“Can you?” she asked, looking at me quickly. “Well, then, he seemed to attach a ridiculous importance to the fact that I had not retired last night at the time of the tragedy.”
“I know,” said I, grimly. “Another preconceived idea of his.”
“I told him the truth of the matter, which is surely quite simple, and at first I was unable to understand the nature of his suspicions. Then, after a time, his questions enlightened me. He finally suggested, quite openly, that I had not come down from my room to the corridor in which Madame de Stämer was lying, but had actually been there at the time!”
“In the corridor outside her room?”
“Yes. He seemed to think that I had just come in from the door near the end of the east wing and beside the tower, which opens into the shrubbery.”
“That you had just come in?” I exclaimed. “He thinks, then, that you had been out in the grounds?”
Val Beverley’s face had been very pale, but now she flushed indignantly, and glanced away from me as she replied:
“He dared to suggest that I had been to keep an assignation.”
“The fool!” I cried. “The ignorant, impudent fool!”
“Oh,” she declared, “I felt quite ill with indignation. I am afraid I may regard Inspector Aylesbury as an enemy from now onward, for when I had recovered from the shock I told him very plainly what I thought about his intellect, or lack of it.”
“I am glad you did,” I said, warmly. “Before Inspector Aylesbury is through with this business I fancy he will know more about his limitations than he knows at present. The fact of the matter is that he is
