He spoke in his light, gay voice, as though his assurance were unperturbed, but Lydia’s heart sank.
She went upstairs to do his bidding.
Madame Berger said never a word.
Robert changed his coat and put on his shoes.
“I shall be back in an hour or two,” he said.
“But don’t wait up for me.”
“Where are you going?” asked his mother.
“They want me to go to the Commissariat.
The Commissaire de Police thinks I may be able to throw some light on the murder of poor Teddie Jordan.”
“What has it got to do with you?”
“Only that, like many others, I knew him.”
Robert left the house with the two detectives.
“You’d better clear the table and help me to wash up,” said Madame Berger.
They washed up and put everything in its place.
Then they sat on each side of the kitchen table to wait.
They did not speak.
They avoided one another’s eyes.
They sat for an interminable time.
The only sound that broke the ominous silence was the striking of the cuckoo clock in the passage.
When it struck three Madame Berger got up.
“He won’t come back to-night.
We’d better go to bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep.
I’d rather wait here.”
“What is the good of that?
It’s only wasting the electric light.
You’ve got something to make you sleep, haven’t you?
Take a couple of tablets.”
With a sigh Lydia rose to her feet.
Madame Berger gave her a frowning glance and burst out angrily:
“Don’t look as if the world was coming to an end.
You’ve got no reason to pull a face like that.
Robert’s done nothing that can get him into trouble.
I don’t know what you suspect.”
Lydia did not answer, but she gave her a look so charged with pain that Madame Berger dropped her eyes.
“Go to bed! Go to bed!” she cried angrily.
Lydia left her and went upstairs.
She lay awake all night waiting for Robert, but he did not come.
When in the morning she came down, Madame Berger had already been out to get the papers.
The Jordan murder was still front-page news, but there was no mention of an arrest; the Commissaire was continuing his investigations.
As soon as she had drunk her coffee Madame Berger went out.
It was eleven before she came back.
Lydia’s heart sank when she saw her drawn face.
“Well?”
“They won’t tell me anything.
I got hold of the lawyer and he’s gone to the Commissariat.”
They were finishing a miserable luncheon when there was a ring at the front door.
Lydia opened it and found Colonel Legrand and a man she had not seen before.
Behind them were two other men, whom she at once recognized as the police officers who had come the night before, and a grim-faced woman.
Colonel Legrand asked for Madame Berger.