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something else that Millie noticed. He
looked furious.
    “What do you mean, not possible?” said Mrs Oakengate. “If I
want to leave, I shall leave.”
    “The police are on their way,” Haxby said, pouring another
brandy. He looked as though he was about to drink that down too, but seemed to
change his mind and sipped from it instead.
    “Why?” Alex Markham turned to him. It was clearly news to
him.
    “Because just before she died, Mrs Parker-Trent told me that
she’d been pushed.” Haxby looked around the room, as if searching every face
for a reaction.
    “No!” said Millie, feeling as if she might lose her
equilibrium at any moment. The room seemed to swirl around her. It was even
worse than she had imagined. “That’s awful. But who?”
    “Did she give a name?” asked Barbara. She was sitting next
to Millie, and had reached out her hand and placed it on Millie’s arm, to
steady her.
    Everyone turned to Haxby, in expectation. Millie wondered if
she were the only one considering it might be someone sitting in that very
room.
    “No,” said Haxby. “No, she didn’t mention any names.” Odd
that he said names, thought Millie, and not a name . “I asked her, ‘how
did you fall?’ and she said ‘Not fall. Pushed’. Then I asked her who, but she
passed out.” Something in his face told Millie he was lying. No, not lying,
exactly. Holding something back. Then he looked directly at her, and she felt
the colour rush to her face. Did he think she had done it?
    “Excuse me, Sir,” the butler said, entering the room and
addressing Henry. “There is a policeman at the door. A Detective Inspector
Brady.”
    “Is that Simon Brady?” asked Haxby.
    “I’ve no idea, Sir. I can ask.”
    “No, I’ll come along and find out for myself. I know Brady,”
said Haxby by way of explanation to the others. “If it’s Simon Brady, he used
to work in the West Indies. Good man, and good at his job. He’ll soon get to
the bottom of this.” He was just about to leave the room when he turned back.
“Millie, come with me. Inspector Brady may need to talk to you.”
    Unable to refuse the request, but all too aware of
everyone’s inquisitive glare, Millie followed Haxby out of the room.
    “It is you!” he said, when they reached the hallway. He
greeted Brady warmly. Brady was a good looking man, around Haxby’s age, with a
rugged complexion that spoke of a long time spent in a warm climate. The two
men were instantly at ease with each other.  “May I introduce you to Miss
Millicent Woodbridge. She’ll be helping us with this.”
    “Helping us?” said Brady, grinning. “I know you’ve helped me
in the past, Jim, but this isn’t the colonies. We have to do things a bit more
by the book here.”
    “Of course we’ll do it by the book. I just might interpret
the text slightly differently to you.” He said it as if he would brook no
argument. Brady looked at him levelly, before nodding.
    “I’ve got nothing to do with this,” Millie said. “I walked
back down Masson Hill with you.” The words rushed out, leaving her breathless.
    “It’s alright, Millie. I know you didn’t.” Haxby looked
amused by her outburst.
    They were shown to the library, where they could talk in
private. The two men took a comfortable seat near the fire, whilst Millie sat
on the sofa, still unsure of her role in all this.
    “So,” said Brady, after exchanging the necessary
pleasantries with Millie, “tell me about Hortense Parker-Trent. You say that
she said something to you before she died, Jim?”
    “Yes.” Haxby looked at Millie and smiled slightly. “She told
me that she was pushed. But she also told me something else. She said, ‘I heard
talking. Millie’s father innocent.’”
    “She didn’t say who she heard talking?” asked Brady.
    “No. The poor woman could hardly breathe, and what she said
took a lot of effort.”
    “She told me last night, just before I met you on the
stairs, that she had something to tell