"Then why ask me?" Hammond shrugged, but his eyes flickered toward Polly
Beale.
"I thought perhaps you could give me a little additional information,"
Dundee soothed him. "You see, it happens that I saw you, Miss Beale and
another young man come into the Stuart House dining room about half past
one today, just when I was thinking of lunch for myself."
"The mysterious 'other young man' was Clive's brother, Ralph Hammond,"
Polly Beale cut in brusquely.
"Your decision to lunch with your fiancé and his brother was quite a
sudden one?" Dundee asked courteously. "Just when did you change your
mind about Mrs. Selim's luncheon party at Breakaway Inn, Miss Beale?"
The tall girl threw up her mannishly cropped, chestnut head. "There is
nothing at all sinister or even queer about it, Mr. Dundee! I was on my
way to the luncheon, when I decided to drive past Nita's house, on the
chance that she might like me to drive her over."
"Then you didn't know that Mrs. Dunlap had already arranged to meet Mrs.
Selim downtown this morning and to take her to the Inn?" Dundee asked.
"No! I didn't hear of the arrangement," Polly answered decidedly.
"You were a close friend of Mrs. Selim's perhaps?" Dundee prodded.
"Not at all! But that would not keep me from doing my hostess a
courtesy.... She hated her Ford and liked expensive cars," Polly added
unemotionally. "It was about a quarter to one when I got here, I should
say. Nita wasn't here, nor was her maid, but I saw Ralph's car parked in
front of the house--"
"_Ralph Hammond's car?_" a woman squealed, but Dundee let Polly
continue.
"I rang and he answered the door. Said he was alone in the house, going
over the premises at Judge Marshall's request," Polly said evenly.
"That's right--that's right!" Judge Marshall agreed hastily. "Nita--Mrs.
Selim--wanted the unfinished half of the gabled top story finished up.
Wanted a maid's room and bath, and a guest room and bath added to the
living quarters already completed. I gave the commission, for an
estimate, at least, to the Hammond firm, since they had built the house
originally for Crain--Penny's father."
"I see," Dundee agreed. "And you sent your brother, Mr. Hammond?"
"He was the natural one to send," Clive Hammond retorted. "Small job.
All he had to do was to get together an estimate on additional furnace
lines and radiators, electric wiring, plumbing, plastering, etc."
"Go on, Miss Beale," Dundee directed.
"Thanks!" There was sarcasm in her brusque voice. "But that's really
about all I have to tell. Ralph complained that he was hungry and
charged me with giving him too little of my time--the usual thing. I
picked up Nita's phone, called Clive and made the date for the three of
us. Then I called Breakaway Inn, cancelled the luncheon part of the
bridge party with Nita, and Ralph and I drove back to Hamilton."
Dundee studied her strong, clever, almost plain face for a long minute.
Certainly Polly Beale did not look like a liar--but he would have taken
his oath that she was lying now. Or rather not revealing the whole truth
behind the actual facts of her movements that day. For instance, could a
simple plea of her future brother-in-law make her do so discourteous a
thing as to break a luncheon appointment, especially when such a course
would not only disappoint her hostess and her friends but disarrange the
seating plan of a rather formal party?
Of course the explanation was obvious. She had wanted, first, to see
Nita and remonstrate privately with her for having so enslaved Ralph
Hammond, when he was tacitly known to "belong" to Penny Crain--one of
the sacred crowd. Failing that, she had found Ralph himself, and had not
expected to find him; had talked with him about Nita, and had quarreled
a bit with him, perhaps, over his love-sodden behavior. And the crisis
had become so acute that Polly had arbitrarily called upon Clive Hammond
and then had forced Ralph to accompany her.
"Do you know, Miss Beale, why Ralph Hammond did not keep _his_
engagement with Mrs. Selim this afternoon? Or rather, his promise to
appear for cocktails and to be Miss Crain's partner for the rest of the
evening--dinner and dancing at the Country Club?"
"I do not!" Polly said crisply.
"Hammond?"
"Neither do I," Hammond retorted angrily.
"Then it was not to discuss Ralph Hammond and his--affairs, that you
beckoned Miss Beale to meet you in the solarium upon your arrival?"
"It--_was not_!"
A shade too much anger and emphasis, Dundee decided. And he wished
heartily that Strawn's detectives would not delay much longer in
bringing the missing young man into this already involved examination.
"You say that you both were in the solarium from the time of your
arrival, Hammond, until Mrs. Marshall screamed," Dundee continued. "Just
what did you see and hear?"
Dundee watched their faces keenly, but again they were well-bred,
expressionless. It was Polly Beale who answered: "Naturally there was
not absolute silence, but I am afraid we were not listening. We were
rather engrossed in our conversation. We were seated--near no
windows--and I for one _saw_ nothing, as well as heard nothing that I
can recall."
"Hammond?"
"That goes for me, too--absolutely!"
Abruptly abandoning the engaged couple, Dundee returned to Miles. "You
were the second arrival, then?"
"Yes. I parked my car along the curb in front of the house," Tracey
answered readily. "And I came right on in, and Nita jumped up--"
"Yes. We've had all that twice before," Dundee interrupted cruelly.
"Now, Judge Marshall--"
"One of my friends gave me a lift from town," Judge Marshall volunteered
pompously. "Chap named Sampson. You may have heard of him--fine fellow,
splendid lawyer. We played billiards together at the Athletic Club, and
when I was about to call a taxi--my wife having the car here--he offered
to drop me here on his way to the Country Club.... N-no, I don't
remember the exact time, did not consult my watch."
"You came directly from the road into the house, Judge Marshall?"
"Certainly, sir!"
"Did you--er, see anyone?"
"You mean, sir, did anyone see _me_?" Judge Marshall demanded with
pompous indignation. "No, no one, sir! If my word is not good enough for
you, you can think what you damned please!"
"I think we are all getting a little too tired, Mr. Dundee," Penny Crain
suggested, almost humble in her weariness.
"I'm truly sorry," the young detective apologized. "But I can't leave
things like this ... Mr. Drake, you have said you walked over from the
Country Club. You must have approached the house from the driveway side,
the side of the house which contains Mrs. Selim's bedroom.... Is that
right?"
"More or less, except that I skirted the house rather widely and arrived
from the road, stepping upon the front porch, and walking directly into
the hall. I saw no one outside or near the house when I arrived," Drake
answered, with less than his usual nastiness.
"And saw no one running away across the meadows?" Dundee pressed.
"No one at all," Drake retorted. "I wish to God I could truthfully say
that I saw a gunman, with a mask and a smoking revolver, skulking
through the wildflowers, but the absolute truth is that I saw no one."
"Thank you, Mr. Drake.... Now--Mr. Sprague, 'of New York'!"
Sprague's nervously twitching face reddened darkly. "I--I took a bus. I
have no car of my own. I got off the bus on Sheridan Road, at the
entrance to Primrose Meadows."
"I see. And you walked the quarter of a mile to this house?"