He said in a lazy voice,
‘You are really a very demoralizing associate for a police officer, you know.’
She gave him a half smile and continued to knit.
‘In what way do I demoralize you?’
‘My dear ma’am! I find it impossible to look at you and to remember that there is such a thing as crime. You diffuse an atmosphere of security which forbids it.’
‘My dear Frank!’
‘I know, I know – crime exists, and we are here on a murder case. Let’s get down to it. I have been interviewing the untidy Mrs Traill, and you may take it from me untidy she is. And so is No. 4 Holbrook Cottages, and her daughter-in-law, and the three little Traills under school age. But quite respectable and cooperative. I give the Miss Pimms top marks. Lily appears to be the human phonograph. Mrs Traill as reported by her being if anything rather more accurate than Mrs Traill as reported by Mrs Traill.’
Miss Silver gave the slight cough with which she was wont to draw attention to an inaccurate or exaggerated statement.
‘My dear Frank…’
He put up a hand.
‘No – pause before you accuse me. I am prepared to prove the point. There were two occasions when Mrs Traill’s version of what happened on Tuesday night differed slightly from Lily Pimm’s account of the conversation in the fish queue. Pressed by me, Mrs Traill immediately discarded her own version and agreed that what she had said to Mrs Rigg outside the fish shop was the right one. Her own expression, I may say, and very handsomely conceded, was “That’s right!” I felt that for tuppence she would have called me “ducks”. It was all very matey.’
Miss Silver pulled on the pale pink ball.
‘I have no doubt as to the accuracy of Lily Pimm’s account. I do not believe her capable of inventing anything.’
He nodded.
‘Well, she didn’t in this case. So there we are with the missing link we were talking about when I looked out of the window and saw Mabel and Lily on the step. As far as I remember, I was saying that the chances were about fifty-fifty as regards Nicholas Carey. He couldn’t prove that he didn’t come back and murder Mrs Graham, and we couldn’t prove that he did. Well, Mrs Traill’s evidence alters all that, doesn’t it? As reported by Lily and confirmed by herself, Mrs Traill states that she came out of 28 Hill Rise at twenty past eleven, walked approximately a hundred and twenty feet along the pavement until she was level with the gazebo, and then heard Mrs Graham call out, “How dare you, Nicholas Carey!” He is not going to find it easy to explain that away, is he? Miss Graham took her mother into the house at, shall we say, a quarter to eleven. She and Carey had an assignation for half past ten. They had to meet. Her mother had to get up, put something on, and come and find them. After which there had to be time for a row, persuasions, and getting Mrs Graham back into the house. Say a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes – but we should still be well this side of eleven o’clock. Carey says he went off at once, walked for a long time, and got back to Grove Hill House he can’t say when. Mrs Traill, who can’t have any axe to grind, is prepared to swear that she heard Mrs Graham call out to him in an angry voice at somewhere between twenty and twenty-five past eleven. So one of them is lying, and only Carey has a motive for that particular lie.’
Miss Silver gave a gentle cough.
‘I think that you are assuming more than is warranted by Mrs Traill’s statement. Mrs Traill heard a voice say, “How dare you, Nicholas Carey!” and in view of the other evidence we are, I suppose, justified in assuming that it was Mrs Graham who was speaking. The words are the same as those heard half an hour previously by Nurse Cotton. But whereas Nurse Cotton was able to identify the voice as that of Mrs Graham, Mrs Traill is in no position to do so. Still it is a fair assumption that the speaker was the same in both cases. What I do not feel we are entitled to assume is that the person she addressed was necessarily the same.’
‘She used his name!’
Miss Silver knitted briskly.
‘It was about half an hour since she had gone into the house, leaving Nicholas Carey in the gazebo. Miss Graham had put her to bed and retired to her own room, where, as she tells me, she fell instantly and deeply asleep. We do not know what it was that took Mrs Graham back to the gazebo. There must have been some evidence of an intruder – probably the flash of a torch. There seems to be no doubt that what she saw convinced her of Mr Carey’s continued presence in the garden, and she could place only one construction on it, that he was waiting there to see her daughter. Hurrying out, she reaches the gazebo, is aware of the intruder, and calls out, using the words overheard by Mrs Traill, “How dare you, Nicholas Carey!” But do you suppose that she really saw and recognized him? I think the most she would see would be an impression that there was someone moving there. I went up the garden last night just after eleven o’clock. The weather was very much the same as it was on Tuesday. There was no moon, and there are overhanging trees at the top of the garden. As I came up to the gazebo it was very dark indeed. The interior was like a black cave.’
He said,
‘There was a flashlight in the pocket of Mrs Graham’s coat.’
Miss Silver’s voice reproved him.
‘If she had been using it, it would not have been found in her pocket. It was probably her sense of hearing which told her there was someone in the gazebo, and I maintain there is no proof that it was Nicholas Carey.’
There was a pause before he said,
‘I shall have to go up and report to the Chief. I think he will say that the evidence must go to the Public Prosecutor. You are predisposed in Carey’s favour, but you don’t need me to tell you that Mrs Traill’s evidence looks bad for him. On the other hand no one will want to be in too much of a hurry. Those “Rolling Stone” articles of his made a big splash. But they are pretty tough, you know, and life in the sort of places they describe would be calculated to rub off some of the finer scruples. I think it might be just as well if you didn’t give Althea Graham too much encouragement to expect a happy ending.’
TWENTY-FIVE
FRANK ABBOTT HAD been gone about half an hour when a knock upon the front door took Miss Silver into the hall to open it. There was a young man standing in the porch with a bunch of pink carnations in his hand. He was good-looking in rather an obtrusive sort of way, and he had the air of being very well pleased with himself. He was in fact Mr Fred Worple, and he had called to see Miss Althea Graham. He imparted these facts in a negligent manner and advanced a step as if he had no doubt that he would be admitted.
Miss Silver stood where she was.
‘I am afraid Miss Graham is not able to see visitors.’
‘It’s been a shock,’ said Mr Worple. ‘Well, of course it would be, wouldn’t it? But not a bit of good shutting herself up, is it? She wants to see her friends and get brightened up a bit. You just go and ask her whether she won’t see me.’
Miss Silver looked at him in a thoughtful manner. Then she said,
‘Miss Graham is resting. You are a friend of the family?’
‘I’ll say I am – and a very good friend too. Come, it’ll do her good to see me.’
Miss Silver stepped back.
‘I am afraid that you will not be able to do that. But if you would care to come in for a moment…’ She led the way to the dining-room.
When the door was shut upon them she moved in the direction of the hearth and remained there standing.
‘Miss Graham has mentioned your name, Mr Worple. She tells me that you wish to settle in Grove Hill, and that you had made Mrs Graham an offer for this house.’
‘That’s right. And a very good offer it was. Here, are you a relation?’
It would be difficult to find anyone more competent than Miss Silver to check a tone of impertinent familiarity. It was, in fact, an art in which she might be said to excel. Chief Inspector Lamb himself, though never a willing offender, had been known to blench. Yet for the moment Mr Fred Worple was spared. She replied qui
etly,
‘I am staying with Miss Graham as a friend. Does Mrs Graham’s death alter your plans with regard to the house?’
He had followed her to the hearth and was now lounging against the mantelpiece, the pink carnations dangling from his hand.
‘Oh, well, I don’t know. As a matter of fact there was someone else after it, and I had rather given up the idea. Murder – well, it does rather put you off, doesn’t it? Of course it ought to bring down the price a good bit. I shouldn’t think the girl would want to stay on here – not after what has happened.’
‘I do not know at all what Miss Graham’s plans may be.’
Fred Worple laughed.
‘If she knows what’s good for her she’ll take what she can get for the place and clear out!’
The fire in the grate had been laid but not lighted. Miss Silver looked down in a thoughtful manner at the paper, the sticks, and the coal.
‘I suppose these houses are not very old?’ she said.
‘Oh, about fifty years or so. My old dad – stepfather he was really – he used to say he remembered all this part before it was built over. Part of the old Grove Hill Estate it was.’
‘There must have been quite a good view from the top of the garden then. I suppose that is why the summerhouse was built there. Miss Graham calls it a gazebo. She seems to think it might be older than the house.’
His foot slipped from the kerb.
‘Oh, I don’t know – I never took that much interest. I used to think I’d like to live in a house like this – used to pass it coming out this way and think, “Well, I’d like to live there,” the way kids do. But I’m not so sure now – not after what has happened. Not unless it was going for a song.’ He straightened up. ‘Look here, be a sport and tell Miss Graham I’m here. Tell her it’ll do her good to see someone who isn’t mixed up in all this, and say I brought her these flowers.’
Miss Silver shook her head.
‘I am afraid it is no good, Mr Worple. Miss
Graham is asleep, and I could not possibly wake her.’
Althea woke refreshed. Her reactions on being shown the pink carnations sent by Mr Worple were very much what Miss Silver had expected.
‘He’s a dreadful person – he really is. He just pushed himself in with his offer for the house. Mr Jones – he is the other house-agent – hadn’t any business to let him come up here. We hadn’t put the house in his hands – we have always dealt with Mr Martin. Mr Blount, the other man who wanted to buy it, came up from him. Mr Martin shouldn’t really have sent him either, but he did have some excuse, because I’m afraid my mother let him think we’d be open to a really good offer.’
Miss Silver appeared to be very much interested.
‘It seemed to me that Mr Worple wished to find out whether you would now be prepared to sell the house. He wished to make me believe that he was no longer interested from a personal point of view, but I did not find his manner at all convincing. He is a forward and pushing person, but he appeared to be ill at ease.’
Althea said, ‘He is quite dreadful!’
They were having tea when Nicholas Carey rang the front door bell. Rightly considering that her presence could now be dispensed with, Miss Silver put on her coat and hat and went out. Arriving at Warren Crescent, she turned off there and proceeded along it into Warren Road. The houses here stood in gardens of between three-quarters of an acre and an acre and a half. The Hollies, which as the telephone-book informed her had the privilege of sheltering the Miss Pimms, occupied one of the larger plots. It had three storeys and a large Victorian conservatory. The holly bushes from which it took its name had been cut into the shapes of birds and beasts, but with time and diminishing care they had become less and less agreeable to the eye. Miss Silver regarded them with distaste as she turned in at the gate and ascended four wide steps to the porch. She rang the bell, and the door was presently opened by Lily Pimm. That was of course the drawback about having only a daily maid. The Miss Pimms could remember the time when The Hollies was served by a resident cook, parlourmaid, and housemaid, not to mention a woman once a week to scrub the floors and a boy for the boots and knives and to help in the garden, where there was of course a whole-time gardener. Now there was only Doris Wills, and Doris left at half past two. The Miss Pimms greatly disliked opening their own front door, and Mabel and Nettie combining in the matter, it had become one of the tasks allotted to Lily, the only drawback being that if it was a pedlar or someone collecting for a charity she was quite unable to say no.
She now stood gazing blankly at Miss Silver with the door in her hand. Miss Silver smiled.
‘Miss Lily Pimm? We met a few hours ago at The Lodge, where I am staying with Miss Althea Graham. My name is Silver – Miss Maud Silver.’
Lily brightened.
‘Oh, yes – but you’ve got a hat on now.’
Mabel Pimm appeared in the drawing-room doorway. She directed a caustic look at Lily, and changed it quickly to a smile of welcome for the guest.
‘Oh, Miss Silver, do pray come in! How good of you to call!’
It would perhaps be unkind to compare Mabel’s feelings with those of the wolf who, having laid elaborate plans to attack the sheepfold, is gratified by the voluntary approach of one of its choicer lambs, but it is certain that next to Althea herself there was no one in Grove Hill whom she would rather have ushered into her drawing-room. As they entered Miss Silver was saying,
‘I was so much concerned at your kind visit to Miss Graham being so unavoidably cut short by her faintness that I felt I should call and let you know that she was able to get some sleep and is now feeling a good deal better. Of course the whole thing has been a most terrible shock.’
‘Naturally.’ Mabel was about to add other and well chosen words, when Lily broke in.
‘I can’t think what I should have done if I had found Mamma murdered at the bottom of the garden…’
There was a simultaneous ‘Lily!’ from both her sisters, but it had practically no effect, and she persisted.
‘Of course we haven’t a gazebo, and Mamma was bedridden for some years before she died. But if she hadn’t been, and I had found her – perhaps in the shrubbery – it certainly would have been a most terrible shock.’
‘Lily…’ Mabel’s tone had become an awful one.
Lily’s understanding, though not bright, was capable of receiving the impression that she would do better to hold her tongue. She sat therefore in silence for some time whilst the conversation between Miss Silver and her sisters proceeded, merely turning her head from side to side so as to be able to watch the person who was speaking.
Mabel was full of inquiries about Althea.
‘And you feel that she is well enough to be left?’
Miss Silver coughed in a deprecating manner.
‘Oh, I should not have liked to leave her by herself. Mr Carey is with her.’
Nettie and Mabel echoed the name.
‘Nicholas Carey!’
‘Oh, yes. They are great friends, are they not? In fact…’ She hesitated and broke off. ‘But perhaps if it is not given out? And of course at a time of mourning like the present…’
It was a pity that Frank Abbott should not have been privileged to observe his Miss Silver in the role of the well-meaning friend who alternately says too much and too little about the affairs in which she has become involved. In a very few minutes Mabel and Nettie were vying with each other to convince her how intimate they had been with Mrs Graham, and how complete had been the confidence she reposed in them. Between them it became established that Nicholas Carey might be a very charming young man, but definitely unreliable. Look at the way he had suddenly thrown Althea over five years ago and gone off into the wilds!
‘We felt very sorry for her.’
‘Really it quite changed her.’
‘A most untrustworthy young man.’
Miss Silver looked from one to the other.
‘Oh, do you really think so?’
Mabel Pimm’s long nose quivered.
‘Look what has happened as soon as he comes back!’
Lily emerged from her silence.
‘Mrs Graham would not let them get married,’ she said. ‘Mrs Stokes who is their daily told Doris Wills, and Doris told me. She said it was ever so romantic, and now that he had come back she wouldn’t be surprised if it was all on again only Mrs Graham would do all she could to put a spoke in his wheel. That’s what Mrs Stokes said.’
If Mabel had been capable of producing a blush she would have blushed for Lily. It was all very well to be accurate, but there was no need to repeat Mrs Stokes’ uneducated way of speaking. She gave her a look and said in a lofty voice that she never listened to gossip.
When Nicholas Carey’s generally unsatisfactory character had been further dealt with, Miss Silver observed in a diffident manner that she felt herself in a very delicate situation, and that any information which could be given her by such old friends as the Miss Pimms would be most helpful. For instance when friends called to inquire after Miss Graham, since all were strangers to herself it would be of the greatest assistance to know which were really on terms of intimacy with the family.
Mabel Pimm was not one to neglect such an opportunity. Miss Silver heard all about Dr Barrington’s partiality for Mrs Graham.
‘People did say – but you can’t believe all you hear, can you, and a doctor must see too many sick people to be attracted by them. But of course she was always sending for him…’
After which there was a piece about Mrs Justice.
‘There is something rather vulgar about having so much money, don’t you think? The girl Sophy married a distant cousin of ours. They are out in the West Indies. By the way, weren’t you at the cocktail-party Mrs Justice gave the other day?’
Miss Silver smiled a little nervously.
‘Oh, yes, she was kind enough to ask me. There was a time when I knew her quite well. Of course I did not expect to know many people there. Perhaps you can tell me about some of them. There was a woman who seemed to be on very friendly terms with Mrs Graham – rather a striking looking person in royal blue, with that very bright golden hair.’
The Gazebo Page 16