The Mystery at Stowe. Vernon Loder
Miss Sayers nodded gravely. ‘You mean it was one of the poisoned ones they found in poor Margery?’
‘I am sure he meant that. When you said people talked, I thought of that at once.’
‘But why should you, dear?’
‘Well, we know it was Ned’s business with Elaine’s expedition that annoyed Margery.’
‘But surely no one would be so wicked as to suggest—’
‘Oh! wouldn’t they? I don’t know that it is wicked either. The police will fish about for evidence, and a motive, and they will know it was Elaine who had these darts, and knew how to use them, and it was she who found Margery.’
‘But that has nothing to do with it. The finding, I mean. I can tell you, Netta, if the horrid police ask me if I know there was a split between Ned and Margery over Elaine, I shall say I have no idea. I haven’t really. It isn’t fair to decide that they were really divided just because Margery and he looked glum at times.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ said Netta thoughtfully. ‘They want to know facts, not conjectures. I agree with you. I won’t say a word about what I conjectured. Mr Barley said her window was wide open. Some burglar may have shot her from outside. If Elaine had done it, she wouldn’t have been such a fool as to go in to find her dead.’
‘Of course she didn’t do it,’ said Nelly. ‘I am only afraid of Ortho Haine saying something. The Heads are too absorbed in bridge to know what is going on, but Ortho has been quite potty lately about Margery.’
‘You mean he was in love with her?’
‘No, I don’t say that. He’s a nice boy, and I like him, but he has Platonic passions. Last year he used to adore that bad-tempered tennis player; though I don’t believe he ever met her! I am sure he thought Ned too material for Margery.’
‘He is rather an ass,’ said Netta. ‘But perhaps we had better go in again now, and wait for the superintendent.’
The superintendent had already arrived, and was making an investigation of Mrs Tollard’s room, in the company of the detective. As Mrs Gailey and her companion returned to the house, they saw two men momentarily at the window above. Fisher was tall and gaunt, a very grave man with a worried air; the detective-inspector was round and chubby.
‘I suppose they have to measure, and do things like that,’ said Nelly, as she entered the door.
Their evidence was not required at once, and quite half an hour had passed when the two officers from Elterham descended the stairs with Mr Barley, and went into the library. A minute later, Mr Barley emerged, and went for Elaine.
‘They want to hear what you have to say,’ he told her, in his worried voice.
She nodded, and accompanied him. When she entered the library she gave each man in turn a quick, observant look, then sat down, and folded her hands lightly on her lap.
‘I understand that you wished to see me?’ she said.
Superintendent Fisher bowed. ‘Yes, madam. I understand that you were the first to discover the body of the poor lady upstairs. I should like to ask you a few questions.’
‘Very well.’
The inspector had a note-book on his knee. He sucked his pencil-point meditatively, and bent an alert ear.
‘What first attracted your attention to that room?’
Elaine replied clearly, ‘My own room is next to it.’
‘Not the room with the communicating door?’
‘No, that was Mr Tollard’s room. Mine is to the other side. I was rather restless last night, on account of the heat. It was just about dawn when I heard slight movements in the next room. A bed seemed to creak, as if someone were tossing on it.’
‘Surely this is an old house, with thick walls?’
‘I should think it is. But her window was open, and so was mine. At any rate, I heard these sounds. Later on, I heard what sounded like a moan. Mrs Tollard had not been well the day before, and I wondered if she was in pain. At last I got up, went into her room, when I heard a slight cry, and found her lying on the floor, dead.’
‘Did you hear her fall?’
‘No.’
Mr Barley interposed anxiously: ‘Excuse me. I thought I heard a thud, though my room is on the other side of the passage.’
Elaine stared straight before her. ‘When I entered the room, and saw her lying there, I put my arm under her, and tried to lift her up. Then something told me she was dead, and though I have had some experience in my travels of sudden deaths, I was so shocked that I let her fall back.’
‘That will explain the bruise on the back of the head,’ said the superintendent.
‘HAS Dr Browne gone?’ asked the superintendent, of Mr Barley.
‘Yes. He had to go to an urgent case. He will be back later.’
‘Then we must leave this question of the bruise till later. Now, Miss Gurdon, you are aware that Dr Browne believed Mrs Tollard died as the result of some alkaloid poison in which the point of a dart had been steeped. You know something of these primitive South American weapons.’
‘Yes.’
‘And you have heard of the use of curare?’
‘I have seen it used in that way.’
‘Then you will agree with Dr Browne that it was used in this case?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
Mr Barley started, looking puzzled. Even the detective gave her a glance of wonder.
‘Why not?’
She frowned slightly. ‘There are several ways of poisoning these darts. Some tribes use a poison that is unfamiliar to me. Some poison them with snake-venom injected by the snake into rotten meat. Some use woorali, which is also called urari, and curare here at home. But curare is not so deadly when it is stale.’
‘I was not aware of that,’ said Fisher thoughtfully. ‘But your answer, Miss Gurdon, brings up another point. How could you, from merely seeing the body, assert that poison other than fresh poison was used on the top of the dart?’
‘I have every ground for believing it,’ she said steadily. ‘Mr Barley has taken over some curios of mine. Among them is a blow-pipe, and a little quiver for darts. There were six darts in the quiver when the trophy was hung up in the hall. This morning, in Mr Barley’s presence, I took it down, and found only five.’
‘Is this true, sir?’ said Fisher quickly.
‘Quite. I forgot to tell you.’
‘Well, we shall go into that later. I want to hear more of these weapons, Miss Gurdon. For example, what is their range?’
Elaine looked down. ‘It varies, just as the range of a bow and arrow varies, with the user. I should say sixty yards was a very long shot, and many people would not be able to aim accurately at that distance.’
‘While the speed of the dart would not be great?’
‘That is of no moment. The darts themselves, unless received in the eyes, say, would not do much harm. The savage relies on the deadly poison with which the dart is tipped.’
‘So that a mere scratch would be fatal?’
‘If