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Chapter 14
I
They had carried Mr Justice Wargrave up to his room and laid him on the
bed.
Then they had come down again and had stood in the hall looking at
each other.
Blore said heavily:
‘What do we do now?’
Lombard said briskly:
‘Have something to eat. We’ve got to eat, you know.’
Once again they went into the kitchen. Again they opened a tin of
tongue. They ate mechanically, almost without tasting.
Vera said:
‘I shall never eat tongue again.’
They finished the meal. They sat round the kitchen table staring at each
other.
Blore said:
‘Only four of us now…Who’ll be the next?’
Armstrong stared. He said, almost mechanically:
‘We must be very careful—’ and stopped.
Blore nodded.
‘That’s what he said…and now he’s dead!’
Armstrong said:
‘How did it happen, I wonder?’
Lombard swore. He said:
‘A damned clever doublecross! That stuff was planted in Miss
Claythorne’s room and it worked just as it was intended to. Everyone
dashes up there thinking she’s being murdered. And so—in the confusion
—someone—caught the old boy off his guard.’
Blore said:
‘Why didn’t anyone hear the shot?’
Lombard shook his head.
‘Miss Claythorne was screaming, the wind was howling, we were run-
ning about and calling out. No, it wouldn’t be heard.’ He paused. ‘But that
trick’s not going to work again. He’ll have to try something else next.’
Blore said:
‘He probably will.’
There was an unpleasant tone in his voice. The two men eyed each
other.
Armstrong said:
‘Four of us, and we don’t know which…’
Blore said:
‘I know…’
Vera said:
‘I haven’t the least doubt…’
Armstrong said slowly:
‘I suppose I do know really…’
Philip Lombard said:
‘I think I’ve got a pretty good idea now…’
Again they all looked at each other…
Vera staggered to her feet. She said:
‘I feel awful. I must go to bed…I’m dead beat.’
Lombard said:
‘Might as well. No good sitting watching each other.’
Blore said:
‘I ’ve no objection…’
The doctor murmured:
‘The best thing to do—although I doubt if any of us will sleep.’
They moved to the door. Blore said:
‘I wonder where that revolver is now?…’
II
They went up the stairs.
The next move was a little like a scene in a farce.
Each one of the four stood with a hand on his or her bedroom door
handle. Then, as though at a signal, each one stepped into the room and
pulled the door shut. There were sounds of bolts and locks, of the moving
of furniture.
Four frightened people were barricaded in until morning.
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