The Secret of Chimneys (1925)

15 The French Stranger

Virginia and Anthony walked side by side down the path which led to the lake. For some minutes after leaving the house they were silent. It was Virginia who broke the silence at last with a little laugh.

"Oh, dear," she said, "isn't it dreadful? Here I am so bursting with the things I want to tell you, and the things I want to know, that I simply don't know where to begin. First of all"—she lowered her voice—"What have you done with the body? How awful it sounds, doesn't it! I never dreamt that I should be so steeped in crime."

"I suppose it's quite a novel sensation for you," agreed Anthony.

"But not for you?"

"Well, I've never disposed of a corpse before, certainly."

"Tell me about it."

Briefly and succinctly, Anthony ran over the steps he had taken on the previous night. Virginia listened attentively.

"I think you were very clever," she said approvingly when he had finished. "I can pick up the trunk again when I go back to Paddington. The only difficulty that might arise is if you had to give an account of where you were yesterday evening."

"I can't see that that can arise. The body can't have been found until late last night—or possibly this morning. Otherwise there would have been something about it in this morning's papers. And whatever you may imagine from reading detective stories, doctors aren't such magicians that they can tell you exactly how many hours a man has been dead. The exact time of his death will be pretty vague. An alibi for last night would be far more to the point."

"I know. Lord Caterham was telling me all about it. But the Scotland Yard man is quite convinced of your innocence now, isn't he?"

Anthony did not reply at once.

"He doesn't look particularly astute," continued Virginia.

"I don't know about that," said Anthony slowly. "I've an impression that there are no flies on Superintendent Battle. He appears to be convinced of my innocence—but I'm not so sure. He's stumped at present by my apparent lack of motive."

"Apparent?" cried Virginia. "But what possible reason could you have for murdering an unknown foreign Count?"

Anthony darted a sharp glance at her.

"You were at one time or other in Herzoslovakia, weren't you?" he asked.

"Yes. I was there with my husband, for two years, at the Embassy."

"That was just before the assassination of the King and Queen. Did you ever run across Prince Michael Obolovitch?"

"Michael? Of course I did. Horrid little wretch! He suggested, I remember, that I should marry him morganatically."

"Did he really? And what did he suggest you should do about your existing husband?"

"Oh, he had a sort of David and Uriah scheme all made out."

"And how did you respond to this amiable offer?"

"Well," said Virginia, "unfortunately one had to be diplomatic. So poor little Michael didn't get it as straight from the shoulder as he might have done. But he retired hurt all the same. Why all this interest about Michael?"

"Something I'm getting at in my own blundering fashion. I take it that you didn't meet the murdered man?"

"No. To put it like a book, he 'retired to his own apartments immediately on arrival.'"

"And of course you haven't seen the body?"

Virginia, eyeing him with a good deal of interest, shook her head.