The Sittaford Mystery

‘Well,’ said the Major gruffly.

‘What made you select that exact time, Major?’

‘Why shouldn’t I?’ said Burnaby.

‘Well—something must have put it into your head.’

There was quite a pause before Major Burnaby replied. Inspector Narracott’s interest was aroused. The Major had something he quite patently wished to conceal. To watch him doing so was almost ludicrous.

‘Why shouldn’t I say twenty-five past five?’ he demanded truculently, ‘or twenty-five to six—or twenty past four, for that matter?’

‘Quite so, sir,’ said Inspector Narracott soothingly.

He did not wish to antagonize the Major just at this moment. He promised himself that he would get to the bottom of the matter before the day was out.

‘There’s one thing that strikes me as curious, sir,’ he went on.

‘Yes?’

‘This business of the letting of Sittaford House. I don’t know what you think about it, but it seems to me a curious thing to have happened.’

‘If you ask me,’ said Burnaby, ‘it’s damned odd.’

‘That’s your opinion?’

‘It’s everyone’s opinion.’

‘In Sittaford?’

‘In Sittaford and Exhampton too. The woman must be mad.’

‘Well, I suppose there’s no accounting for tastes,’ said the Inspector.

‘Damned odd taste for a woman of that kind.’

‘You know the lady?’

‘I know her. Why, I was at her house when—’

‘When what?’ asked Narracott as the Major came to an abrupt halt.

‘Nothing,’ said Burnaby.

Inspector Narracott looked at him keenly. There was something here he would have liked to get at. The Major’s obvious confusion and embarrassment did not escape him. He had been on the point of saying—what?

‘All in good time,’ said Narracott to himself. ‘Now isn’t the moment to rub him up the wrong way.’

Aloud he said innocently:

‘You were at Sittaford House, you say, sir. The lady has been there now—about how long?’

‘A couple of months.’

The Major was eager to escape the result of his imprudent words. It made him more loquacious than usual.

‘A widow lady with her daughter?’

‘That’s it.’

‘Does she give any reason for her choice of residence?’

‘Well—’ the Major rubbed his nose dubiously. ‘She talks a lot, she’s that kind of woman—beauties of nature—out of the world—that sort of thing. But—’

He paused rather helplessly. Inspector Narracott came to his rescue.

‘It didn’t strike you as natural on her part?’

‘Well, it’s like this. She’s a fashionable sort of woman. Dressed up to the nines—daughter’s a smart, pretty girl. Natural thing would be for them to be staying at the Ritz or Claridge’s, or some other big hotel somewhere. You know the sort.’

Narracott nodded.

‘They don’t keep themselves to themselves, do they?’ he asked. ‘You don’t think they are—well—hiding?’

Major Burnaby shook his head positively.

‘Oh! no, nothing of that kind. They’re very sociable—a bit too sociable. I mean, in a little place like Sittaford, you can’t have previous engagements, and when invitations are showered on you it’s a bit awkward. They’re exceedingly kind, hospitable people, but a bit too hospitable for English ideas.’

‘The Colonial touch,’ said the Inspector.

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘You’ve no reason to think they were previously acquainted with Captain Trevelyan?’

‘Sure they weren’t.’

‘You seem very positive?’

‘Joe would have told me.’

‘And you don’t think their motive could have been—well—to scrape acquaintance with the Captain?’

This was clearly a new idea to the Major. He pondered over it for some minutes.

‘Well, I never thought of that. They were very gushing to him, certainly. Not that they got any change out of Joe. But no, I think it was just their usual manner. Over friendly, you know, like Colonials are,’ added the super-insular soldier.

‘I see. Now, as to the house itself. Captain Trevelyan built that, I understand?’

‘Yes.’