Stephen grinned. ‘You win that round, Inspector, on points.’

Paula shook his arm. ‘Oh, do shut up! What did Blyth say?’

‘Refrain from mauling me about. Under the new circumstances I appear to be the only loser.’

‘Do you mean Uncle Joseph doesn’t pouch the lot?’ she asked incredulously.

‘Far from it. Under the Law of Intestacy, Uncle Nat’s property will be divided equally between his next of kin. That means that Joe will get half, and you and I will share the half that would have gone to Father, were he alive today.’

Her eyes were fixed on his. ‘Are you sure?’

‘No, I’m not sure of anything. That’s what Blyth says.’

She lifted her hands to her temples, pushing back the thick waves of her hair. ‘Good God, then we shall all be rich!’

‘Depends how you look at it. You and Joe will be comparatively rich, while I shall be comparatively poor. Death duties will be heavy. I doubt if it will work out at more than eighty thousand pounds for Joseph, and forty thousand pounds to you and to me.’

‘Will you be able to keep on this place?’ she asked.

‘Hardly. It will be sold, and the proceeds pooled, I suppose.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry about that!’ she said mechanically.

His lips twisted. ‘How sweet of you!’ he mocked. He glanced towards Hemingway. ‘Interested, Inspector?’

‘I’m always interested,’ Hemingway responded.

Maud chose that moment to come into the hall from the wide corridor leading past the billiard-room to the servants’ quarters. She was still carrying her mutilated book, and it was evidently still absorbing her attention, for she said without preamble: ‘They all say they know nothing about it. If you did it, Stephen, it would be more manly of you to own up to it.’

‘God’s teeth, how many more times do you want to be told that I never touched your book?’ Stephen demanded.

‘There is no need to swear,’ Maud said. ‘When I was a girl gentlemen did not use strong language in front of ladies. Of course, times have changed, but I do not think for the better. It’s my belief someone wantonly destroyed this book.’ Her pale gaze drifted to the Inspector’s face. ‘You don’t seem to be doing anything,’ she said, on a note of severity. ‘I think you ought to discover who put my book into the incinerator. It may not seem important to you, but as far as I can see you aren’t getting any further over my brother-in-law’s death, so you might turn your attention to this for a change.’

‘Good God, Aunt, you surely don’t expect Scotland Yard to bother itself about a miserable book!’ exclaimed Paula. ‘We’re all sick and tired of hearing about it!’

‘And I,’ said Maud, quite sharply, ‘am sick and tired of hearing about Nat’s murder, and Nat’s will!’

‘In that case,’ said Stephen, ‘we can’t expect you to be interested in Blyth’s verdict.’

‘No, I am not interested,’ Maud replied. ‘I do not want a large fortune, and I do not want to be obliged to continue living in this house. I shall write to town for a copy of the Life of the Empress at once, and when I have finished reading it, I shall give it to the library in place of this one.’