And So To Murder by John Dickson Carr Read Free Book Online Page B

all a trap. Somebody – during the course of the shooting – was to pour out a glassful of sulphuric acid, and drink it off in mistake for water. Somebody was to get it spilled over him, or thrown in his face. Was that your idea?’
    Frances Fleur shivered slightly. Throughout this she had not moved; her eyes seemed to have been turned inwards. She lifted her hand and passed it over her thick, glossy black hair, which was parted in the middle and trained down to heavy waves across her cheeks. Then, with her finger-tips, she lightly touched her face.
    It was a suggestive movement. She shivered again.
    Howard Fisk laughed.
    ‘Now listen to the facts, my boy,’ he said firmly. ‘ That water-bottle didn’t figure in the scene at all .’
    ‘Meaning what?’
    ‘Just that. Nobody was to drink a glass of water. Nobody was to pour out a glass of water. In fact, nobody was to touch the bottle or go anywhere near the table. Do you follow that?’
    ‘H’m.’
    ‘The bottle was just a piece of property. In the ordinary course of events, it would have been removed when the set dismantled, emptied, and put away on the shelf. It was only a million-to-one chance that I, in my clumsiness – which I admit – happened to knock the whole thing over. Very well! I know you’ve got imagination, my lad. I admire you for it. But, tut, tut! Suppose somebody did put the stuff there maliciously? Suppose somebody did intend to do damage? What in the world would be the sense of planting a pint of sulphuric acid in the one place where it couldn’t possibly hurt anybody?’
    There was a silence.
    Howard Fisk more than ever resembled a distinguished doctor, expounding something. Little wrinkles radiated from the corners of his eyes behind the pince-nez. He kept his hand on Monica’s shoulder, and his tweed coat was redolent.
    ‘But, hang it all, what did you do?’
    ‘Do? Why, we had the bedding changed and went on,’ said the director simply.
    ‘No. What I mean is: didn’t anybody show the least curiosity as to how the acid got there? Didn’t you inquire into it?’
    ‘Ah, that. Yes, I believe Gagern was trying to.’ He craned his neck round. ‘Gagern was upset about it. I don’t know what he found out. And Hackett, when he got here, had very definite ideas about it: he’s a whirlwind, that fellow is. He seems to think it must have been sabotage.’
    ‘Sabotage?’
    ‘Yes. Spies at Sea ,’ explained the director, to Monica, ‘is very strongly – and, I hope, effectively – anti-Nazi. Hackett seems to think that some “heiling” enthusiast may have tried to put a spoke in it. Tut, tut! That’s no way to go about sabotage. But as for me, I don’t want them to get worried. Besides, we can’t have the ladies alarmed, can we?’ He winked at Frances Fleur. ‘Slowly and easily. Gently, gently. Step by step! That’s the way to do things. I think I can assure you there is absolutely no troub …’
    A voice spoke sharply:
    ‘Howard! Bill! Will you come over here, please?’
    The voice belonged to Mr Hackett. He was standing near the set. There was sweat on his swarthy forehead, and his wiry black hair looked rumpled.
    ‘So!’ observed Cartwright. ‘You may say, if you like, that a bottle of the deadliest corrosive acid known to chemistry knocking about like water is a mere entertaining blunder on the part of the prop department. Nevertheless, I will make a small bet. I will bet you that there is real trouble now, and that Tom Hackett has found the body. Come on. – Will you excuse us for a moment? Frances, I leave Miss Stanton in your charge.’
    Monica watched them go. She was roused by Frances Fleur’s voice.
    ‘Don’t you like Bill Cartwright, my dear?’
    ‘I-beg-pardon?’
    ‘Your expression. It was positively murderous,’ said Miss Fleur, with real interest. ‘Don’t you like him?’
    ‘I loathe him.’
    ‘But why?’
    ‘Don’t let’s talk about him. I – I – Miss Fleur, are you really going to play