sked Merrington.

Miss Heredith replied that she did not.

"I suppose her husband would know them?"

"It is quite impossible to question my nephew," said Miss Heredith
decisively. "He is dreadfully ill."

Merrington nodded in a dissatisfied sort of way. He was aware of Phil's
illness, and his suspicious mind wondered whether it had been assumed
for the occasion in order to keep back something which the police ought
to know. His thick lip curled savagely at the idea. If these people
tried to hide anything from him in order to save a scandal, so much the
worse for them. But that was something he would go into later.

The next questions he put to Miss Heredith were designed to ascertain
what she thought of the murder, whether she had any suspicions of her
own, and whether there was any reason for suspecting Miss Heredith
herself. At that stage of the inquiry it was Merrington's business to
suspect everybody. He could not afford to allow the slightest chance to
slip. His object was to get at the truth; to weigh each particle of
supposition or evidence without regard to the feelings or social
position of the witness.

The case so far puzzled him, and Miss Heredith's answers to his
questions revealed little about the murder that he had not previously
known. The only additional facts he gleaned related to the murdered
girl's brief existence at the moat-house; of her earlier history and her
London life Miss Heredith knew nothing whatever. Merrington made some
notes of the replies in an imposing pocket-book, but he was plainly
dissatisfied as he turned to another phase of the investigation.

"Were all your guests in the dining-room at the time the scream and the
shot were heard?" he asked.

"They were all there when I left the room. The butler can tell you if
any left afterwards."

"I will question Tufnell on that point later. No, on second thoughts, it
will be better to settle it now. I attach importance to it."

Tufnell was recalled to the room, and, in reply to Superintendent
Merrington's question, stated that none of the guests left the
dining-room before the shot was fired. Tufnell added they were all
interested in listening to a story that Mr. Musard was telling. Having
imparted this information the butler returned to the breakfast room,
overweighted with the responsibility of superintending the morning meal
in his mistress's absence.

"Is this Musard the jewel expert of that name?" asked Merrington.

"Our g