.’

  ‘What had he got against Mr Carter?’

  ‘It is common knowledge that Mr Steel is greatly attached to Mrs Carter.’

  ‘Do you mean he’s in love with her?’

  ‘That is the general opinion, Inspector. Mr Steel is not one to hide his feelings, and I have more than once seen him look at Mr Carter in a way which gave me quite a turn.’ He coughed behind his hand. ‘I wouldn’t want to conceal anything from you, Inspector, and I am bound to say that Mr Carter did not behave to Mrs Carter as he should. There have been some very regrettable incidents. One could not altogether blame Mr Steel for feeling as he did. We have thought lately in the servants’ hall, that matters were approaching what one might call a crisis. Mr Steel called to see Mrs Carter this morning, at a time when she was greatly upset by a quarrel with Mr Carter. When Mr Steel left, I chanced to be within earshot, and I could not but hear what he said to Miss Cliffe in the hall.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘I’m sure I don’t wish to say anything that might give you a wrong impression, Inspector. Mr Steel was in a black rage, and he told Miss Cliffe he would like to break Mr Carter’s neck.’

  ‘Did he see Mr Carter this morning?’

  ‘No, Inspector. He left the house saying he could not bring himself to sit at table with Mr Carter. He told Miss Cliffe he had been in love with Mrs Carter ever since he had first known her.’

  ‘Nice goings on in this house!’ muttered the Inspector. ‘What about this Prince? What’s he doing here?’

  ‘Prince Varasashvili,’ replied Peake, ‘is a friend of Mrs Carter. She met him at Antibes.’

  ‘Oh, one of those, is he?’ said the Inspector knowingly.

  ‘An impoverished foreign nobleman, I understand, Inspector. Very much the ladies’ man. We have noticed that Mrs Carter seems to be greatly taken with him.’

  ‘What about Mr Carter?’

  ‘Mr Carter was not in favour of the Prince’s visit. Mr Carter went so far as to say to me, when he was slightly intoxicated, that it was his belief the Prince was after his wife’s money.’

  ‘He did, did he? What about Mrs Carter’s daughter? It wouldn’t by any chance be her he’s after?’

  ‘I fancy not, Inspector.’

  ‘What kind of a girl is this Miss Fanshawe?’

  ‘Miss Vicky, Inspector, is a very unexpected young lady. One never knows what she will be at next, in a manner of speaking. She is devoted to Mrs Carter.’

  ‘And the other one?’

  ‘Miss Cliffe is a nice young lady. She was Mr Carter’s ward, and Mr Carter did tell me that he should leave all his money to her.’

  ‘Well, that wasn’t much, by all accounts.’

  ‘Mr Carter, Inspector, was expecting to come into a great deal of money. He never made any secret of that. He has a rich aunt, a very old lady, I understand, who has been confined in a private lunatic asylum for many years.’

  ‘From what I’ve seen of this house, that’s one thing that doesn’t surprise me!’ said the Inspector.

  He put one or two more questions to the butler, but soon found that Peake had told him all he knew. He requested him to summon Miss Cliffe to the morning-room, and sat digesting the information he had acquired until Mary came in.

  ‘You want to speak to me, Inspector?’

  ‘If you please, miss,’ said the Inspector, indicating a chair.

  She sat down on it. She was looking a little pale, and there was an anxious expression in her eyes which did not escape the Inspector.

  ‘Now, miss! I understand that Mr Robert Steel called here this morning to see Mrs Carter. Is that a fact?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You didn’t mention it to me before. How was that?’

  ‘I didn’t think it was important. Mr Steel is a close friend, and often drops in to see us.’

  ‘Was Mr Steel a close friend of Mr Carter’s, miss?’

  She hesitated. ‘I should call him a friend of the house.’

  ‘Is it not a fact that he is Mrs Carter’s friend?’

  ‘He is more her friend than Mr Carter’s. But he is also a friend of mine.’

  ‘We’ll let that pass, miss. Had you no reason to suppose that Mr Steel might feel more than friendly towards Mrs Carter?’

  ‘You had better ask him,’ said Mary stiffly.

  ‘I shall do so, miss, make no mistake about that! But I’m asking you now: when he was here this morning did Mr Steel give you any reason to suppose that he was feeling very un-friendly towards Mr Carter?’

  ‘Mr Steel and Mr Carter never hit it off very well,’ she replied evasively.

  ‘No, miss? Why was that?’

  ‘I don’t know. They are very different types.’

  ‘I put it to you, miss, that you know very well that Mr Steel is in love with Mrs Carter.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Mary said. ‘It wouldn’t be surprising if he were.’

  ‘My information is that Mr Steel told you this morning that he had been in love with Mrs Carter ever since he first knew her. Is that correct?’

  Though she had mistrusted Peake, she had not suspected that he had overheard her conversation with Steel. Colour rushed into her cheeks; she felt the ground sliding from under her feet; and could only answer: ‘Yes. He did say so.’

  ‘Did he also tell you that he would like to break Mr Carter’s neck?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember.’

  ‘Come, come, miss! Don’t you think you would remember if anyone had made a threat like that?’

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t a threat!’ Mary said unguardedly. ‘Mr Steel was very angry with Mr Carter for upsetting his wife, and people do say stupid things when they’re angry.’

  ‘And it didn’t seem important to you, in view of what has happened?’

  ‘No, not in the least.’

  ‘You weren’t surprised that Mr Steel should say such a thing?’

  ‘No. He has rather a quick temper—’ She broke off, aghast at her own disclosures.

  ‘He has a quick temper, has he? Perhaps he has said very much the same sort of thing before about what he’d like to do to Mr Carter?’

  ‘No, indeed he hasn’t!’

  ‘Oh? And yet you weren’t surprised when he said it today?’

  ‘No. I can’t explain, but surely you know how one says extravagant things one doesn’t really mean when one is angry?’

  The Inspector ignored this, and as he seemed to have no more questions to ask, Mary rose to her feet. ‘If that’s all—? You wanted to see Prince Varasashvili. He came back about ten minutes ago. Shall I ask him to come in here?’

  ‘Thank you, miss, if you’ll be so good.’

  The Inspector’s first view of the Prince did not predispose him in his favour. The Prince’s sleek black hair, with its ordered waves, his brilliant smile, and his accentuated waist-line, filled the Inspector, a plain man, with vague repulsion. He thought that the Prince looked just the type of good-for-nothing lizard whom you would expect to find hanging round a rich woman like Ermyntrude Carter.

  The Prince came in without hesitation, and made a gesture with his expressive hands. ‘You are the Inspector of Police? You desire to interrogate me? I understand perfectly. This terrible affair! You will forgive me that I find myself so startled, so very-much shocked, I can find no words! Ah, my poor hostess!’

  ‘Yes, indeed, sir,’ said the Inspector woodenly. ‘Very bad business. May