Michael?”
Michael Shane did not reply and Rosamund with every appearance of enjoyment said:
“Two murders one after another. It's almost too much, isn't it?”
“Don't be a fool, Rosamund, your Uncle Richard wasn't murdered.”
“Well, Cora thought he was.”
Mr Entwhistle intervened to ask:
“You came back to London after the funeral, didn't you?”
“Yes, we came by the same train as you did.”
“Of course... of course. I ask because I tried to get hold of you,” he shot a quick glance at the telephone - “on the following day - several times in fact, and couldn't get an answer.”
“Oh dear - I'm so sorry. What were we doing that day? The day before yesterday. We were here until about twelve, weren't we? And then you went round to try and get hold of Rosenheim and you went on to lunch with Oscar and I went out to see if I could get some nylons and round the shops. I was to meet Janet but we missed each other. Yes, I had a lovely afternoon shopping - and then we dined at the Castile. We got back here about ten o'clock, I suppose.”
“About that,” said Michael. He was looking thoughtfully at Mr Entwhistle. “What did you want to get hold of us for, sir?”
“Oh! Just some points that had arisen about Richard Abernethie's estate - papers to sign - all that.”
Rosamund asked: “Do we get the money now, or not for ages?”
“I'm afraid,” said Mr Entwhistle, “that the law is prone to delays.”
“But we can get an advance, can't we?” Rosamund looked alarmed. “Michael said we could. Actually it's terribly important. Because of the play.”
Michael said pleasantly:
“Oh, there's no real hurry. It's just a question of deciding whether or not to take up the option.”
“It will be quite easy to advance you some money,” said Mr Entwhistle. “As much as you need.”
“Then that's all right.” Rosamund gave a sigh of relief. She added as an afterthought: “Did Aunt Cora leave any money?”
“A little. She left it to your Cousin Susan.”
“Why Susan, I should like to know! Is it much?”
“A few hundred pounds and some furniture.”
“Nice furniture?”
“No,” said Mr Entwhistle.
Rosamund lost interest. “It's all very odd, isn't it?” she said. “There was Cora, after the funeral, suddenly coming out with 'He was murdered!' and then, the very next day, she goes and gets herself murdered? I mean, it is odd, isn't it?”
There was a moment's rather uncomfortable silence before Mr Entwhistle said quietly:
“Yes, it is indeed very odd...”
After the Funeral
IV
Mr Entwhistle studied Susan Banks as she leant forward across the table talking in her animated manner.
None of the loveliness of Rosamund here. But it was an attractive face and its attraction lay, Mr Entwhistle decided, in its vitality. The curves of the mouth were rich and full. It was a woman's mouth and her body was very decidedly a woman's - emphatically so. Yet in many ways Susan reminded him of her uncle, Richard Abernethie. The shape of her head, the line of her jaw, the deep-set reflective eyes. She had the same kind of dominant personality that Richard had had, the same driving energy, the same foresightedness and forthright judgment. Of the three members of the younger generation she alone seemed to be made of the metal that had raised up the vast Abernethie fortunes. Had Richard recognised in this niece a kindred spirit to his own? Mr Entwhistle thought he must have done. Richard had always had a keen appreciation of character. Here, surely, were exactly the qualities of which he was in search. And yet, in his will, Richard Abernethie had made no distinction in her favour. Distrustful, as Mr Entwhistle believed, of George, passing over that lovely dimwit, Rosamund - could he not have found in Susan what he was seeking - an heir of his own mettle?
If not, the cause must be - yes, it followed logically - the husband...
Mr Entwhistle's eyes slid gently over Susan's shoulder to where Gregory
Michael Shane did not reply and Rosamund with every appearance of enjoyment said:
“Two murders one after another. It's almost too much, isn't it?”
“Don't be a fool, Rosamund, your Uncle Richard wasn't murdered.”
“Well, Cora thought he was.”
Mr Entwhistle intervened to ask:
“You came back to London after the funeral, didn't you?”
“Yes, we came by the same train as you did.”
“Of course... of course. I ask because I tried to get hold of you,” he shot a quick glance at the telephone - “on the following day - several times in fact, and couldn't get an answer.”
“Oh dear - I'm so sorry. What were we doing that day? The day before yesterday. We were here until about twelve, weren't we? And then you went round to try and get hold of Rosenheim and you went on to lunch with Oscar and I went out to see if I could get some nylons and round the shops. I was to meet Janet but we missed each other. Yes, I had a lovely afternoon shopping - and then we dined at the Castile. We got back here about ten o'clock, I suppose.”
“About that,” said Michael. He was looking thoughtfully at Mr Entwhistle. “What did you want to get hold of us for, sir?”
“Oh! Just some points that had arisen about Richard Abernethie's estate - papers to sign - all that.”
Rosamund asked: “Do we get the money now, or not for ages?”
“I'm afraid,” said Mr Entwhistle, “that the law is prone to delays.”
“But we can get an advance, can't we?” Rosamund looked alarmed. “Michael said we could. Actually it's terribly important. Because of the play.”
Michael said pleasantly:
“Oh, there's no real hurry. It's just a question of deciding whether or not to take up the option.”
“It will be quite easy to advance you some money,” said Mr Entwhistle. “As much as you need.”
“Then that's all right.” Rosamund gave a sigh of relief. She added as an afterthought: “Did Aunt Cora leave any money?”
“A little. She left it to your Cousin Susan.”
“Why Susan, I should like to know! Is it much?”
“A few hundred pounds and some furniture.”
“Nice furniture?”
“No,” said Mr Entwhistle.
Rosamund lost interest. “It's all very odd, isn't it?” she said. “There was Cora, after the funeral, suddenly coming out with 'He was murdered!' and then, the very next day, she goes and gets herself murdered? I mean, it is odd, isn't it?”
There was a moment's rather uncomfortable silence before Mr Entwhistle said quietly:
“Yes, it is indeed very odd...”
After the Funeral
IV
Mr Entwhistle studied Susan Banks as she leant forward across the table talking in her animated manner.
None of the loveliness of Rosamund here. But it was an attractive face and its attraction lay, Mr Entwhistle decided, in its vitality. The curves of the mouth were rich and full. It was a woman's mouth and her body was very decidedly a woman's - emphatically so. Yet in many ways Susan reminded him of her uncle, Richard Abernethie. The shape of her head, the line of her jaw, the deep-set reflective eyes. She had the same kind of dominant personality that Richard had had, the same driving energy, the same foresightedness and forthright judgment. Of the three members of the younger generation she alone seemed to be made of the metal that had raised up the vast Abernethie fortunes. Had Richard recognised in this niece a kindred spirit to his own? Mr Entwhistle thought he must have done. Richard had always had a keen appreciation of character. Here, surely, were exactly the qualities of which he was in search. And yet, in his will, Richard Abernethie had made no distinction in her favour. Distrustful, as Mr Entwhistle believed, of George, passing over that lovely dimwit, Rosamund - could he not have found in Susan what he was seeking - an heir of his own mettle?
If not, the cause must be - yes, it followed logically - the husband...
Mr Entwhistle's eyes slid gently over Susan's shoulder to where Gregory
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