Jane looked at the ropes, and then at her fingernails. She was not a vain person, but they did take an awfully long time to grow if you broke them, and the ropes looked rather solid. “I’m hopeless with knots,” she said. “Perhaps Mr…”
“Harvey,” Danny said.
“…Would do it instead. Please?”
Harvey nodded. “Hold on,” Danny said, “not so fast.” He was secretly pleased to have an opportunity to say that, too, although because of the angle his body was at he didn’t have enough breath to spare to be able to snarl it. “Here, you take the gun and cover him.”
With a tremendous effort, he handed Jane the gun, which was heavy and rather oily. She didn’t take to it much. Harvey untied the knots, and Danny got up.
“Here,” protested the sound recordist, “what about us?”
Harvey untied them, too, until everyone was completely back to normal and the gathering resembled nothing so much as an unsuccessful drinks party. “
“Hey,” he said. “That cat.”
“Which cat?”
“The cat you trod on. It’s still alive.”
Jane frowned at him. “I only trod on its tail,” she said.
“Yes,” Danny replied, “but when the gun went off just now, I’m sure the bullet hit it.” He stooped down and picked something up.
“Look,” Jane said, “I’m sure this is all very interesting, but shouldn’t we be getting along?”
“The bullet,” Danny said, displaying it on the palm of his hand. “This bullet hit that cat.”
“Really? How interesting.”
“Look at it, will you?”
When people are being tiresome, Jane’s mother always told her, it’s usually easiest just to agree. She looked at the bullet. Its nose had been flattened, as if it had hit a wall or something.
“Maybe it hit the wall,” Jane suggested.
“No,” Danny said, “it definitely hit the cat. Like the cat’s…invulnerable, or something.” Like the Professor was, in fact, he remembered.
Jane remembered where they were. “It probably is,” she said. “Look, I promise I’ll explain, but I really do think we ought to be going. Otherwise…” She recollected that she was holding the gun, and she turned and jabbed Harvey with it. “Move,” she said firmly.
Now this is all very well; but what about the sound of the shot? Didn’t Neville come running as soon as he heard it, with Montalban at his heels clutching a baffle-axe and Mrs Carmody bringing up the rear with ropes and chloroform? Not quite. Neville, it seems, was outside checking the oil and tyres of his car when the gun went off, and didn’t hear it. Professor Montalban heard it, but took it for a door slamming and dismissed it from his mind. What Mrs Carmody made of it is not known, but since no action on her part is recorded, we can forget all about her. Mrs Carmody is supremely unimportant.
So when Jane pushed Harvey up the stairs back into the scullery, there was no-one waiting for her. There was no-one in the hallway, either.
She asked Harvey to open the front door and go through it, and then she followed him. All clear so far. Then she caught sight of Neville, bending over the open bonnet of his car and wiping the dipstick on a piece of paper towel. She cleared her throat.
“Excuse me,” she said.
Neville looked up and saw the gun. He registered faint surprise.
“Would you please put your hands up?” Jane asked. “Thanks.” No-one asked him to, but Danny went and relieved Neville of his gun, which he found wedged rather inextricably in Neville’s jacket pocket. The hammer had got caught up in the lining, and he had rather a job getting it out. Danny felt ever so slightly foolish.
“Right,” he said. “Now let’s get out of here.”
“What a perfectly splendid idea,” Jane said, “why didn’t I think of that? My car’s just down the drive.” She prodded Harvey again, but he refused to move.
“You don’t need me for anything now, do you?” he said.
“Look, chum,” Danny snarled, but Jane pointed out that there wouldn’t actually be room for all of them plus Harvey as well in her car without someone getting in the boot, and then she thanked Harvey for his help and said good-bye, firmly. Harvey smiled thinly and walked back to the house.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Danny asked furiously. “Oh do be quiet,” Jane replied. “And put that thing away.” Danny looked terribly hurt and Jane felt embarrassed at being so uncharacteristically rude. It wasn’t like her at all, but he really was getting on her nerves.
“And anyway,” Danny said, “where are we going? Shouldn’t we hold them here until the police come?”
Jane’s guilt evaporated. “Blow the police,” she replied sternly. “We don’t want to go bothering them, do we?”
Danny looked at her. “Why not?”
“Because…” Because if Montalban is arrested and sent to prison it will complicate things terribly, but I can’t possibly explain all that now. “Oh never mind,” she said. “Are you coming or aren’t you?”
“We’re coming,” said the sound recordist. “Can you give us a lift to the nearest station?”
