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Page 82
"I refer to Miss Val Beverley," the police-court voice proceeded. "This
lady had evidently not retired, and neither, it would appear, had the
Colonel."
"Neither had I," murmured Harley, "and neither had Mr. Knox."
"Your reason I understand," said the Inspector, "or at least your
explanation is a possible one. But if the party broke up, as you say it
did, somewhere about half-past ten o'clock, and if Madame de St�mer had
gone to bed, why should Miss Beverley have remained up?" He paused
significantly. "As well as Colonel Menendez?" he added.
"Look here, Inspector Aylesbury," I interrupted, I speaking in a very
quiet tone, I remember, "your insinuations annoy me."
"Oh," said he, turning his prominent eyes in my direction, "I see. They
annoy you? If they annoy you, sir, perhaps you can explain this point
which is puzzling me?"
"I cannot explain it, but doubtless Miss Beverley can do so when you
ask her."
"I should like to have asked her now, and I can't make out why she
refuses to see me."
"She has not refused to see you," replied Harley, smoothly. "She is
probably unaware of the fact that you wish to see her."
"I don't know so much," muttered the Inspector. "In my opinion I am
being deliberately baffled on all sides. You can throw no light on this
matter, then?"
"None," I answered, shortly, and Paul Harley shook his head.
"But you must remember, Inspector," he explained, "that the entire
household was in a state of unrest."
"In other words, everybody was waiting for this very thing to happen?"
"Consciously, or subconsciously, everybody was."
"What do you mean by consciously or subconsciously?"
"I mean that those of us who were aware of the previous attempts on
the life of the Colonel apprehended this danger. And I believe that
something of this apprehension had extended even to the servants."
"Oh, to the servants? Now, I have seen all the servants, except the
chef, who lives at a house on the outskirts of Mid-Hatton, as you may
know. Can you give me any information about this man?"
"I have seen him," replied Harley, "and have congratulated him upon his
culinary art. His name, I believe, is Deronne. He is a Spaniard, and a
little fat man. Quite an amiable creature," he added.
"Hm." The Inspector cleared his throat noisily.
"If that is all," said Harley, "I should welcome an opportunity of a
few hours' sleep."
"Oh," said the Inspector. "Well, I suppose that is quite natural, but I
shall probably have a lot more questions to ask you later."
"Quite," muttered Harley, "quite. Come on, Knox. Good-night, Inspector
Aylesbury."
"Good-night."
Harley walked out of the dining room and across the deserted hall. He
slowly mounted the stairs and I followed him into his room. It was now
quite light, and as my friend dropped down upon the bed I thought that
he looked very tired and haggard.
"Knox," he said, "shut the door."
I closed the door and turned to him.
"You heard that question about Miss Beverley?" I began.
"I heard it, and I am wondering what her answer will be when the
Inspector puts it to her personally."
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