Who Killed Charmian Karslake? Read Online Free Page B

down.”
    â€œWho on earth should want to hurt Charmian Karslake?” Harbord debated. “I have always understood that she had made no friends in London, and kept herself very much to herself. I wonder – is there any reason to suppose she had been followed from America?”
    â€œI know nothing about that,” Inspector Stoddart answered. “The first thing we have to do is to ascertain the names of every man, woman and child who slept in Hepton Abbey last night, and then to see if we can discover any connexion between any of them and Charmian Karslake.”
    â€œSounds rather a tall order,” Harbord observed. “The ball was an extraordinarily large one, I understand.”
    â€œThe ball was, but the house-party was not,” Inspector Stoddart corrected. “Most of the guests came by car. All the neighbouring houses had parties for the occasion; so that, although the house was full, it was not abnormally so.”
    â€œI suppose there is no doubt that the murder was committed by some one in the house,” Harbord hazarded.
    The inspector raised his eyebrows. “No reasonable doubt one would think. There is no sign of the house being broken into, and, yet, there is just this chance which we must not overlook. I hear that the servants testify that all the doors and windows on the ground floor were fastened after the dance and were found in the same state on the morning after the murder. But to my mind that does not rule out one possibility. A stranger to the Penn-Moretons who had some enmity towards Miss Karslake, or who intended to steal her jewels, might have managed to secrete himself in the house while the ball was going on. Then, finding Miss Karslake was awake – for there is ample evidence to prove that she was killed soon after going to her room – and, very probably, attempted to rouse the household, he may have shot her in the scuffle which certainly took place, and managed to get out of the window. On the other hand, Charmian Karslake may have been in somebody’s way and may have been murdered to get rid of her. But why on earth –?”
    â€œIn whose way?” Harbord questioned.
    â€œHow can I tell?” the inspector continued. “There is a snag or two in any theory that I can evolve as yet. However, we shall know more about it in an hour or two.”
    Hepton Abbey was a little more than an hour’s run from town. As the inspector had prophesied, the first edition of the evening papers was procurable at St. Pancras.
    â€œThe murder of Charmian Karslake” in big, black type occupied the front page of most of them. But of details, evidently little was known, nothing was there that the inspector had not already heard, the papers had to content themselves with reprinting the little that had reached them of Charmian Karslake’s career in the States, and giving long accounts of the play in which she had been taking part in London.
    It was already dark when they reached the station for Hepton. Here Sir Arthur Moreton’s car met them, and a run of a very few minutes brought them to the Abbey. They were taken at once to Sir Arthur’s study.
    He greeted Stoddart with outstretched hand. “This is very good of you, Stoddart. I remembered your work in the Craston Diamond Case last year – Lord Craston was a friend of mine, you know – and then there was the Barstow murder. You tracked Skrine down when there did not seem to be the ghost of a clue pointing to him, and I made up my mind to ask specially that you might be sent to us. This affair has got to be probed to the very bottom. That a woman should be murdered in my house and the assassin go unpunished is unthinkable.”
    The inspector permitted himself a slight smile.
    â€œIt has not happened yet, Sir Arthur. And it is early days to think of failure in connexion with Miss Karslake’s death. Now, you are anxious that we should set to work as soon as we can,