Appleby Talking Read Free Page B

late that has frequently been in the small hours?”
    The man flushed, hesitated, and then ignored the question. “But I did eventually doze off, and all I can say is that I heard three distinct voices. Not what they said, but just the sound of them.”
    “That’s it!” Mrs Arbuthnot broke in anxiously. “My voice, Rupert’s voice, and then the voice of the thief and murderer. He must have tried to bluff when he blundered in on Rupert.”
    Appleby ignored this. “You mean,” he asked Arbuthnot, “that you heard three voices engaged in conversation?”
    “I couldn’t say that. And I can’t be sure that the third voice said very much. But the other two were Slade’s and my wife’s, all right. So I suppose her explanation fits well enough.”
    “Do you, indeed?” Appleby spoke dryly. “By the way, was this third voice a cultivated voice?”
    Arbuthnot hesitated. “Well, yes; I’m pretty sure it was. I sleepily felt something rather disconcerting about it, as a matter of fact.”
    “A gentleman cracksman. And one, incidentally, who turned with some facility and abruptness to murder.” Appleby paused. “Mr Arbuthnot,” he continued abruptly, “you must be very aware of one likely hypothesis in this case. Are you prepared to swear – in a criminal court, if need be – that last night you didn’t get out of bed, enter this room while your wife was making sandwiches in the kitchen, and here – well, encounter the dead man?”
    Arbuthnot had gone pale. “I did not,” he said.
    “And you are sure that this story of a third voice, and of stolen diamonds, has not been concocted between your wife and yourself?”
    “I am certain that it has not.”
    Appleby turned to the Sergeant. “There are two servants – the Ropers. Are they in a position to corroborate this story in any way?”
    The Sergeant fumbled with a notebook. And Arbuthnot gloomily cut in. “Not a chance of it, I’m afraid. I told them to go to bed. And they sleep like logs. It’s been a regular joke between my wife and myself.”
    Mrs Arbuthnot nodded. “They wouldn’t hear a thing,” she declared confidently.
    Appleby moved to the bell. “We’ll have them in,” he said. “And the whole dramatis personae will then be present for the conclusion of the play.”
    Arbuthnot started. “The conclusion, did you say?”
    And Appleby nodded. “Yes, Mr Arbuthnot. Just that.”
    The Sergeant buried his nose in his notebook. He was thinking that he had heard his superiors employ that sort of easy bluff before.

 
     
4
    The Ropers sprang a surprise. They had, after all, been very much awake, for a crash in the kitchen had aroused them. And at this Mrs Arbuthnot’s hand flew to her throat and she gave a little choking gasp. “The bread bin!” she said. “I knocked it from the shelf.”
    “Ah.” Appleby turned to the man Roper, a quiet, wary fellow with the ability to stand absolutely still. “And, once aroused, will you tell us what you heard, either from this room or from any other room in the apartment?”
    “We heard three people talking in here: Mr and Mrs Arbuthnot and the dead man, Mr Slade.”
    “It’s a lie!” Arbuthnot had sprung to his feet.
    And his wife too sprang up, quivering. “How dare you,” she gasped, facing the servants. “How dare you tell such a wicked untruth.”
    But Roper merely looked very grim. “There’s no lie in it,” he said quietly. “It’s true we both quickly fell asleep again, perhaps before the murder happened. But your three voices we can swear to. So it is Mr Arbuthnot who is lying when he says he never left his bed.”
    There was a silence. Appleby turned to Mrs Roper, a pale, nervous woman who was softly wringing her hands. “You have heard what your husband has just said. Do you corroborate it in every detail?”
    Mrs Roper nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, it’s true – God help them.”
    “Do you know anything that you believe it would be useful to add?”
    But Mrs Roper