were you at half past six, Jennings?â
âIn the stewardsâ room, sir.â
Colonel Melrose dismissed the man with a nod. He looked across at Curtis inquiringly.
âQuite correct, sir, I checked that up. He was in the stewardsâ room from about six-twenty until seven oâclock.â
âThen that lets him out,â said the chief constable a trifle regretfully. âBesides, thereâs no motive.â
They looked at each other.
There was a tap at the door.
âCome in,â said the colonel.
A scared-looking ladyâs maid appeared.
âIf you please, her ladyship has heard that Colonel Melrose is here and she would like to see him.â
âCertainly,â said Melrose. âIâll come at once. Will you show me the way?â
But a hand pushed the girl aside. A very different figure now stood in the doorway. Laura Dwighton looked like a visitor from another world.
She was dressed in a clinging medieval tea gown of dull blue brocade. Her auburn hair was parted in the middle and brought down over her ears. Conscious of the fact she had a style of her own, Lady Dwighton had never had her hair cut. It was drawn back into a simple knot on the nape of her neck. Her arms were bare.
One of them was outstretched to steady herself against the frame of the doorway, the other hung down by her side, clasping a book. She looks , Mr Satterthwaite thought, like a Madonna from an early Italian canvas .
She stood there, swaying slightly from side to side. Colonel Melrose sprang toward her.
âIâve come to tell you â to tell you ââ
Her voice was low and rich. Mr Satterthwaite was so entranced with the dramatic value of the scene that he had forgotten its reality.
âPlease, Lady Dwighton ââ Melrose had an arm round her, supporting her. He took her across the hall into a small anteroom, its walls hung with faded silk. Quin and Satterthwaite followed. She sank down on the low settee, her head resting back on a rust-coloured cushion, her eyelids closed. The three men watched her. Suddenly she opened her eyes and sat up. She spoke very quietly.
â I killed him ,â she said. âThatâs what I came to tell you. I killed him! â
There was a momentâs agonized silence. Mr Satterthwaiteâs heart missed a beat.
âLady Dwighton,â said Melrose. âYouâve had a great shock â youâre unstrung. I donât think you quite know what youâre saying.â
Would she draw back now â while there was yet time?
âI know perfectly what Iâm saying. It was I who shot him.â
Two of the men in the room gasped, the other made no sound. Laura Dwighton leaned still farther forward.
âDonât you understand? I came down and shot him. I admit it.â
The book she had been holding in her hand clattered to the floor. There was a paper cutter in it, a thing shaped like a dagger with a jewelled hilt. Mr Satterthwaite picked it up mechanically and placed it on the table. As he did so he thought, Thatâs a dangerous toy. You could kill a man with that .
âWell ââ Laura Dwightonâs voice was impatient. ââ what are you going to do about it? Arrest me? Take me away?â
Colonel Melrose found his voice with difficulty.
âWhat you have told me is very serious, Lady Dwighton. I must ask you to go to your room till I have â er â made arrangements.â
She nodded and rose to her feet. She was quite composed now, grave and cold.
As she turned toward the door, Mr Quin spoke. âWhat did you do with the revolver, Lady Dwighton?â
A flicker of uncertainty passed across her face. âI â I dropped it there on the floor. No, I think I threw it out of the window â oh! I canât remember now. What does it matter? I hardly knew what I was doing. It doesnât matter, does it?â
âNo,â said Mr Quin. âI