Murder of a Lady Read Online Free PDF Page A

Dundas
    Inspector Robert Dundas was a young man with a shrewd expression. His manner of entering the smoking-room at Duchlan announced that he came to conquer. The mixture of cordiality and aloofness in the way he greeted the old laird indicated that he proposed to allow no consideration to interfere with the discharge of his duty.
    He was not very tall, but his slight build made lack of height unimportant. Dr. Hailey thought of the word “wiry”, for there was a hard quality as well as a quality of suppleness. Dundas’s brow and eyes were girlish, but his mouth seemed well fitted to administer a bite. It descended at the corners and was furnished with lips of a singular thinness. Mr. McLeod, who knew the young man, introduced him to John MacCallien and the doctor, and Dundas informed each of these in turn that he was pleased to meet him. He did not look pleased.
    â€œI lost no time, as you see, Fiscal,” he said to Mr. McLeod.
    His manner was quiet, with the pained restraint of an undertaker at work. But his blue eyes searched the room. They chilled when he learned what Dr. Hailey had already done.
    â€œBefore I go upstairs myself,” he stated, “I should like to know who are at present living in this house.” He turned to Duchlan and whipped a thin notebook out of his pocket. “I want a complete list, if you please.”
    The last remark was made in the manner of a doctor taking stock of symptoms, the significance of which can be understood only by himself. Duchlan bowed stiffly.
    â€œI had better begin with myself,” he said. “Then there is my son Eoghan and his wife. I have only four indoor servants…”
    Dundas raised a manicured hand.
    â€œOne moment, please. You are Major Hamish Gregor, late of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, and laird of Duchlan in the county of Argyll?” He wrote quickly as he spoke. “How old are you, sir?”
    â€œSeventy-four.”
    â€œOlder or younger than your late sister?”
    â€œOlder.”
    â€œWhat about your son? He’s an officer in the Army, isn’t he?”
    â€œEoghan is a Captain in the Royal Regiment of Artillery.”
    â€œOn leave?”
    â€œNo. My son returned from Malta a month ago He had been there rather less than a year. He is now carrying out special duties in Ayrshire.”
    â€œI see. So he’s only here for a day or so?”
    â€œHe arrived last night. I am not aware when he must return.”
    â€œAge?”
    â€œThirty-two.”
    â€œIs he your only son?”
    â€œMy only child.”
    â€œYou are a widower, I believe?”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œHow long have you been a widower?”
    Duchlan frowned, but after a moment his brow cleared.
    â€œSince my son was four years of age.”
    â€œTwenty-eight years.”
    â€œQuite so.”
    â€œHas your sister lived with you during the whole of that period?”
    â€œShe has.”
    â€œSo that she brought up your son?”
    â€œYes.”
    The busy pencil appeared to have been outstripped for Dundas asked no more questions until he had written during several minutes. Then he raised his head sharply.
    â€œHow long has your son been married?” he demanded.
    â€œThree years and a few months.”
    â€œAny children?”
    â€œOne boy of two years.”
    â€œHis wife’s name? Full maiden name?”
    â€œOonagh Greenore.”
    â€œIrish?”
    A faint smile appeared on Duchlan’s lips.
    â€œI believe so,” he said gravely.
    â€œDid Mrs. Gregor accompany her husband to Malta?”
    â€œNo, she remained here because of her son.”
    â€œDid she go to Ayrshire with him?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHow old is she?”
    â€œTwenty-four.”
    â€œWas he…” Dundas’s fair head gleamed in the lamplight as he raised it in the quick, uncomfortable way that was apparently habitual—“was she on terms of affection with your