He pressed her.
"The girl never said anything?
Nothing about jealousy?
About some man she was afraid of?
Or intimate with?"
Adelaide Jefferson shook her head to each query.
There seemed nothing more that she could tell them.
The superintendent suggested that they should interview young George Bartlett and return to see Mr Jefferson later.
Colonel Melchett agreed and the three men went out, Mrs Jefferson promising to send word as soon as Mr Jefferson was awake.
"Nice woman," said the colonel, as they closed the door behind them.
"A very nice lady indeed," said Superintendent Harper.
Chapter 16
George Bartlett was a thin, lanky youth with a prominent Adam apple and an immense difficulty in saying what he meant. He was in such a state of dither that it was hard to get a calm statement from him.
"I say, it is awful, isn't it? Sort of thing one reads about in the Sunday papers, but one doesn't feel it really happens, don't you know?"
"Unfortunately there is no doubt about it, Mr Bartlett," said the superintendent.
"No, no, of course not. But it seems so rum somehow.
And miles from here and everything in some country house, wasn't it? Awfully country and all that.
Created a bit of a stir in the neighbourhood, what?"
Colonel Melchett took charge.
"How well did you know the dead girl, Mr Bartlett?"
George Bartlett looked alarmed.
"Oh, n-n-not well at all, s-s-sir.
No, hardly, if you know what I mean.
Danced with her once or twice, passed the time of day, bit of tennis you know!"
"You were, I think, the last person to see her alive last night?"
"I suppose I was.
Doesn't it sound awful?
I mean she was perfectly all right when I saw her, absolutely."
"What time was that, Mr Bartlett?" "Well, you know, I never know about time. Wasn't very late, if you know what I mean." "You danced with her?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact well, yes, I did. Early on in the evening, though.
Tell you what.
It was just after her exhibition dance with the pro fellow.
Must have been ten, half past, eleven I don't know."
"Never mind the time.
We can fix that.
Please tell us exactly what happened."
"Well, we danced, don'tyou know.
Not that I'm much of a dancer."
"How you dance is not really relevant, Mr Bartlett."
George Bartlett cast an alarmed eye on the colonel and stammered,
"No - er - n-n-no, I suppose it isn't. Well, as I say, we danced round and round, and I talked, but Ruby didn't say very much, and she yawned a bit.
As I say, I don't dance awfully well, and so girls well, inclined to give it a miss, if you know what I mean too. I know where I get off, so I said 'righty ho,' and that was that."
"What was the last you saw of her?"
"She went off upstairs."
"She said nothing about meeting anyone? Or going for a drive? Or - or having a date?" The colonel used the colloquial expression with a slight effort.
Bartlett shook his head. "Not to me." He looked rather mournful. "Just gave me the push."
"What was her manner?
Did she seem anxious, abstracted, anything on her mind?"
George Bartlett considered.
Then he shook his head. "Seemed a bit bored. Yawned, as I said.