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He and Elsie had spent a good deal of their time together. Then
there was the fact that they had been seen together in the pinewoods
by one of the Polish women under rather compromising
circumstances. She may have said something to Clayton, that had
aroused his jealousy. And now – his death. When Clayton had died,
he, Harold, had been in Elsie Clayton's room.
A cold fear gripped him. He did not imagine that either he or
Elsie was in danger of being condemned to death for a murder they
had not committed. But this case would be reported in all the papers.
"An English man and woman accused of murder - jealous husband -
rising politician." Yes, it would mean the end of his political career. It
would never survive a scandal like that.
He said on an impulse:
"What can we do? My God, what can we do?"
Mrs. Rice shook her head despairingly. She said hoarsely:
"Elsie – my little girl. I'll do anything..." And she added: "You
too, your career – everything. I wonder now if something could be
done - "
"Yes?" Harold looked at her eagerly.
Mrs. Rice said abruptly:
"How much money have you got?"
"Not much with me. But I could wire for money, of course."
Mrs. Rice said grimly:
"We may need a good deal. But I think it's worth trying."
Harold felt a faint hope. He said:
"What is your idea?"
Mrs. Rice said decisively:
"We haven't a chance of concealing the death ourselves, but I
do think there's just a chance of hushing it up officially."
"You really think so?"
"Yes, it's my opinion, that in these little Balkan countries you
can bribe anyone and everyone – and the police are probably more
corrupt than anyone else."
Harold said slowly:
"I believe you're right."
Mrs. Rice went on:
"I believe, Harold, it will be possible to hush the whole thing up
- and get Phillip's death certified as due to natural causes! It's just a