Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
“Good heavens, man,” he cried, “if you had nothing to do with it, why
not say so, and if you can prove it, so much the better. I’ve only one
motive in all this, to clear Leslie. Why work against instead of with
me?”
“Because I resent your insinuations. If you think you’ve got anything
against me, prove it. You’ve apparently had the damned impertinence to
rake up my past and pry into my private affairs and you’ve all but
told me to my face that I killed Mrs. Draycott. Well, take your story
to the police and see what ice it cuts with them! If they’ve any
questions to ask me I’m ready to answer them. Meanwhile, I advise you
to take your amateur detective work elsewhere.”
Fayre hesitated for a moment; then he decided to make one more effort
towards conciliation.
“I’m very sorry you’ve taken this line,” he said. “Frankly, I have
hoped all along that you would be able to give some satisfactory
explanation of your attitude towards the whole affair. I can very well
believe that the subject is a painful one to you and I can sympathize
with your reluctance to drag it up again after all these years, but
you must admit that your behaviour has been open to suspicion. Once
more I appeal to you to act reasonably, if only for Leslie’s sake.”
Gregg’s only answer was to stride heavily to the door and fling it
open.
“I have already told you that I resent your interference,” he said
shortly. “If I make any statement, it will be to those who have a
right to demand it. You can hardly be surprised if I don’t consider
you one of them. Take what steps you please, but I warn you that I am
quite prepared to meet them.”
Without a word Fayre took out his note-case once more. He walked over
to the writing-table and picked up the prescription Gregg had written,
leaving two guineas in its place. Then he took his hat and coat and
left the room with such dignity as he could muster. As he passed
through the hall he heard the crash of the study door as Gregg slammed
it, and realized that in the first encounter, at any rate, the honours
of war were to the doctor. Either the man was innocent or he had put
up the most amazing bluff Fayre had ever encountered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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