CHAPTER 11“If you don’t mind my asking you again, ma’am,” Inspector Bull was saying soberly, “are you sure you didn’t hear anything that sounded odd, or sounds odd now you look back on it, after you went to bed last night?”
“No, Inspector, I’m very sure of it,” Lady Atwater said gently. “I came to the door after Mr. Fleetwood left, and said good night to my husband. His bedroom door was open, but as I’ve told you, I didn’t want to talk to him about this American girl till morning, to give him and his dinner time to settle. Frankly, I thought that after seeing her, and after being so annoyed with my son’s wife, he’d manage as he so frequently did to find a reason for coming round.”
“Did he . . . not like Mrs. Darcy Atwater?”
“He used to think she was wonderful. He’d got to, you see, beca
