“Spotting them grouped around Hatfield, she recognized the rough-complexioned, auburn-haired policeman who had interrogated Rule at the station, and her heart began to pound. “I told them his lordship was not at home, my lady,” the butler informed her as she approached. “Thank you, Hat. I’ll speak to Constable McGregor.” She turned to the policeman. “If you will please follow me.” Leading the three men into a drawing room where they would not be overheard, she waited while Hatfield closed the do...or. “I’m sorry, Constable McGregor, but as our butler told you, my husband is not at home.” “When do you expect his return?” Violet took a breath. She didn’t want to lie, but neither did she want them putting Rule under arrest. “What do you want with him?” “We need him to come down to the station and answer a few more questions.” She pasted on what she hoped looked like a smile. “Perhaps I can be of help.” “Not unless you can tell us about the argument your husband had with Charles Whitney the night before the murder.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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