The poor beggar has these fits of venom. He's not really loopy, you know. All this nonsense is a kind of blowing off steam. The truth is, we all get under his skin particularly Gina, of course.' 'Gina? You mean Mrs Hudd? Why does she get under his skin?' 'Because she's a woman - and a very beautiful woman, and because she thinks he's funny! She's half Italian, you know, and the Italians have that unconscious vein of cruelty. They've no compassion for anyone who's old or ugly, or peculiar in any way. They point with their fingers and jeer. That's what Gina did, metaphorically speaking.

She'd no use for young Edgar. He was ridiculous, pompous, and at bottom fundamentally unsure of himself.

He wanted to impress, and he only succeeded in looking silly. It wouldn't mean anything to her that the poor fellow suffered a lot.' 'Are you suggesting that Edgar Lawson is in love with Mrs Hudd?' asked Inspector Curry.

Stephen replied cheerfully: 'Oh yes. As a matter of fact we all are, more or less! She likes us that way.' 'Does her husband like it?' 'He takes a dim view. He suffers, too, poor fellow. The thing can't last, you know. Their marriage, I mean. It will break up before long. It was just one of these war affairs.' 'This is all very interesting,' said the Inspector. 'But we're getting away from our subject, which is the murder of Christian Gulbrandsen.' 'Quite,' said Stephen. 'But I can't tell you anything about it. I sat at the piano, and I didn't leave the piano until dear Jolly came in with some rusty old keys and tried to fit one to the lock of the study door.'

'You stayed at the piano. Did you continue to play the piano?'

'A gentle obbligato to the life and death struggle in Lewis's study? No, I stopped playing when the tempo rose. Not that I had any doubts as to the outcome. Lewis has what I can only describe as a dynamic eye. He could easily break up Edgar just by looking at him.'

'Yet Edgar Lawson fired two shots at him.' Stephen shook his head gently.

'Just putting on an act, that was. Enjoying himself. My dear mother used to do it. She died or ran away with someone when I was four, but I remember her blazing off with a pistol if anything upset her. She did it at a night club once. Made a pattern on the wall. She was an excellent shot. Quite a bit of trouble she caused. She was a Russian dancer, you know.'

'Indeed. Can you tell me, Mr Restarick, who left the Hall yesterday evening whilst you were there - during the relevant time?'

'Wally - to fzx the lights. Juliet Believer to find a key to fit the study door. Nobody else, as far as I know.' 'Would you have noticed if somebody did?' Stephen considered.

'Probably not. That is, if they just tiptoed out and back again. It was so dark in the Hall - and there was the fight to which we were all listening avidly.'

'Is there anyone you are sure was there the whole time?'

'Mrs Serrocold - yes, and Gina. I'd swear to them.' 'Thank you, Mr Restarick.' Stephen went towards the door. Then he hesitated and came back.

'What's all this,' he said, 'about arsenic?' 'Who mentioned arsenic to you?' 'My brother.' 'Ah - yes.' Stephen said: 'Has somebody been giving Mrs Serrocold arsenic?' 'Why should you mention Mrs Serrocold?' 'I've read of the symptoms of arsenical poisoning.

Peripheral neuritis, isn't it? It would square more or less with what she's been suffering from lately. And then Lewis snatching away her tonic last night. Is that what's been going on here?' 'The matter is under investigation,' said Inspector Curry in his most official manner.

'Does she know about it herself?.' 'Mr Serrocold was particularly anxious that she should not be - alarmed.' 'Alarmed isn't the right word, Inspector. Mrs Serro-cold is never alarmed… Is that what lies behind Christian Gulbrandsen's death? Did he find out she was being poisoned - but how could he find out? Anyway, [he whole thing seems most improbable. It doesn't make sense.' 'It surprises you very much, does it, Mr Restarick?' 'Yes, indeed. When Alex spoke to me I could hardly believe it.' 'Who, in your opinion, would be likely to administer arsenic to Mrs Serrocold?' For a moment a grin appeared upon Stephen Restarick's handsome face.

'Not the usual person. You can wash out the husband.

Lewis Serrocold's got nothing to gain. And also he worships that woman. He can't bear her to have an ache in her little finger.' 'Who then? Have you any idea?' 'Oh yes. I'd say it was a certainty.' 'Explain, please.' Stephen shook his head.

'It's a certainty psychologically speaking. Not in any other way. No evidence of any kind. And you probably wouldn't agree.' Stephen Restarick went out nonchalantly, and Inspector Curry drew cats on the sheet of paper in front of him.

He was thinking three things. A, that Stephen Restarick thought a good deal of himself; B, that Stephen Restarick and his brother presented a united front; and C, that Stephen Restarick was a handsome man where Walter Hudd was a plain one.

He wondered about two other things - what Stephen meant by 'psychologically speaking' and whether Stephen could possibly have seen Gina from his seat at the piano. He rather thought not.

Into the Gothic gloom of the library, Gina brought an exotic glow. Even Inspector Curry blinked a little at the radiant young woman who sat down, leaned forward over the table and said expectantly, 'Well?' Inspector Curry, observing her scarlet shirt and dark green slacks, said drily: 'I see you're not wearing mourning, Mrs Hudd?' 'I haven't got any,' said Gina. 'I know everyone is supposed to have a little black number and wear it with pearls. But I don't. I hate black. I think it's hideous, and only receptionists and housekeepers and people like that ought to wear it. Anyway Christian Gulbrandsen wasn't really a relation. He's my grandmother's stepson.' 'And I suppose you didn't know him very well?' Gina shook her head.

'He came here three or four times when I was a child, but then in the war I went to America, and I only came back here to live about six months ago.' 'You have definitely come back here to live? You're not just on a visit?' 'I haven't really thought,' said Gina.

'You were in the Great Hall last night, when Mr Gulbrandsen went to his room?' 'Yes. He said goodnight and went away. Grandam asked if he had everything he wanted and he said yes that Jolly had fixed him up fine. Not those words, but that kind of thing. He said he had letters to write.' 'And then?' Gina described the scene between Lewis and Edgar Lawson. It was the same story that Inspector Curry had by now heard many times, but it took an added colour, a new gusto, under Gina's handling. It became drama.

'It was Wally's revolver,' she said. 'Fancy Edgar's having the guts to go and pinch it out of his room. I'd never have believed he'd have the guts.' 'Were you alarmed when they went into the study and Edgar Lawson locked the door?' 'Oh no,' said Gina, opening her enormous brown eyes very wide. 'I loved it. It was so ham, you know, and so madly theatrical. Everything Edgar does is always ridiculous.

One can't take him seriously for a moment.'

'He did fire the revolver, though?'

'Yes. We all thought then that he'd shot Lewis after 'And did you enjoy that?' Inspector Curry could not refrain from asking.

'Oh no, I was terrified, then. Everyone was, except

Grandam. She never turned a hair.'

'That seems rather remarkable.'

'Not really. She's that kind of person. Not quite in this world. She's the sort of person who never believes anything bad can happen. She's sweet.'

'During all this scene, who was in the Hall?'

'Oh we were all there. Except Uncle Christian, of course.'

'Not all, Mrs Hudd. People went in and out.'

'Did they?' asked Gina vaguely.

'Your husband, for instance, went out to fLx the lights.' 'Yes. Wally's great at fixing things.'