Ne'er Do Well by Dornford Yates Page B

won’t.”
    â€œNow what have you got, Falcon?”
    â€œThe tablet and Dallas’ contribution. That may or may not be of value. But that is all.”
    â€œNot bad for the very first day.”
    â€œNo, I’ve been very lucky.”
    â€œAcquaintances?”
    â€œLondon is on that now. His papers may reveal something. The Will may be a pointer – you never know. Who stood to gain by his death?”
    â€œI don’t like that one,” said Mansel.
    â€œNeither do I. But there must be a motive somewhere.”
    â€œSomehow I don’t think it was gain. Jealousy, yes. Hatred. But somehow not gain.”
    â€œI’m inclined to agree; but I can’t rule anything out. There are three more patients on the terrace. I can hardly believe that one of them is concerned, but I’ll have to see them tomorrow.”
    â€œDallas sounds rather glib.”
    â€œI’m with you there. I’m not quite sure of the man. But Paterson says that he can’t put his foot to the ground.”
    â€œAnd after the Inquest?”
    â€œI shall go to Curfew Place. His servants may be able to help.”
    â€œHouse-surgeon all right?” said I.
    â€œI think so. He’s rather hard to sum up. But then at this stage I can take no one on trust.”
    â€œExcept the night-sister,” said Jenny.
    â€œQuite right, Mrs Chandos. She is above suspicion. So are they all, more or less. But as for her – well, I might as well suspect you.”
    There was a little silence. Then –
    â€œSuperintendent,” said Jenny, “may I ask you a personal question?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œWell, this evening you’ve told us exactly not only what you have done, but what you have seen and heard. And very much more than that. You have repeated in detail each conversation you’ve had. Question and answer, over and over again. How on earth can you remember?”
    Falcon smiled.
    â€œIt’s a matter of practice, Mrs Chandos. If you’d practised as long as I have, you would be able to do exactly the same. You see, very early on I realized this – that I should never get on terms with a witness, if he saw that what he was saying was being taken down. Not the terms I wanted to be on. Yet sometimes every word – almost every inflection – might have an important bearing upon the case. And so I began to train my memory – make it into a record, like that of a dictaphone. I’ve played it to you this evening. After thirty years it’s getting quite good.”
    â€œI think it’s marvellous.”
    â€œSo it is,” said Mansel. “I need hardly add that, for obvious reasons, such a faculty is quite invaluable.”
    â€œI’ve found it so,” said Falcon, “again and again. Of course the impression fades. But if it’s important, I dictate it while it is clear.”
    What more was said, I forget: but very soon after that, we all of us went to bed.
    Â 
    Not till the Inquest was over did Falcon go on with his tale; for on the following night he spent an hour or more in the curtilage of the Home. It was past eleven o’clock by the time he got back, and, though he was ready to talk, Jenny would not let him, but put on some Chopin records, to stop our mouths. So, after a quiet half hour, we all retired. But on Friday, the following evening, Falcon sat back in his chair and told us the truth.
    â€œYesterday morning I took the road past the Home. I stopped by the side of the way and used your binocular. I could see right into the rooms. I saw a sister moving in Dallas’ room. But I couldn’t see any detail. If close observation was kept, it was kept in the meadows by night.
    â€œThen I went to the station and had a word with the Yard. Inspector Welcome is down at Curfew Place. The solicitors are most helpful. They’re the executors, too, and Welcome’s been given a room and all facilities. The