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Overview of Industrial Process Automation
This page intentionally left blank

     
Overview of Industrial
Process Automation
Second edition

KLS Sharma
Automation Education and Training,
Bengaluru, India

AMSTERDAM • BOSTON • HEIDELBERG • LONDON • NEW YORK

OXFORD • PARIS • SAN DIEGO • SAN FRANCISCO • SINGAPORE
SYDNEY • TOKYO
Elsevier
Radarweg 29, PO Box 211, 1000 AE Amsterdam, Netherlands
The Boulevard, Langford Lane, Kidlington, Oxford OX5 1GB, United Kingdom
50 Hampshire Street, 5th Floor, Cambridge, MA 02139, United States

Copyright © 2017, 2011 Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage
and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Details on how to
seek permission, further information about the Publisher’s permissions policies and our arrangements with
organizations such as the Copyright Clearance Center and the Copyright Licensing Agency, can be found
at our website: www.elsevier.com/permissions.

This book and the individual contributions contained in it are protected under copyright by the Publisher
(other than as may be noted herein).

Cover page background image courtesy: Yokogawa, India (www.yokogawa.com/in) and Bosch
Rexroth, India (www.boshrexroth.co.in)

Notices
Knowledge and best practice in this field are constantly changing. As new research and
experience broaden our understanding, changes in research methods, professional practices,
or medical treatment may become necessary.

Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in
evaluating and using any information, methods, compounds, or experiments described herein. In using
such information or methods they should be mindful of their own safety and the
safety of others, including parties for whom they have a professional responsibility.

To the fullest extent of the law, neither the Publisher nor the authors, contributors, or
editors, assume any liability for any injury and/or damage to persons or property as a matter of products
liability, negligence or otherwise, or from any use or operation of any methods, products, instructions, or
ideas contained in the material herein.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN: 978-0-12-805354-6

For information on all Elsevier publications visit

our website at https://www.elsevier.com/

Publisher: Joe Hayton

Acquisition Editor: Sonnini R Yura
Editorial Project Manager: Ana Claudia Abad Garcia
Production Project Manager: Mohanambal Natarajan
Cover Designer: Greg Harris

Typeset by TNQ Books and Journals

Dedication

This book is dedicated to ABB India, where the author learned

and practiced automation for over 24 years.
This page intentionally left blank

     
Contents

About the Author xiii

Forewordxv
Preface to the First Edition xix
Preface to the Second Edition xxiii
Acknowledgmentsxxix

1 Why Automation? 1
1.1 Introduction 1
1.2 Physical Processes 2
1.3 Localized and Distributed Processes 4
1.4 Process Behavior 6
1.5 Process Management 7
1.6 Process Signals 9
1.7 Automation Steps 12
1.8 Needs met by Automation 12
1.9 Benefits of Automation 13
1.10 Summary 14

2 Automation System Structure 15

2.1 Introduction 15
2.2 Subsystems 15
2.3 Input Instrumentation Subsystem 18
2.4 Output Instrumentation Subsystem 19
2.5 Human Interface Subsystem 20
2.6 Control Subsystem 21
2.7 Summary 23

3 Instrumentation Subsystems 25
3.1 Introduction 25
3.2 Structure 26
3.3 Signal Interfacing Standards 34
3.4 Input Data Reliability Enhancement 35
3.5 Isolation and Protection 35
3.6 Summary 38
viii Contents

4 Human Interface Subsystem 39

4.1 Introduction 39
4.2 Operator Panel 39
4.3 Construction 42
4.4 Summary 44

5 Control Subsystem 45
5.1 Introduction 45
5.2 Structure 45
5.3 Interfacing 46
5.4 Summary 51

6 Automation Strategies 53
6.1 Introduction 53
6.2 Basic Strategies 55
6.3 Advanced Strategies 63
6.4 Summary 74

7 Programmable Control Subsystems 75

7.1 Introduction 75
7.2 Soft-wired or Microprocessor Technology 76
7.3 Automation Strategy Implementation 82
7.4 Upward Compatibility 98
7.5 Summary 98

8 Data Acquisition and Control Unit: Hardware 99

8.1 Introduction 99
8.2 Basic Modules 101
8.3 Functional Modules 103
8.4 DACU Capacity Expansion 115
8.5 System Cables 118
8.6 Integrated Assemblies 120
8.7 DACU Construction 120
8.8 Data Exchange on Bus 121
8.9 Summary 122

9 Data Acquisition and Control Unit: Software 125

9.1 Introduction 125
9.2 Software Structure 126
9.3 Application Programming 128
9.4 Summary 149

10 Advanced Human Interface 151

10.1 Introduction 151
10.2 Operator Station 152
Contents ix

10.3 Features of Operator Station 156

10.4 Comparison with Operator Panel 164
10.5 Enhanced Operator Stations 164
10.6 Engineering and Maintenance Stations 167
10.7 Logging Stations 168
10.8 Control Desk 169
10.9 Modern Control Center 169
10.10 Summary 170

11 Types of Automation Systems 171

11.1 Introduction 171
11.2 Localized Process 171
11.3 Distributed Process 174
11.4 Supervisory Control and Data Acquisition 180
11.5 Summary 183

12 Special-Purpose Data Acquisition and Control Units 185

12.1 Introduction 185
12.2 Localized/Centralized Processes 185
12.3 Remote/Distributed Processes 191
12.4 Other Variants 196
12.5 Summary 200

13 System Availability Enhancements 203

13.1 Introduction 203
13.2 Standby Schemes 204
13.3 Distributed Control System 206
13.4 Network Control System 211
13.5 Input–Output Redundancy 214
13.6 Summary 215

14 Common Configurations 217

14.1 Introduction 217
14.2 Distributed Control System Configurations 217
14.3 Network Control System Configurations 220
14.4 Real-Time Data Availability 220
14.5 Summary 221

15 Customization 223
15.1 Introduction 224
15.2 Hardware Selection 225
15.3 Hardware Engineering 228
15.4 System Engineering 228
15.5 Application Programming 230
15.6 Power Supply Systems 230
15.7 Summary 235
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x Contents

16 Data Communication and Networking 237

16.1 Introduction 238
16.2 Communication Networks 238
16.3 Signal Transmission 240
16.4 Data Transmission 243
16.5 Data Communication Protocol 246
16.6 Interprocess Communication 254
16.7 Cyber Security 258
16.8 Safe and Redundant Networks 260
16.9 Summary 261

17 Fieldbus Technology 263

17.1 Introduction 263
17.2 Centralized Input–Output 264
17.3 Remote Input–Output 266
17.4 Fieldbus Input–Output 269
17.5 Fieldbus Communication 274
17.6 Fieldbus Device Integration 282
17.7 Other Networks 286
17.8 Asset Management 289
17.9 Summary 290

18 Safety Systems 293

18.1 Introduction 293
18.2 Process Safety Management 294
18.3 Machine Safety Management 310
18.4 Summary 318

19 Management of Industrial Processes 321

19.1 Introduction 322
19.2 Classification of Industrial Processes 322
19.3 Manufacturing Processes 325
19.4 Utility Processes 341
19.5 Industrial Robotics 351
19.6 Summary 357

20 Information Technology–Operation Technology Convergence 359

20.1 Introduction 359
20.2 Operation Technology and Information Technology 361
20.3 Before Convergence 362
20.4 After Convergence 363
20.5 ISA 95 Standard 366
20.6 New Developments 368
20.7 Summary 375
Contents xi

21 Concluding Remarks 377

21.1 Introduction 377
21.2 Basic Functionalities 379
21.3 Extended Functionalities 380
21.4 Emerging Trends 382
21.5 Summary 385

Appendix A: Hardwired Control Subsystem 387

Appendix B: Processor 411
Appendix C: Hardware–Software Interfacing 421
Appendix D: Basics of Programming 431
Index447
This page intentionally left blank

     
About the Author

KLS Sharma graduated from University of Mysuru, India, and received his masters
and doctoral degrees from the Indian Institute of Technology, Delhi, India.

He has worked for the following organizations:

• Technical manager, Electronics Corporation of India, Hyderabad, India
• Assistant vice president, ABB, Bengaluru, India
• Consultant, Honeywell Technology Solutions Lab, Bengaluru, India
• Professor, International Institute of Information Technology, Bengaluru, India
• Professor emeritus, MS Ramaiah Institute of Technology, Bengaluru, India
• Member, Campus Connect Program, Automation Industry Association of India, Delhi, India
• Distinguished visiting professor, National Institute of Technology Karnataka, Surathkal, India

His current positions are:

• Advisor, Automation Education and Training, Bengaluru, India
• Principal
consultant, Advanced Engineering Group, Infosys, Bengaluru, India
• Member, Editorial Advisory Board, A&D Magazine on Industrial Automation, Pune, India

Association
• Senior member, International Society of Automation (ISA)

Awards and Recognitions

• ISA Celebrating Excellence Member’s Choice Award for Student Mentor of the Year 2015.
This page intentionally left blank

     
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
 “Heaven only knows,” Roger replied laconically. “No, perhaps on
second thoughts I don’t. We mustn’t forget that Jefferson couldn’t
find those keys this morning. Unless that was a blind, by Jove! I
never thought of that. Or he might have forgotten something
important and wanted to get at the safe again, not realising that he’d
put the keys back in the wrong pocket.”
“I suppose,” Alec said slowly, “that Jefferson is the only person
inside the house that you would suspect of having done it?”
“No, I’m hanged if he is,” Roger retorted with energy.
“Oh! Who else then?”
“I’m suspecting everybody at present; put it like that. Everybody
and everything within these four walls.”
“Well, look here, don’t forget your promise, mind. No decisive
steps to be taken without me, eh?”
“Yes, but look here, Alec,” Roger said seriously, “you really
mustn’t stand out unnecessarily if I might want to take steps that
don’t altogether meet with your approval. We’re playing a very grave
game, you know, and we can’t treat it as a joy-trip and only do the
bits we like and leave out all the nasty part.”
“Yes,” Alec said, a little reluctantly. “I see that. I won’t make a fuss
about anything unnecessarily. But we must go on working together.”
“Right!” Roger answered promptly. “That’s a bargain, then. Well,
look here, there’s one thing we ought to have done earlier, but it
quite slipped my memory. We must have a look for that possible
second cartridge case. Personally I don’t believe there is one; I think
there was one shot fired from each revolver. But it’s a possibility, and
we ought not to overlook it.”
“Rather a tall order, isn’t it? It might be anywhere in the whole
grounds.”
“Yes, but there’s only one place that it’s any use to search—the
library. If we can’t find it there, we’ll give it up.”
“Very well.”
“Oh, Alexander,” Roger observed unhappily, as they strolled back
to the library. “Alexander, we’re very terribly handicapped in this little
problem, as Holmes would call it.”
“In what way particularly?”
 “Not knowing the motive for the murder. If we could only get at
that, it would simplify matters tremendously. Why, I dare say we
could put our hands on the criminal at once. That’s the way all these
murder cases are solved, both in real life and in fiction. Establish
your motive, and work back from that. We’re groping utterly in the
dark, you see, till we’ve found that.”
“And you haven’t any idea of it at all? Not even a guess?”
“Not a one. Or, rather, too many. It’s impossible to say with a man
like Stanworth. After all, what do we know about him, beyond that he
was a cheery old gentleman and kept an excellent cellar? Nothing!
He might have been a lady-killer, and it may be a case of the jealous
husband, with Lady Stanworth and Jefferson in the know after it had
happened, and hushing it up for the sake of the name.”
“I say, that’s a good idea! Do you really think it was that? I
shouldn’t be a bit surprised.”
“It’s possible, but I shouldn’t say it was likely. He was rather too
old to be acting as Lothario, wasn’t he? Or again it might have been
somebody whom he ruined in business (I shouldn’t say his methods
were any too scrupulous) and a somewhat drastic revenge, with the
other two also knowing what had happened and keeping quiet about
it for reasons that we don’t know anything about. But what’s the use?
There are a hundred theories, all equally possible and plausible, to fit
the very meagre array of facts that we’ve got in our possession.”
“We are in a bit of a fog, yes,” Alec agreed as they entered the
library.
“But there’s rather more light I think, already, than an hour or two
ago,” Roger replied cheerfully. “No, when all’s said and done, we
haven’t done so badly as yet, what with luck and certain other things
which modesty forbids me to mention. And now for this cartridge
case, and let’s pray that we shan’t be interrupted.”
For some minutes they searched diligently in silence. Then Alec
scrambled up from his knees beside the little typist’s table and
inspected his hands ruefully.
“No sign of it,” he said, “and I’m in a filthy mess. I don’t think it
can be in here, do you?”
Roger was investigating the cushions of the big settee.
 “Afraid not,” he replied. “I hardly expected it, but—— Hullo,
what’s this?”
He drew out a small piece of white material from between two of
the loose cushions and inspected it with interest.
Alec strolled across the room and joined him. “It looks like a
woman’s handkerchief,” he said carefully.
“More than that, Alexander; it is a woman’s handkerchief. Now
what on earth is a woman’s handkerchief doing in Stanworth’s
library?”
“I expect she left it here,” Alec remarked wisely.
“Alec, this is positive genius! I see it all now. She must have left it
here. And there was I thinking that she’d sent it by post, with special
instructions for it to be placed between those cushions in case she
ever wanted to find it there!”
“You are funny, aren’t you?” Alec growled wearily.
“Occasionally,” Roger admitted modestly, “quite. But reverting to
the handkerchief, I wonder whether this is going to prove rather
important. What do you think?”
“How could it?”
“I’m not quite sure yet, but I have a sort of feeling. It all depends
on several things. Whose handkerchief it is, for instance, and when
this settee was tidied up last, and when the owner of the
handkerchief admits she was in here last, and—— Oh, quite a large
number of things.” He sniffed at the handkerchief delicately. “H’m! I
seem to know that scent, at all events.”
“You do?” Alec asked eagerly. “Who uses it?”
“That unfortunately I don’t appear to remember for the moment,”
Roger confessed reluctantly. “Still, we ought to be able to find that
out with a few discreet inquiries.”
He put the handkerchief carefully in his breast pocket, crumpling
it into a small ball so as to retain as much of the scent as possible.
“But I think the first thing to do,” he continued, when it was safely
bestowed, “is to examine this settee rather more minutely. You never
know what you’re going to find, apparently.”
Without disturbing the cushions further, he began a careful
scrutiny of the back and arms. It was not long before he found
himself rewarded.
 “Look!” he exclaimed suddenly, pointing at a place on the left
arm. “Powder! See? Face powder, for a sovereign. Now I wonder
what on earth that’s got to tell us, if we only know how to read it.”
Alec bent and examined the place. A very faint smudge of white
powder stood out upon the black surface of the cloth.
“You’re sure that’s face powder?” he asked, a little incredulously.
“How can you tell?”
“I can’t,” Roger admitted cheerfully. “It might be French chalk. But
I’m sure it is face powder. Let me see, face powder just on the inner
curve of the arm; what does that mean? Or talking about arms,
perhaps it’s arm powder. They do powder their arms, don’t they?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“Well, you ought to,” Roger said severely. “You’re engaged, aren’t
you?”
“No,” Alec replied mournfully. After all, Roger would have to know
some time that the engagement had been broken off.
Roger stared at him in amazement. “No? But you got engaged to
Barbara yesterday, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” said Alec, still more mournfully. “But we broke it off to-day.
Or postponed it, rather, It may be on again in a month or so, I hope.”
“But why, in the name of goodness?”
“Oh, for—for certain reasons,” Alec said lamely. “We decided it
was the best thing to do. Er—private reasons, you know.”
“Good Lord, I’m awfully sorry to hear it, old man,” said Roger
genuinely. “I hope things will come all right for you in the end; and if
there’s anything in the world that I can do, you know you’ve only got
to say the word. There isn’t a couple anywhere that I’d sooner see
fixed up than you and Barbara. You’re quite the nicest two people I
know.” Roger was in the habit of disregarding the convention that a
man should never under any circumstances display emotion in the
presence of another man, just as heartily as he violated all other
conventions.
Alec flushed with pleasure. “Thanks awfully, old chap,” he said
gruffly. “I knew I could rely on you. But really, there isn’t anything you
could possibly do. And things will come out all right, I feel sure.”
“Well, I sincerely hope so, or I’ll wring young Barbara’s neck for
her,” said Roger; and both men knew that the topic was closed, until
or unless Alec himself chose to reopen it.
“And about this powder?” Alec prompted.
“Ah, yes. I hadn’t finished with the settee, had I? Well, let’s see if
there’s anything more to be found first.”
He bent over the couch again, only to look up the next instant.
“See this?” he said, indicating a long fair hair in the angle
between the arm and the back. “There has been a woman sitting
here recently. This confirms the face powder. What an extraordinarily
lucky thing that we thought of searching the place for that cartridge
case. It would never have done to have missed this. I have an idea
that this woman is going to be more useful to us than fifty cartridge
cases.” And taking a letter out of his pocket he drew out the sheet of
paper and carefully placed the hair in the envelope. “They always do
this in books,” he explained, observing Alec’s interested gaze, “so I
suppose it’s the right thing to do.”
“And what are you going to do next?” Alec asked, as the
envelope followed the handkerchief into Roger’s breast pocket.
“You’ve only got about half an hour before dinner time, you know.”
“Yes. I’m going to try and find out if I can when this settee was
last tidied up; that seems to me the point on which everything
depends. After that I’ve got to spot the owner of the handkerchief.”
“By the scent? There are no initials on it.”
“By the scent. This is the sort of occasion when being a dog must
come in so useful,” Roger added reflectively.
 CHAPTER XIX.
Mr. Sheringham Loses and Wins the
Same Bet
At the top of the stairs the two parted, Alec going to his own room
and Roger to his. Arrived there, the latter did not proceed
immediately with his changing; for some moments he leaned, deep
in thought, on the window-sill overlooking the garden. Then, as if he
had come to a decision, he crossed the room briskly and rang the
bell.
A cheerful, plump young person answered it and smiled
questioningly. Roger was always a favourite with servants; if not
always with gardeners.
“Oh, hullo, Alice. I say, I seem to have lost my fountain pen. You
haven’t seen it about anywhere, have you?”
The girl shook her head. “No, sir, that I haven’t. It wasn’t in here
when I did the room this morning, I’m sure.”
“H’m! That’s a nuisance. I’ve missed it since last night. The last
time I remember having it was in the library a short time before
dinner. I wonder if I can have left it in there. Do you do the library?”
“Oh, no, sir. I only do the bedrooms. Mary does the downstairs
rooms.”
“I see. Well, do you think I could have a word with Mary, if she’s
not too busy? Perhaps you could send her up here?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll tell her at once.”
“Thank you, Alice.”
In due course Mary made her appearance.
“I say, Mary,” Roger remarked confidentially, “I’ve lost my fountain
pen, and Alice tells me that she hasn’t come across it in here. Now
the last time I had it was in the library yesterday, some time between
tea and dinner; I’ve been looking round for it in there, but I can’t see
it. I suppose you haven’t tidied up the library since then, or seen
anything of it?”
“Yes, sir, I tidied up the library last night while they were in at
dinner. And little did I think when I was doing it that——”
“Yes, quite so,” Roger put in soothingly. “Shocking business! But
what did the tidying up consist of, Mary? I mean, if it was only
cursory you might not have noticed the pen. What did you do
exactly?”
“Well, sir, I put the chairs straight and tidied up the cigarette ends
in the hearth and emptied the ashtrays.”
“What about the settee? I remember sitting on the settee with the
pen in my hand.”
“It wasn’t there then, sir,” Mary said with decision. “I took up all
the cushions and shook them, and there wasn’t anything there. I
should have noticed it if there had been.”
“I see. You did the settee quite thoroughly, in fact? Brushed it,
and all that sort of thing?”
“Yes, sir. I always run a brush over the settee and the armchairs
of an evening. They get so terribly dusty with all those windows, and
that black rep shows the dust up something awful.”
“Well, thank you, Mary. I suppose I must have left it somewhere
else, after all. By the way, you haven’t done the library at all to-day,
have you?”
“No, sir,” Mary replied with a little shiver. “Nor wouldn’t like to; not
alone, at all events. Creepy, I should call it, sir, with that poor
gentleman sitting there all night like a——”
“Yes, yes,” said Roger with mechanical haste. “Shocking! Well,
I’m sorry to have brought you all this way for nothing, Mary; but if you
ever come across it, you might let me know.”
“Yes, sir,” Mary said with a pleasant smile. “Thank you, sir.”
“And that is that!” Roger murmured confidentially to the closing
door.
He completed his changing as rapidly as possible and, hurrying
along to Alec’s room, recounted the facts he had just learnt.
“So you see,” he concluded, “that woman must have been in the
library some time after dinner. Now who was it? Barbara was with
you in the garden, of course; so she’s out of the running. That leaves
Mrs. Shannon, Mrs. Plant, and Lady Stanworth—if it was somebody
in the house, by the way,” he added thoughtfully. “I never thought of
that.”
Alec paused in the act of tying his black tie to look round
interrogatively.
“But what’s all this getting at?” he asked. “Is there any particular
reason why one of those three shouldn’t have been in the library
yesterday evening?”
“No, not exactly. But it rather depends on who it is. If it was Lady
Stanworth, for instance, I shouldn’t say there was anything in it;
unless she specifically denied that she went into the library at all. On
the other hand, if it was someone from outside the household it
might be decidedly important. Oh, it’s too vague to explain, but what
I feel is that this is the emergence of a new fact—the presence of a
woman in the library yesterday evening. And a woman sitting down
at that, not just passing through. Therefore, like every other fact in
the case, it has got to be investigated. It may turn out to be
absolutely in order. On the other hand, it may not. That’s all.”
“It’s certainly vague, as you say,” Alec commented, fastening his
waistcoat. “And when do you expect to spot the woman?”
“Possibly the end of dinner. I shall sniff delicately and
unobtrusively at Lady Stanworth and Mrs. Plant, and if it isn’t either
of them, it may be Mrs. Shannon. If that’s the case, of course there’s
no importance to be attached to it at all; but if it isn’t any of them, I
don’t know what I shall do. I can’t go dashing all over the county,
sniffing at strange women, can I? It might lead to all sorts of
awkward complications. Hurry up, Alexander, the bell went at least
five minutes ago.”
“I’m ready,” Alec said, glancing at his well-flattened hair in the
mirror with approval. “Lead on.”
The others were already waiting for them when they arrived in the
drawing room, and the party went in to dinner at once. Lady
Stanworth was present, to all appearances unmoved, but even more
silent than usual; and her presence laid an added constraint on the
little gathering.
 Roger tried hard to keep the ball rolling, and both Mrs. Plant and
Jefferson did their best in their respective ways to second him, but
Alec for some reason was almost as quiet as his hostess. Glancing
now and again at his preoccupied face, Roger concluded that the
rôle of amateur detective was proving highly uncongenial to that
uncompromisingly straightforward young man. Probably the
introduction of this new feminine question regarding the ownership of
the handkerchief was upsetting him again.
“Did you notice,” Roger remarked casually, addressing himself to
Jefferson, “when the inspector was questioning us this morning, how
very difficult it is to remember the things that have occurred, even
only twenty-four hours before, if they were not sufficiently important
to impress one in any way?”
“Yes, I know what you mean,” Jefferson agreed. “Noticed it often
myself.”
Roger glanced at him curiously. It was a strange position, this
sort of armed and forced friendliness between Jefferson and himself.
If the former had heard much of that conversation by the lattice
window, he must know Roger for his enemy; and in any case the
disappearance of the footprint showed that he was thoroughly on his
guard. Yet not the faintest trace of this appeared in his manner. He
behaved towards both of them exactly as he always had done; no
more and no less. Roger could not help admiring the man’s nerve.
“Especially as regards movements,” he resumed
conversationally. “I often have the very greatest trouble in
remembering exactly where I was at a certain time. Last night wasn’t
so difficult, because I was in the garden from the end of dinner till I
went up to bed. But take your case, for instance, Lady Stanworth. I’m
prepared to bet quite a reasonable sum that you couldn’t say, without
stopping to think, exactly what rooms you visited yesterday evening
between the end of dinner and going up to bed.”
Out of the tail of his eye Roger noticed a quick look flash between
Lady Stanworth and Jefferson. It was as if the latter had warned her
of the possibility of a trap.
“Then I am afraid you would lose your bet, Mr. Sheringham,” she
replied calmly, after a momentary pause. “I remember perfectly.
From the dining room I went into the drawing room, where I sat for
about half an hour. Then I went into the morning room to discuss
certain of the accounts with Major Jefferson, and after that I went
upstairs.”
“Oh, that’s altogether too easy,” Roger laughed. “It’s not playing
fair. You ought to have visited far more rooms than that to make the
game a success. What about you, then, Mrs. Plant? Shall I transfer
the bet to you?”
“You’d lose again if you did,” Mrs. Plant smiled. “I was only in one
room, worse still. I stayed in the drawing room the whole time till I
met you in the hall on my way upstairs. There! What was the bet, by
the way?”
“I shall have to think of that. A handkerchief, I think, don’t you?
Yes, I owe you a handkerchief.”
“What a poor little bet!” Mrs. Plant laughed. “I wouldn’t have taken
it if I’d known it was going to be so unremunerative.”
“Well, I’ll throw in a bottle of scent to go with it, shall I?”
“That would be better, certainly.”
“Better stop there, Sheringham,” Jefferson put in. “She’ll have got
on to gloves before you know where you are.”
“Oh, I’m drawing the line at scent. What’s your favourite brand, by
the way, Mrs. Plant?”
“Amour des Fleurs,” Mrs. Plant replied promptly. “A guinea a
bottle!”
“Oh! Remember, I’m only a poor author.”
“Well, you asked for my favourite, so I told you. But that isn’t the
one I generally use.”
“Ah, now we’re getting warmer. Something about elevenpence a
bottle is more like my mark.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to pay just a little more than that. Parfum
Jasmine; nine and sixpence. And it will serve you right.”
“I shan’t bet with you again, Mrs. Plant,” Roger retorted with mock
severity. “I hate people who win bets against me. It isn’t fair.”
For the rest of dinner Roger seemed to be a little preoccupied.
As soon as the ladies had left the room, he strolled over to the
open French windows which, like those of the library on the other
side, led out on to the lawn.
 “I think a smoke in the open air is indicated,” he observed
carelessly. “Coming, Alec? What about you, Jefferson?”
“No rest for me, I’m afraid,” Jefferson replied with a smile. “I’m up
to the eyes in it.”
“Straightening things up?”
“Trying to; they’re in a dreadful muddle.”
“Finances, you mean?”
“Yes, that and everything. He always managed his own affairs
and this is the first time I’ve seen his passbooks and the rest. As he
appeared to have accounts at no less than five different banks, you
can understand something of what I’ve got to wade through.”
Jefferson’s manner was perfectly friendly and open, almost frank.
“That’s funny. I wonder why he did that. And have you found any
reason for his killing himself?”
“None,” said Jefferson candidly. “In fact, the whole thing
absolutely beats me. It’s the last thing you’d have expected of old
Stanworth, if you’d known him as well as I did.”
“You knew him pretty well, of course?” Roger asked, applying a
match to his cigarette.
“I should say so. I was with him longer than I like to remember,”
Jefferson replied with a little laugh that sounded somewhat bitter to
Roger’s suspicious ears.
“What sort of a man was he really? I thought him quite a good
sort; but then I’d probably only seen one side of him.”
“Oh, everyone has their different sides, don’t they?” Jefferson
parried. “I don’t suppose Stanworth was very unlike anyone else.”
“Why did he employ an ex-prize-fighter as a butler?” Roger asked
suddenly, looking the other straight in the face.
But Jefferson was not to be caught off his guard.
“Oh, a whim I should think,” he said easily. “He had plenty of
whims like that.”
“It seems funny to meet with a butler called Graves in real life,”
Roger said with a little smile. “They’re always called Graves on the
stage, aren’t they?”
“Oh, that isn’t his real name. He’s really called Bill Higgins, I
believe. Mr. Stanworth couldn’t face the name of Higgins, so he
called him Graves instead.”
 “It’s a pity. Higgins is an admirably original name for a butler.
Besides, it harmonises much more with the gentleman’s general air
of ruggedness, doesn’t it? Well, what about this breath of air we
promised ourselves, Alec? See you later no doubt, Jefferson.”
Jefferson nodded amicably, and the two strolled out on to the
lawn. It was only just beginning to get dusk, and the light was still
strong.
“I’ve found out who the handkerchief belongs to, Alec,” Roger
said in a low voice.
“Have you? Who?”
“Mrs. Plant. I was almost certain before we sat down to dinner,
but what she said clinched it. That scent is jasmine right enough.”
“And what are you going to do?”
Roger hesitated. “Well, you heard what she said,” he replied,
almost apologetically. “She didn’t actually deny it, because I never
asked her; but she wouldn’t admit to being in the library at all
yesterday evening.”
“But surely it’s a perfectly innocent thing to be in the library?” Alec
protested. “Why, Stanworth wasn’t even there. He was out in the
garden with you. Why shouldn’t she have been in the library?”
“And, equally, why shouldn’t she acknowledge it?” Roger retorted
quickly.
“It may have slipped her memory. That’s nothing. You were
saying yourself how difficult it is to remember exactly where one’s
been.”
“It’s no use, Alec,” Roger said gently. “We’ve got to clear this up.
It may be innocent enough; I only hope it is! On the other hand, it
may be exceedingly important for us to find out just exactly why Mrs.
Plant was in that library, and what she was doing there. You must
see that we can’t leave it as it is.”
“But what do you propose to do? Tackle her about it?”
“Yes. I’m going to ask her point-blank if she was in the library last
night or not, and see what she says.”
“And if she denies it?”
Roger shrugged his shoulders. “That remains to be seen,” he
said shortly.
 “I don’t like it,” Alec frowned. “In fact, I hate it. It’s a beastly
position. Look here, Roger,” he said with sudden earnestness, “let’s
chuck the whole thing! Let’s assume, as the police are doing, that old
Stanworth committed suicide and leave it at that. Shall we?”
“You bet we won’t!” Roger said grimly. “I’m not going to leave a
thing half threshed out like that; especially not such an interesting
thing as this. You can back out if you like; there’s no reason for you
to be mixed up with it if you don’t want. But I’m most decidedly going
on with it.”
“Oh, if you do, I shall, too,” Alec replied gloomily. “But I’d much
rather we both chucked it.”
“That’s out of the question,” Roger said briskly. “Couldn’t dream
of it. Well, if you’re going to stick to it with me, you’d better be
present at my chat with Mrs. Plant. Let’s stroll round to the drawing
room and see if we can find an excuse to speak with her alone.”
“All right, then,” Alec agreed unhappily. “If we must.”
Luck was on their side. Mrs. Plant was alone in the drawing
room. Roger drew a chair up so as to face her squarely and
commented casually on Lady Stanworth’s absence. Alec turned his
back on them and gazed moodily out of the window, as if washing
his hands of the whole affair.
“Lady Stanworth?” Mrs. Plant repeated. “Oh, she’s gone in to
help Major Jefferson, I think. In the morning room.”
Roger looked at her steadily. “Mrs. Plant,” he said in a low voice,
“you’re quite certain you won that bet of ours at dinner, aren’t you?”
“Certain?” asked Mrs. Plant uneasily. “Of course I am. Why?”
“You didn’t forget any room that you went into yesterday evening
by any chance?” Roger pursued firmly. “The morning room, the
storeroom, or—the library, for instance?”
Mrs. Plant stared at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean, Mr.
Sheringham?” she asked in somewhat heightened tones. “Of course
I didn’t forget.”
“You went into none of those rooms, then?”
“Certainly not!”
“H’m! The bet was a bottle of scent and a handkerchief, wasn’t
it?” Roger remarked musingly, feeling in his pocket. “Well, here’s the
handkerchief. I found it where you left it—on the couch in the library!”
 CHAPTER XX.
Mrs. Plant Proves Disappointing
For a moment Mrs. Plant sat perfectly rigid. Then she put out her
hand and mechanically took the handkerchief that Roger was still
holding out to her. Her face had gone quite white and her eyes were
wide with terror.
“Please don’t be alarmed,” said Roger gently, touching her hand
reassuringly. “I don’t want to frighten you, or anything like that; but
don’t you think it would be better if you told me the truth? You might
get into very serious trouble with the police, you know, if it came out
that you had been concealing any important fact. Really, I only want
to help you, Mrs. Plant.”
The colour drained back into her face at that, though her breath
still came in gasps and she continued to stare at him fearfully.
“But—but it wasn’t anything—important,” she said jerkily. “It was
only——” She paused again.
“Don’t tell me if you’d rather not, of course,” Roger said quickly.
“But I can’t help feeling that I might be able to advise you. It’s a
serious matter to mislead the police, even in the most trivial details.
Take your time and think it over.” He rose to his feet and joined Alec
at the window.
When Mrs. Plant spoke again, her composure was largely
restored.
“Really,” she said, with a nervous little laugh, “it’s absurd for me
to make such a fuss over a trifle, but I have got a horror of giving
evidence—morbid, if you like, but none the less genuine. So I tried to
minimise my last conversation with Mr. Stanworth as much as
possible, in the hope that the police would attach so little importance
to it that they wouldn’t call on me to give evidence.”
 Roger seated himself on the arm of a chair and swung his leg
carelessly.
“But you’ll be called in any case, so why not tell exactly what
happened?”
“Yes, but—but I didn’t know that then, you see; not when I made
my statement. I didn’t think they’d call me at all then. Or I hoped they
wouldn’t.”
“I see. Still, I think it would be better not to conceal anything as
things are, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes. I quite see that now. Quite. It’s very good of you to help
me like this, Mr. Sheringham. When—when did you find my
handkerchief?”
“Just before I went up to change for dinner. It was between two of
those loose cushions on the couch.”
“So you knew I must have been in the library? But how did you
know what time I was there?”
“I didn’t. In fact, I don’t know,” Roger smiled. “All I know is that it
must have been after dinner, because the maid always tidies the
room at that time.”
Mrs. Plant nodded slowly. “I see. Yes, that was clever of you. I
didn’t leave anything else there, did I?” she added, again with that
nervous little laugh.
“No, nothing else,” Roger replied smoothly. “Well, have you
thought it over?”
“Oh, of course I’ll tell you, Mr. Sheringham. It’s really too
ridiculous. You remember when you passed us in the hall? Well, Mr.
Stanworth was speaking to me about some roses he’d had sent up
to my room. And then I asked him if he’d put my jewels in his safe for
me, as I——”
“But I thought you said this morning that you asked him that the
other day?” Roger interrupted.
Mrs. Plant laughed lightly. She was quite herself again.
“Yes, I did; and I told the inspector it was yesterday morning.
Wasn’t it dreadful of me? That’s why I was so upset when you told
me this afternoon that I should have to give evidence. I was so afraid
they’d ask me a lot of questions and find out that I was in the library,
after all, when I hadn’t said anything about it, and that I had told the
inspector a lie about the jewels. In fact, you frightened me terribly,
Mr. Sheringham. I had dreadful visions of passing the rest of my
days in prison for telling fibs to the police.”
“I’m very sorry,” Roger smiled. “But I didn’t know, did I?”
“Of course you didn’t. It was my own fault. Well, anyhow, Mr.
Stanworth very kindly said he’d be delighted to put them away safely
for me, so I ran upstairs to get them and brought them down into the
library. Then I sat on the couch and watched him put them in the
safe. That’s all that happened really, and I quite see now how absurd
it was of me to conceal it.”
“H’m!” said Roger thoughtfully. “Well, it certainly isn’t vastly
important in any case, is it? And that’s all?”
“Every bit!” Mrs. Plant replied firmly. “Now what do you advise me
to do? Admit that I made a mistake when I was with the inspector
and tell the truth? Or just say nothing about it? It may be very silly of
me, but I really can’t see that it makes the least difference either way.
The incident is of no importance at all.”
“Still, it’s best to be on the safe side, I think. If I were you I should
take the inspector aside before the proceedings open to-morrow and
tell him frankly that you made a mistake, and that you took your
jewels in to Mr. Stanworth in the library last night before saying good-
night to him.”
Mrs. Plant made a wry face. “Very well,” she said reluctantly, “I
will. It’s horrid to have to admit that one was wrong; but you’re
probably right. Anyhow, I’ll do that.”
“I think you’re wise,” Roger replied, getting to his feet again.
“Well, Alec, what about that stroll of ours? I’m afraid it will have to be
a moonlit one now.” He paused in the doorway and turned back.
“Good-night, Mrs. Plant, if I don’t see you again; I expect you will be
turning in fairly early. Sleep well, and don’t let things worry you,
whatever you do.”
“I’ll try not to,” she smiled back. “Good-night, Mr. Sheringham,
and thank you very much indeed.” And she heaved a heartfelt sigh of
relief as she watched his disappearing back.
The two made their way out on to the lawn in silence.
“Hullo,” Roger remarked, as they reached the big cedar, “they’ve
left the chairs out here. Let’s take advantage of them.”
 “Well?” Alec demanded gruffly when they were seated,
disapproval written large in every line of him. “Well? I hope you’re
satisfied now.”
Roger pulled his pipe out of his pocket and filled it methodically,
gazing thoughtfully into the soft darkness as he did so.
“Satisfied?” he repeated at last. “Well, hardly. What do you
think?”
“I think you scared that wretched woman out of her wits for
absolutely nothing at all. I told you ages ago you were making a
mistake about her.”
“You’re a very simple-minded young man I’m afraid, Alec,” Roger
said, quite regretfully.
“Why, you surely don’t mean to say you disbelieve her?” Alec
asked in astonishment.
“H’m! I wouldn’t necessarily say that. She may have been
speaking the truth.”
“That’s awfully good of you,” Alec commented sarcastically.
“But the trouble is that she certainly wasn’t speaking the whole of
it. She’s got something up her sleeve, has that lady, whatever you
choose to think, Alec. Didn’t you notice how she tried to pump me?
How did I know what time she’d been in there? Had she left anything
else there? When did I find the handkerchief? No, her explanation
sounds perfectly reasonable, I admit, as far as it goes. But it doesn’t
go nearly far enough. It doesn’t explain the powder on the arm of the
couch, for instance; and I noticed at dinner that she doesn’t powder
her arms. But there’s one thing above all that it leaves entirely out of
the reckoning.”
“Oh?” Alec asked ironically. “And what may that be?”
“The fact that she was crying when she was in the library,” Roger
replied simply.
“How on earth do you know that?” said the dumbfounded Alec.
“Because the handkerchief was just slightly damp when I found it.
Also it was rolled up in a tight little ball, as women do when they cry.”
“Oh!” said Alec blankly.
“So you see there is still a lot for which Mrs. Plant did most
certainly not account, isn’t there? As to what she did say, it may be
true or it may be not. In gist I should say that it was. There’s only one
thing that I’m really doubtful about, and that’s the time when she said
she was in the library.”
“What makes you doubt that?”
“Well, in the first place I didn’t hear her come upstairs
immediately to fetch her jewels, as I almost certainly should have
done. And, secondly, didn’t you notice that she carefully asked me if
I knew what time she was there, before she gave a time at all? In
other words, after I had let out like an idiot that I didn’t know what
time she was there, she realised that she could say what time she
liked, and as long as it didn’t clash with any of the known facts (such
as Stanworth being out in the garden with me) it would be all right.”
“Splitting hairs?” Alec murmured laconically.
“Possibly; but nice, thick, easily splittable ones.”
For a time they smoked in silence, each engaged with his own
thoughts. Then:
“Who would you say was the older, Alec,” Roger asked suddenly,
“Lady Stanworth or Mrs. Shannon?”
“Mrs. Shannon,” Alec replied without hesitation. “Why?”
“I was just wondering. But Lady Stanworth looks older; her hair is
getting quite gray. Mrs. Shannon’s is still brown.”
“Yes, I know Mrs. Shannon looks the younger of the two; but I’m
sure she’s not, for all that.”
“Well, what age would you put Jefferson at?”
“Lord, I don’t know. He might be any age. About the same as
Lady Stanworth, I should imagine. What on earth are you asking all
this for?”
“Oh, just something that was passing through my mind. Nothing
very important.”
They relapsed into silence once more.
Suddenly Roger slapped his knee. “By Jove!” he ejaculated. “I
wonder if we dare!”
“What’s up now?”
“I’ve just had a brain wave. Look here, Alexander Watson, it
seems to me that we’ve been tackling this little affair from the wrong
end.”
“How’s that?”
 “Why, we’ve been concentrating all our energies on working
backwards from suspicious circumstances and people. What we
ought to have done is to start farther back and work forwards.”
“Don’t quite get you.”
“Well, put it another way. The big clue to any murder must after
all be supplied by the victim himself. People don’t get murdered for
nothing—except by a chance burglar, of course, or a homicidal
maniac; and I think we can dismiss both of those possibilities here.
What I mean is, find out all you can about the victim and the
information ought to give you a lead towards his murderer. You see?
We’ve been neglecting that side of it altogether. What we ought to
have been doing is to collect every possible scrap of information we
can about old Stanworth. Find out exactly what sort of a character he
had and all his activities, and then work forwards from that. Get me?”
“That seems reasonable enough,” Alec said cautiously. “But how
could we find out anything? It’s no good asking Jefferson or Lady
Stanworth. We should never get any information out of them.”
“No, but we’ve got the very chance lying close to our hand to find
out pretty nearly as much as Jefferson knows,” Roger said excitedly.
“Didn’t he say that he was going through all Stanworth’s papers and
accounts and things in the morning room? What’s to prevent us
having a look at them, too?”
“You mean, nip in when nobody’s about and go through them?”
“Exactly. Are you game?”
Alec was silent for a moment.
“Hardly done, is it?” he said at last. “Fellow’s private papers and
all that, I mean, what?”
“Alec, you sponge-headed parrot!” Roger exclaimed, in tones of
the liveliest exasperation. “Really, you are a most maddening
person! Here’s a chap murdered under your very nose, and you’re
prepared to let the murderer walk away scot-free because you think
it isn’t ‘done’ to look through the wretched victim’s private papers.
How remarkably pleased Stanworth would be to hear you, wouldn’t
he?”
“Of course if you put it like that,” Alec said doubtfully.
“But I do put it like that, you goop! It’s the only way there is of
putting it. Come, Alec, do try and be sensible for once in your life.”
 “All right then,” Alec said, though not with any vast degree of
enthusiasm. “I’m game.”
“That’s more like it. Now look here, my bedroom window is in the
front of the house and I can see the morning-room window from it.
You go to bed in the ordinary way, and sleep, too, if you like (all the
better, in case Jefferson should take it into his head to have a look in
at you); and I’ll sit up and watch for the morning-room light to go out.
I’m safe enough in any case, as I can always pretend to be working;
I’ll put my things out, in fact. Then I’ll wait for an hour after it’s out, to
give Jefferson plenty of time to get to sleep; and then I’ll come along
and rouse you, and we’ll creep down at our leisure. How about that?”
“Sounds all right,” Alec admitted.
“Then that’s settled,” Roger said briskly. “Well, I think the best
thing for you to do is to go to bed at once, yawning loudly and
ostentatiously. It will show that you have gone, for one thing; and
also it will show that we’re not pow-wowing together out here. We’ve
got to remember that those three, in spite of their fair words and
friendliness, are bound to be regarding us with the greatest
suspicion. They don’t know how much we know, and of course they
daren’t give themselves away by trying to find out. But you can be
sure that Jefferson has warned the others about that footprint; and I
expect that as soon as our backs were turned just now, Mrs. Plant
ran into the morning room and recounted our conversation to them.
That’s why I pretended to be taken in by her explanation.”
The bowl of Alec’s pipe glowed red in the darkness.
“You’re still convinced, then, in spite of what she said, that those
three are in league together?” he asked after a moment’s pause.
“Run along to bed, little Alexander,” said Roger kindly, “and don’t
be childish.”