behind the desk.
âThe bullets went in here,â he said. His eye dropped to the desk and the chair behind it. âMust have been a near miss,â he said grimly.
âI lost my head. I didnât rightly know what I was doing. I thought heâd done me out of my rights. I thoughtââ
Miss Marple put in the question she had been wanting to ask for some time.
âWho told you,â she asked, âthat Mr. Serrocold was your father?â
Just for a second, a sly expression peeped out of Edgarâs distracted face. It was there and gone in a flash.
âNobody,â he said. âI just got it into my head.â
Walter Hudd was staring down at the revolver where it lay on the floor.
âWhere the hell did you get that gun?â he demanded.
âGun?â Edgar stared down at it.
âLooks mighty like my gun,â said Walter. He stooped down and picked it up. âBy heck, it is! You took it out of my room, you creeping louse you.â
Lewis Serrocold interposed between the cringing Edgar and the menacing American.
âAll this can be gone into later,â he said. âAh, hereâs Maverick. Take a look at him, will you, Maverick?â
Dr. Maverick advanced upon Edgar with a kind of professional zest. âThis wonât do, Edgar,â he said. âThis wonât do, you know.â
âHeâs a dangerous lunatic,â said Mildred sharply. âHeâs been shooting off a revolver and raving. He only just missed my stepfather.â
Edgar gave a little yelp and Dr. Maverick said reprovingly:
âCareful, please, Mrs. Strete.â
âIâm sick of all this. Sick of the way you all go on here! I tell you this manâs a lunatic.â
With a bound, Edgar wrenched himself away from Dr. Maverick and fell to the floor at Serrocoldâs feet.
âHelp me. Help me. Donât let them take me away and shut me up. Donât let themâ¦.â
An unpleasing scene, Miss Marple thought.
Mildred said angrily, âI tell you heâsââ
Her mother said soothingly,
âPlease, Mildred. Not now. Heâs suffering.â
Walter muttered,
âSuffering cripes! Theyâre all cuckoo round here.â
âIâll take charge of him,â said Dr. Maverick. âYou come with me, Edgar. Bed and a sedativeâand weâll talk everything over in the morning. Now you trust me, donât you?â
Rising to his feet and trembling a little, Edgar looked doubtfully at the young doctor and then at Mildred Strete.
âShe saidâI was a lunatic.â
âNo, no, youâre not a lunatic.â
Miss Belleverâs footsteps rang purposefully across the Hall. She came in with her lips pursed together and a flushed face.
âIâve telephoned the police,â she said grimly. âThey will be here in a few minutes.â
Carrie Louise cried, âJolly!â in tones of dismay.
Edgar uttered a wail.
Lewis Serrocold frowned angrily.
âI told you, Jolly, I did not want the police summoned. This is a medical matter.â
âThatâs as may be,â said Miss Bellever. âIâve my own opinion. But I had to call the police. Mr. Gulbrandsenâs been shot dead.â
Eight
I t was a moment or two before anyone took in what she was saying.
Carrie Louise said incredulously:
âChristian shot? Dead? Oh, surely, thatâs impossible.â
âIf you donât believe me,â said Miss Bellever, pursing her lips, and addressing not so much Carrie Louise, as the assembled company, âgo and look for yourselves.â
She was angry. And her anger sounded in the crisp sharpness of her voice.
Slowly, unbelievingly, Carrie Louise took a step towards the door. Lewis Serrocold put a hand on her shoulder.
âNo, dearest, let me go.â
He went out through the doorway. Dr. Maverick, with a doubtful glance at Edgar, followed him. Miss Bellever went with