What Happened at Hazelwood by Michael Innes

Author:Michael Innes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: What Happened at Hazelwood
ISBN: 9780755121182
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2012-05-19T00:00:00+00:00

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5

There are times when I hate him, and this was one of them. Hounding people about is a disgusting trade. I wish it wasn’t so fascinating.

Lady Simney paled when she saw the suitcase and I could see that this particular triumph of our nosey-parkering was a real shock to her. She sat down. ‘I didn’t kill my husband,’ she said. ‘Nor do I know who did.’

The Inspector crossed the room and stood beside her – a little too close up, so that he was almost standing over her. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘that’s a very extraordinary remark to make. Nobody has breathed a word of such a suspicion, and you start off like that. It sets one wondering at once.’

But he got no change with this. ‘There’s nothing extraordinary about it,’ she said. ‘I’m simply not beating about the bush – and I expect the same of you. Poke among my private possessions if you like. But don’t waste time on making your approaches cunning and foxy. Of course I’m suspected.’

‘Since you’re so sure of that, Lady Simney, perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling us why?’

She gave a sort of quick, severe smile. She had the trick of expressions and gestures which were at once beautiful in themselves and unrelated to any clear conception of her character which you could form. And so, although she was frank and direct enough, and gave herself no airs of mystery, there was a point at which you came to feel that she was a perfect walking Mona Lisa. (But can one conceive Mona Lisa as having legs and going for a stroll round that landscape? I’m talking about a picture. Show this bit to auntie Flo.)

‘Yes, I can,’ she said. ‘I can tell you in a dozen words. My marriage was bad. It began in disillusion – which means sin – and ended downright squalid. My husband’s infidelities were tiresome. But his fidelity was intolerable.’

Well, it sounded straight talk. And again the Inspector was breathing heavily. This was the sort of thing he was accustomed to bully out of the commonalty, or to worm out of their superiors by an elaborate bedside manner. You mustn’t have any pretty fancies about this job of ours.

‘Moreover, yesterday was a sort of crisis. A number of things happened. The young Australian who has arrived here started making love to me in a hothouse. One of my sisters-in-law disapproved. Then George did rather more than start on the same lines with this young man’s wife – and incidentally in what must have been pretty well an icehouse. I came upon them, more or less. He shouted something about having seen my lover – he must somehow have got wind of the hothouse business – and then he struck me. And, of course, before that, life has been hopelessly disordered: quarrels and smashings and fights.’

‘It does appear, Lady Simney, that folk here about are a bit free with their hands.’ He fished out a notebook and affected to consult it.

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