Page 17 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
Mrs. Grantley-Owen removed a banknote from her bag and placed it on the desk. “His fee. Tell Mr. Armitage I’ll inform all of my friends what an excellent investigator he is.” She marched out of the office and closed the door.
I sat back with a laugh. Harry’s instincts had been right. The dog had simply returned home when he was hungry, but if Mrs. Grantley-Owen thought Harry had something to do with it, then it wasn’t my place to disabuse her of the notion.
A few minutes later, Harry arrived. He didn’t look surprised to see me, so must have been warned by Luigi. “Hello, Cleo. I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”
The sight of him always affected me in some way, usually good, but this time my heart quickened out of all proportion to the length of our absence. I’d seen him a mere week ago, when we finished our investigation into the murder on the Brighton Express.
“Hello, Harry.” I rose and rounded the desk. “It was rather arrogant of you to presume I’d visit today.”
He smiled as he removed his hat and hung it on the stand near the door. “You call it arrogance, I call it knowing you very well.”
“Are you suggesting that I can’t stay away after a short absence?”
His smile widened. It was all the answer I required.
“As I said,arrogantsince you couldn’t possibly have predicted there’d be a murder and I’d need?—”
“Murder!” His smile vanished. He lifted his hands, as if to place them on my shoulders, but he lowered them to his sides and settled for frowning fiercely instead. “Cleo, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. The gamekeeper, however, was shot on the driveway; the murder weapon hasn’t been found. I thought you might know about the science of ballistics.”
“I don’t know much. Not enough to pay me for my knowledge.” He picked up the banknote Mrs. Grantley-Owen had placed on the desk. “I’ll always help you for free anyway, Cleo. You’ve supported me enough by allowing me to take the glory when you solve a case.” The more he spoke, the more his voice softened. By the end, I was left in no doubt of his feelings for me, simply by the velvety purr.
I tried very hard not to let his tone affect me, but I found I couldn’t meet his gaze, not if I wanted to keep the meeting on a professional footing. Something I’d planned to do, but my resolve was cracking with every thud of my heart. “That arrangement suits me, too, since the journalists won’t give up without a name and my uncle would explode ifmyname was mentioned as the investigating detective. Anyway, that’s not from me. Percy the Pekingese returned home. Mrs. Grantley-Owen dropped by to pay you.”
He opened the file and picked up the pen, only to put it back. “I see you’ve already made the required note, but I’d like to point out that I didn’t threaten anyone. I hadn’t got around to beginning the investigation properly.”
“I thought so, but couldn’t be sure. I know how much you care about animals, and I have seen you be rather threatening when you’re angry.”
He tucked the money into his pocket and closed the file. “Tell me about the murder.”
I began with the moment I heard the gunshot, then told him everything I’d discovered since Esmond Shepherd’s murder and finished with a list of my suspects. “So you see, I need to know what sort of gun fired the bullet that killed him, and if there is a way to know if the bullet was fired from a specific gun.”
“I can’t answer that, but my father probably could. As for the type of gun that was used, was there an exit wound?”
“There wasn’t any blood pooling underneath the body, so I assume not.”
“Then the bullet is still inside. What did the entry wound look like?”
“Neat and rather small.”
“Shotguns produce irregular entries, so we can rule that out. I’d also rule out pistols if you’re sure the shot was fired from a distance. That leaves a rifle.” He reached for the telephone on the desk. “Nothing I just said seems to be news to you.”
“I was reasonably sure it would be a rifle, but I wanted another opinion. I’d still like you to check with your father about ballistics.”
“Do you want Scotland Yard to advise the local sergeant on testing? You made it sound like he’ll follow Lord Kershaw’s wishes and blame the missing man who may or may not be a poacher.”
“He’ll most likely continue to push that angle, so I doubt he’d tell me anything about the bullet, but even so, I’d like to know more about ballistics.”
His eyes gleamed. “Interesting.”
“What is?”
“That I was right, and you came here to see me, not discuss your case. None of this is news to you and knowing about ballistics won’t help if you can’t get access to the bullet or potential murder weapons to perform comparison tests. So, I stand by my initial opinion. You can’t stay away from me, Cleo. You’re thinking up excuses just to visit.”
I folded my arms. “And I stand by my initial opinion that you’re arrogant.”
He suddenly grinned, reminding me in a most delightful way that he had the loveliest dimples. “Whatever your reason for coming, I’m glad you did. Even without a murder to discuss, your company is very welcome.”
