“‘It looks like that,’ I said. I got to my feet. ‘Well, thank you very much.’
“‘To thank me,’ said Dallas, ‘is indecent – and you know it as well as I. The kick I get out of your visits will hardly go into words. Au revoir, Superintendent.’
“‘Au revoir,’ I said, laughing.
“Then I went to the lodge and saw the porteress.
“She showed me The Visitors’ Book. This is a proper register. Date; name and address of visitor; name of patient; relation of visitor to patient. No visitors for St Amant; but that I’d been told. Berryman’s mother came to see him on Saturday last. Number One’s daughter, on Monday; and on the same day the old Civil Servant’s son. Only one entry made me think. A Madame de Porphyry came to see Dallas on Sunday – address The Savoy Hotel. She was entered as ‘Friend’. I asked the porteress if she remembered her.
“‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I do. She was very French.’
“‘Young?’ I said.
“‘Perhaps about forty,’ she said.
“‘I don’t think you liked her very much.’
“‘I’m afraid I didn’t. When I asked her to register, she asked if this was a gaol.’
“‘I find that inexcusable.’
“‘Sister Geneviève will tell you more.’
“‘I haven’t seen her today.’
“‘She’ll be on duty again at four o’clock.’
“‘One more question, please. Did you see the Frenchwoman’s car?’
“‘Yes, it was a Rolls-Royce.’
“‘Colour?’
“‘Black.’
“‘I see. Was she driving herself?’
“‘No. She had a chauffeur.’
“‘I see. Well, thank you very much. Perhaps I shall want to look at that register again.’
“‘Whenever you please.’
“It was then ten minutes to four, so I strolled to the gate and back. Then I entered the house and found Sister Geneviève.
“‘Can you spare me ten minutes?’ I said.
“‘Yes, Superintendent. Would you mind if we talked on the terrace? Then the Sister in Number Three will tell me if anyone rings.’
“‘What could be better?’ I said.
“We reached the terrace by way of St Amant’s room.
“I glanced at Dallas’ windows.
“‘I don’t want Number Five to hear what we say.’
“‘Let’s go to the other end. One moment. I must just warn the Sister in Number Three.’
“When she returned –
“‘Was that Sister Josephine?’
“‘No. She comes on at eight. Have you been questioning her?’
“‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I wish she was as helpful as you.’
“‘She’s very unworldly. I’m sure she tried her best.’
“‘Entirely between you and me, I’m not quite sure that she did.’
“Sister Geneviève looked greatly surprised.
“‘You amaze me, Superintendent.’
“‘There was something she didn’t tell me.’
“‘That happened on Tuesday night?’
“‘Yes. It may be of no importance, but I want to know what it was.’
“‘I’ll see what I can do.’
“I looked at her.
“‘I don’t wonder that Lord St Amant called you St Geneviève. But, Sister Geneviève, this is between you and me – and nobody else.’
“‘That’s understood, Superintendent.’ She drew in her breath. ‘I oughtn’t to say this, of course. But I want you to be successful in – in what you’re trying to do.’
Falcon stopped there, and a hand went up to his head.
“I suppose I was right to broach the matter to her. I acted on impulse. It never entered my head, until she said she must warn the Sister in Number Three. If the Mother Superior hears, she’ll write me off. I suppose, in a sense, I am going behind her back. But Sister Josephine is afraid of her. That fear may command her answers. But no one could be afraid of Sister Geneviève. Besides, she’ll be very skilful… I don’t know what to think. However, it’s done now.”
“I’m sure you were right,” said Mansel.
“So’m I,” said I. “I used to act on impulse – and I never remember regretting what I had done. If you ask me, the girl was rattled. There was something she dared not say, in case the Mother Superior shouldn’t approve. If I am right, your absence is not going to do any good. Sister Geneviève is very much more likely to get at the truth.”
“I entirely agree,” said Mansel. “You must be glad of that woman.”
“I am, indeed,” said Falcon. “For the Mother Superior, I have a profound respect. And we’re now on very good terms. But I’ve something approaching affection for Sister Geneviève. There’s something she didn’t put off, when she took the veil. And I haven’t done with her yet. Just listen to this.
“‘And now,’ I said, ‘just a word about something else. Mr Dallas was visited, Sister, on Sunday last.’
“‘Yes,’ she said. ‘By a Frenchwoman – very French.’
“‘Who doesn’t seem to have been very popular.’
“‘Her manners left much to be desired.’
“‘Why do you say that, Sister?’
“‘Well, she entered the corridor, as I came out of a room. I went to meet her at once. ‘Take me to Mr Dallas,’ was all she said. My hands were full, so I asked her to wait a moment. I went to my pantry and came back as soon as I could. That was in less than a minute. But she was gone. I went directly to Mr Dallas’ room. Sure enough, there she was. She said something in French, and I saw Mr Dallas frown. Then she said in English, ‘You see I have found my way without your help.’ I didn’t answer her, but I said to Mr Dallas, ‘Will you ring, please, when the lady is ready to leave?’ And he was very polite, as he always is. ‘I promise I will,’ he said.
“‘He has very pleasant manners,’ I said.
“‘Yes, he is very nice. He always thanks us so nicely for all we do.’
“‘And Mr Berryman?’
Sister Geneviève looked down.
“‘He seems very embittered,’ she said. ‘As cripples sometimes are.’
“‘But he’s not a cripple?’ I said.
“‘Oh, no. I only meant that cripples are sometimes embittered. But he has no such excuse.’
“‘Does he ever thank you?’ I said.
“‘No. But there’s no reason why he should.’
“‘That is a matter of opinion, Sister Geneviève.’
“‘And his mother is such a sweet woman. She thanked me with tears in her eyes.’
“‘He must be a great grief to her.’
“‘I fear he must.’
“‘Cast your mind back to yesterday morning. He says that he was quite sure that something was wrong; but that when he asked you what it was, you wouldn’t talk.’
“‘That’s quite true. I didn’t want to tell him that Lord St Amant was dead.’
“‘Why not, Sister Geneviève?’
“‘Because I was sure he would make some hateful remark. And I felt that I couldn’t bear it, because Lord St Amant was – well, every single thing that a gentleman ought to be. We were so proud and happy to have him in our care.’
“‘I can well believe it,’ said I.
“‘And he was so gay. He used to make the Mother Superior smile.’
“‘I think, perhaps, not many patients do that.’
“‘Not very many: they stand in awe of her. But he never did. He used to speak French with her. I don’t know what he said, but one day she laughed outright.’
“‘I saw him once with Queen Mary, and she was shaking with laughter at something he’d said.’
“‘We might have been queens, the way he treated us.’
“‘I’m sure of that. Well, thank you very much.’ As I said that, a hand went up to her mouth. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘please tell me.’
“‘There’s just one thing, Superintendent.
I was going to tell you just now, but we passed on to something else. The Frenchwoman. You remember I said that I asked her to wait a minute, but that, when I got back, she was in Mr Dallas’ room.’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Well, a little later I visited Lord St Amant, to take his tea-tray away. When I’d shut the door behind me, ‘And what,’ he said, ‘is the Duchess doing here?’ I didn’t know what he meant, and told him so. He said, ‘Ten minutes ago, a French lady of high degree burst into this room. I don’t know who she wanted, but I’m sure that it wasn’t me. She withdrew – precipitately.’
“‘They’d met before, Sister?’
“‘That’s the impression I got.’
“‘What did you say?’
“‘I said I was terribly sorry and told him what had occurred. ‘I shouldn’t have left her,’ I said. He smiled his charming smile. Then he said so gently, ‘St Geneviève, when you apologize, it makes the angels weep.’
“She put her hand to her cheek and whipped away a tear.
“‘Rubbish, of course,’ she said. ‘But it was such very sweet rubbish.’
“I don’t mind admitting that the tears came into my eyes…
“Then –
“‘Anything more,’ I said.
“‘I think that’s all.’
“I left the Convent then.
“I went to the station and dictated another report. Then I called on the Coroner. I gave him the statements, with which he seemed satisfied. The local superintendent will give him the rest. His summonses had been served that afternoon.
“‘You’ll keep me informed,’ he said.
“‘I certainly will.’
“‘A difficult case, Superintendent.’
“‘It’s not plain sailing,’ I said.
“‘And the analysis?’
“‘I hope for some news tomorrow. You’ll be the first to hear. I don’t expect to receive it before the afternoon. But even if it came in the morning, it couldn’t be proved at the hearing tomorrow afternoon. What will be proved is that an analysis is being made. That can mean only one thing – that we suspect that Lord St Amant was poisoned. I think we shall have to consider when to release the result.’
“‘I leave it to you, Superintendent.’
“‘Thank you. I thought you would.’
“I visited the station again, had a word with Rogers and then drove here.
“Then, as you know, Rogers and I played about in the meadows last night. With your binocular, I could see clean into the rooms. I saw Sister Helena enter Dallas’ room, with his spoon in her hand, and set it down by his side. Then I ventured on to the terrace. I walked right along by the parapet, and though both Dallas and Berryman were still awake, neither gave any sign of hearing or seeing me. From there, of course, I could see as much as I pleased.
“Before I forget, Mr Chandos, when Bell called me this morning, I gave him your binocular back.”
“Thank you, Superintendent. You’ll say if you want it again.”
“I will, indeed.
“Well now, before relating what happened today, I’d like to sum up.
“We’ve dealt with Berryman. Who shall we deal with next?”
“Dallas,” said Mansel.
“Exactly,” said Falcon. “Now I’m almost certain that Dallas has told me the truth. But, though he was gossiping, he knew as well as did I, that he was laying a halter round Berryman’s neck. Not sufficiently stout to hang him; but a halter, nevertheless. I have known that done by persons whose hands were not clean. The red herring, you know. And Dallas is nobody’s fool. Now for his visitor. I don’t know who she is, but I shall very soon. Did she tell Dallas or not that St Amant was lying next door? If she did, then Dallas has lied. But if Dallas has lied to me, then he’s done it remarkably well. I find it rather hard to make up my mind, because I like the fellow – and that’s the truth. Of course, he’s terribly clever – no doubt about that. And though he can be very charming, he is not admirable. But no, I cannot see Dallas consenting to St Amant’s death.”
Mansel raised his eyebrows.
“It is written,” he said, “‘That one may smile and smile, and be a villain.’ Still, from what you tell me, Falcon, I think you can – not rule out Dallas, but lay him aside. That he couldn’t have done it himself is understood: but he might have consented. And now for the Duchess.”
“Ah,” said Falcon. “I must confess I never expected her. And she seems to be a very unpleasant type.”
“I know just what she’s like,” said Mansel. “Better bred than some – with a vicious streak. Hard as nails. Rich on the money that she has extracted from men. Offensive to people for whom she has no use. Treating servants like dirt. And – dangerous. And she has failed with St Amant. They weren’t on speaking terms. I don’t wonder you’re looking at her. And London will very soon know if she drives a grey car. Falcon, you’re getting on.”
“Why ‘Madame de Porphyry’?”
“I’ve no idea. There must be some reason, of course: but it may be innocent. There isn’t a Duchesse de Porphyry – that I know.”
“Quick work,” said Falcon. “She obviously didn’t know that St Amant was there.”
“Very quick work,” said Mansel. “I give you that. Veni, vidi, necavi. But it could have been done. Reconnaissance on Monday. I know why you’re hanging back.”
“Why?” said Falcon.
“Because she’s too good to be true.”
“You’re perfectly right, Colonel Mansel. She belongs to detective fiction.”
“What are you going to say if she drives a grey car?” Falcon laughed.
“Let me admit,” he said, “that I’ve turned on the heat. If she’s still in London, by now she is being watched. Her biography should be awaiting me when I get back. All the same, I like Berryman best. Finally, what can it be that Sister Josephine knows?”
“As like as not,” said I, “it’s insignificant. From the Mother Superior’s estimate of the girl, to distinguish grain from chaff is beyond her power.”
“But she’s holding out on me, Mr Chandos.”
“I know. A girl like that will tread the path of duty with bleeding feet. Then she comes to a place where the path of duty forks. She looks in vain for a signpost, to tell her which way to go. Only her brain can tell her, and that she’s afraid to use. And that kind of girl will always choose the wrong way. Supposing she’d been on duty when St Amant had been found dead. And Sister Helena had called upon her, instead of on Sister Therèse. I’ll lay you any money she wouldn’t have left her patient. A conflict of duties. And she would have chosen wrong.”
“That’s perfectly true.”
“It’s on your mind,” said Mansel. “If I were placed as you are, I think it would be on mine. But I think you should try to forget it. If the Mother Superior fails, Sister Geneviève should succeed in unlocking her tongue.”
“You’re right. It’s foolish to worry. I’ll probably know tomorrow. The Mother Superior’s asked me to come to her room at half past ten. May I lunch here, Mrs Chandos?”
“Superintendent, what do you think?”
“You’re very sweet. I’d hoped to get off before lunch. But I’ve got so much to see to, before I go, that I’ve told them not to expect me till four o’clock. That means I shall sleep at my flat and leave on Sunday morning for Curfew Place.
“And so we come to Friday – that is to say, today.
“The first thing I did was to examine the meadows in which we had moved last night. I thought the grass might show traces of where we had been. Not one remained.
“Then I drove to the Station. I saw the Chief Constable there and the local police. I told them – not all I’ve told you, but as much, to be perfectly frank, as I thought they should know. I’ve known indiscretions committed. Some years ago, a local Inspector saved a murderer’s life. And I don’t want an accident here. But here they’ve been very nice. No jealousy of the Yard, and always ready to help.
“
The Chief Constable said this morning –
“‘We don’t seem to be doing much.’
“‘For the moment, sir, outside the Home, there’s very little to do.’
“‘Well, don’t forget that we’re always at your disposal, day and night.’
“‘You don’t have to tell me that, sir.’
“Then we discussed the Inquest. I said that I should be there, but should not interfere.
“‘I know my limitations. Superintendent Holer will do it much better than I. And now tell me this. The Coroner’s out to help, and I’m sure that he will. How does he deal with his juries?’
“The local superintendent smiled.
“‘They’ll do as he tells them, sir. He’s very strict.’
“‘Questions?’
“‘No. It’s got to be a very good question, for him to allow. And then, nine times out of ten, he’ll answer it himself.’
“‘Then that’s all right.’
Falcon looked round.
“This was a great relief. A Coroner’s jury can be a thorn in the flesh.
“‘What about the Press, Superintendent?’
“‘Make everything smooth for them, but don’t say a word. Say that I’ll see them this evening at six o’clock. Now tell me about the Court. Is there more than one way in?’
“‘There’s the Coroner’s private door.’
“‘I’d rather not use that.’
“‘There’s a passage from the mortuary yard.’
“‘I expect the gates of the yard are high, blind doors.’
“‘They are that, sir.’
“‘Then that will do very well. Please have two men on the gates, one inside and one out. When the one outside sees my car coming, he knocks on the gate: that tells the one inside to open the leaves. And they shut the gates behind me, directly I’m in.’
“‘That shall be done, Superintendent.’
“‘I’ll hang on my heel at the Station, if you’ll have an officer waiting to show me the way.’
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