The Silent Pool

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The Silent Pool Page 19

by Patricia Wentworth


  ‘Forgive me, Superintendent, but I should appreciate the opportunity of a few words with you.’

  He gave her a little more of his attention than he had done so far. The primly netted hair, the dress of sage-green wool, the gaily flowered knitting-bag – these were of a not uncommon type among the elderly ladies who frequent a less expensive kind of boarding-house. But the expression of alert intelligence was more uncommon. When she opened the door of a small room and preceded him into it he had no hesitation in following her.

  The place was obviously not in the way of being used. There was a desk, and some book-cases, but it had a cold unlived-in feeling. When Martin turned from shutting the door Miss Silver was standing by the empty hearth. She spoke as he came towards her.

  ‘Since this is a case of murder, there are things which I think you ought to know.’ Her voice was so grave, her air so much that of a serious and responsible person, that he found himself regarding her with attention. He had up to now considered her merely in the light of the casual friend who happened to be visiting Adriana Ford at the time of the second tragedy. The fact that she had only been a little over twenty-four hours in the house seemed to relegate her to comparative unimportance and to detach her from any possible connection with the death of Miss Preston. Now he was not so sure. At his slight frown she moved in the direction of a chair and indicated that he also should sit. He found himself complying with a slight sense of surprise that the conduct of the interview should have passed out of his hands.

  Miss Silver settled herself and said,

  ‘I think it is right that you should know that I am here in the capacity of a private enquiry agent.’

  If she had announced that she was there in the capacity of a Fairy Godmother or of First Murderer, she could hardly have surprised him more. In fact the Fairy Godmother would have seemed quite appropriate. Under this incredulous stare she opened her knitting-bag, extracted a mass of fleecy white wool, and began to knit.

  He said, ‘You surprise me,’ and she smiled gravely.

  ‘Miss Adriana Ford approached me in my professional capacity about a fortnight ago. She was in considerable anxiety and distress because she had some reason to believe that her life was being attempted.’

  ‘What!’

  Miss Silver inclined her head.

  ‘There have been three incidents. In the early spring she fell down the stairs and broke her hip. She believed that she was pushed. During the intervening months she was an invalid in her own room. Two more incidents occurred. Some soup which was served to her had a strange burning taste, and she ordered it to be thrown away. The third incident, which occurred not so very long ago, concerned a bottle of sleeping-tablets. Tipping them out into her hand in order to select the proper dose, she saw that one of the tablets was of a different size and shape to the others. She threw it out of the window. You will naturally remark, as I did, that both the soup and the tablets should have been analysed.’

  ‘Certainly – if she suspected that they had been tampered with.’

  Miss Silver gave her slight prim cough.

  ‘I do not know whether you are well acquainted with Miss Adriana Ford, but a student of human nature such as yourself cannot have failed to remark that she is a person of impulsive and determined character. In the matter of the soup and the tablets she acted on impulse. In her interview with me she showed a good deal of determination.’

  ‘What did she want you to do?’

  ‘Nothing, Superintendent. Having told me of these three incidents, they ceased to trouble her. She said what was of course obvious, that the whole thing might have grown up out of very little. As far as she knew, there was no one beyond her on the landing when she fell from the top of the stairs. The soup was mushroom soup, and it was possible that some non-edible kind had been introduced by accident. The different sized tablet could have been a misshapen one. She said her mind was completely relieved, and that there was nothing she now wished me to do. I advised her to give up her invalid ways, take her meals with the family, and be on her guard. This advice I believe she followed.’

  He nodded.

  ‘And when did she communicate with you again?’

  ‘On the Wednesday evening. I had seen a brief notice of Miss Preston’s death on the Monday, but it was not until Wednesday that Miss Ford rang me up. She asked me to come down by the ten-thirty next day, which I did. That was yesterday. On my arrival Miss Ford informed me that the inquest on Miss Preston had resulted in a verdict of accidental death, but from a circumstance which she communicated to me, and which had not been communicated to the police, there seemed to be some doubt about this.’

  ‘What circumstance, Miss Silver?’

  She laid her knitting down and rested her hands upon it.

  ‘She told me that Miss Preston was wearing a coat of a very striking and decided pattern – great black and white squares with an emerald stripe. This coat belonged to Miss Adriana Ford herself. She had proposed giving it to Miss Preston, but Miss Meriel Ford objected. In fact she made a scene about it, and Miss Adriana thought it would be best not to insist for the moment. She had it hung in the downstairs cloakroom, and was intending to give it to Miss Preston at the close of her visit. Miss Preston probably regarded it as her own already, but Miss Adriana continued to wear it.’

  The Superintendent leaned forward.

  ‘Are you suggesting that Miss Preston met with foul play because she was wearing a coat that belonged to Adriana Ford?’

  Miss Silver looked at him steadily.

  ‘I think that Miss Ford draws that inference.’

  He said, ‘There’s no evidence.’

  She took up her knitting again.

  ‘None, Superintendent. But there might have been if Miss Meriel Ford had lived.’

  ‘And what do you mean by that?’

  ‘Miss Preston fell or was pushed into the pool at some time after half past six whilst a cocktail party was going on. Adriana Ford saw both her and Meriel in the drawing-room up to that time. Meriel Ford was wearing a dress of a pinkish mauve shade. I found a piece of this dress caught in the hedge which surrounds the pool.’

  ‘It might have caught there at any time.’

  ‘I believe not. It was a new dress, and she was wearing it for the first time. For some time after half past six no one seems to have seen her. Later, Meeson, Adriana Ford’s maid, saw Meriel Ford with coffee stains all down the front of this dress. Later still, when the guests had gone away, she had changed it.’

  ‘And what do you want to make of that?’

  ‘I think she was certainly down by the pool between half past six and the time Meeson saw her. She had never worn the dress before, and she packed it off to the cleaners on the Monday. In no other way and at no other time could that shred of her dress have got caught in the hedge. The spilled coffee suggests that the dress had become stained as well as torn, and that the stains were of such a nature that she thought it necessary to camouflage them with coffee. I believe that she was down by the pool, and that she either heard or saw something which made her dangerous to the person who pushed Miss Preston in. I believe there was such a person, and that Meriel Ford had some clue to this person’s identity. It is significant that her own death occurred very shortly after a violent quarrel between Meeson and herself. This quarrel took place on the landing at the top of the stairs. It was certainly overheard by Mr and Mrs Geoffrey Ford, by Mr Ninian Rutherford, and by the butler Simmons. It could have been heard by almost anyone in the house. In the course of it Meeson stated that I had found a torn piece of Meriel’s dress in the hedge by the pool, and Meriel loudly accused her of telling tales. I find it difficult to believe that this scene has no connection with what followed.’

  Superintendent Martin was in two minds. He was impressed, and he had no desire to be impressed. He felt like a man who is doing a jigsaw puzzle and to whom an intrusive stranger proffers the missing piece. Gratitude is very seldom the reward of the onlooker who sees more of
the game than you do yourself. He was, at the same time, a just man and too intelligent not to recognize intelligence in another. He recognized it in Miss Silver, and while not prepared to subscribe to her reasoning, he was prepared to consider it.

  As he turned these things over in his mind he became aware that Miss Silver was waiting for him to speak. She did not fidget or show any signs of wishing to interrupt his train of thought. She sat there knitting quietly and maintained an attentive attitude. It occurred to him that he would like to know what impression had been made upon her by the scene in the drawing-room on the previous evening. He said with an effect of abruptness,

  ‘You were in the drawing-room last night when Mr Ford left the room, and when Meriel Ford followed him. Would you mind telling me just what passed?’

  She did so without comment and in her usual careful and accurate manner. When she had finished he said,

  ‘Miss Johnstone and Mr Rutherford did not come into the drawing-room until after Mr Ford left it, then?’

  ‘Just a few minutes afterwards.’

  ‘And how long was it before Meriel Ford went after him?’

  ‘Not long at all. Not more than five minutes. There was some talk about Mrs Somers having rung up – the little girl’s mother. And then Miss Meriel suggested that they might dance. She took up a record, but put it down again almost at once and said, “I’ll get Geoffrey back. It’s nonsense his going off to write letters. Besides, does anyone believe in them? I don’t! Or perhaps Esmé Trent gives him a hand!” ’

  ‘This was said in front of Mrs Geoffrey Ford?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did she say anything?’

  ‘Not at the time. But a little later, when I unfortunately made some reference to a little boy who shares the children’s class at the Vicarage, Miss Adriana Ford said he was Mrs Trent’s child, and that she neglected him. Mrs Geoffrey then showed considerable feeling. She said Mrs Trent was an immoral woman, and told Miss Adriana Ford that she ought not to have her in the house.’

  ‘And what did Adriana Ford say to that?’

  Miss Silver coughed.

  ‘She said that she was not a censor of morals, and she told Mrs Geoffrey not to be a fool.’

  ‘A pleasant family atmosphere,’ said Martin drily.

  Miss Silver said,

  ‘If I may draw an apposite quotation from the works of the late Lord Tennyson-

  ‘Manners are not idle, but the fruit

  Of loyal nature, and of noble mind.“’

  He gave a short laugh.

  ‘Not much of that here!’

  This time she quoted from the book of Common Prayer.

  ‘ “Envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness.” Where these are present you have the ingredients of a crime.’

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s true. At least none of these people seem to mind treading on each other’s corns. You must have had a pleasant evening – I don’t wonder you were ready to go to bed by half past nine. Let us come back to Meriel Ford for a minute. I don’t expect a definite answer to this, but if you have any kind of impression on the subject, I shall be interested to know what it is. She went out in pursuit of Geoffrey Ford, and so far as anyone will admit, that was the last time she was seen alive. Did you have any idea from her manner that her following him might have been just an excuse for getting out of the room – like his saying that he was going to write letters? Or did you think she had a serious interest in getting him to come back?’

  Miss Silver pulled on her ball of wool. After a moment she said,

  ‘I cannot answer that directly. From what I have been told, and from what I have myself observed, Meriel was one of those people who crave to be the centre of attention. She was noticeably vexed and jealous because of Mr Rutherford’s attentions to Janet Johnstone. Her references to Mrs Trent suggested a personal resentment. She evinced jealous ill feeling towards Mrs Geoffrey. She was, I think, anxious to attract and keep the attention of both Mr Rutherford and Mr Ford.’

  He said, ‘You don’t miss much, do you!’

  She gave him a grave smile.

  ‘I was for some time engaged in the scholastic profession. Human nature shows itself very plainly in the schoolroom. “The Child is father to the man”, as Mr Wordsworth says.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Do you think she followed Geoffrey Ford? We know she did go out. He admits that he went to see Mrs Trent. If she followed him there, what took her to the pool?’

  Miss Silver knitted thoughtfully. After a moment she said,

  ‘I walked down to the general shop and post office this morning. It is very nearly opposite to the lodge occupied by Mrs Trent. She came out and walked along the road to the bus stop. After the bus had left, the little boy came out and ran off up the road to the Vicarage. I thought it a good opportunity to observe the surroundings of the lodge. The actual entrance, as you doubtless know, is within the drive. I walked up the flagged path to the front door and afterwards skirted the house. The sitting-room windows look towards the garden. There is a wide bed under them, neglected and full of weeds. There are bushes of lavender and rosemary in sad need of pruning, You will remember that it rained yesterday morning. The streets were still wet when my train got in, but it has been dry since then. The soil in the bed was soft and damp. It retained the clear evidence that a woman had stood outside that window for some little time. The footprints are deep, especially that of the right foot. If you will look at them yourself you will, I think, agree that a woman did stand there at some time after it had rained, and that she was leaning forward on her right foot. Such an attitude would suggest that she was either listening or looking in. To maintain her balance she would have had to rest her hands upon the windowsill. Perhaps a test for fingerprints would determine whether this woman was Meriel Ford.’

  Martin said suddenly and irrelevantly,

  ‘Have you been in Ledshire before, Miss Silver?’

  She smiled.

  ‘Yes, Superintendent.’

  ‘Then I think I have heard of you. Inspector Crisp and Inspector Drake have both mentioned your name. I think you met Crisp over the affairs of the Catherine-Wheel and the Brading Collection. And Drake – yes, Drake was on the Brading case too. Your name was mentioned, but it had slipped my memory.’ He was remembering what he had heard. Crisp had been angry and jealous, but she had been right, and he had been wrong. And Crisp was no fool. ‘If I may say so, no one would suspect you of being a detective.’

  Miss Silver began to put her knitting away.

  ‘I have often found that a considerable help,’ she said.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Ellie Page lay in a state of dazed wretchedness. She made no effort to rouse herself. As long as she did not move, perhaps they would leave her alone. She took the bread-and-milk which Mary brought her in the morning, the bowl of soup and the custard pudding at lunch-time. Mary held them to her lips spoonful by spoonful and she swallowed them. If she had refused, they would have sent for the doctor. So she took them, and turned her face into the pillow again. And at tea-time when she had swallowed a cup of hot milk Mary brought water to wash her face, and then sat down by the bedside.

  ‘Ellie, I’ve got to talk to you.’

  She looked with imploring eyes.

  ‘If I don’t, John will.’

  She had to say it, because it was the truth. There had to be an explanation between her and Ellie, or John would come up and force one on his own account. It seemed dreadful with Ellie lying there as white as the bed linen, but they couldn’t go on like this, and if there was anything to be told it had better be told to her. She said,

  ‘Ellie, it’s no use – you’ll have to tell me what you have been doing. John came home very much upset last night. Someone had told him you were meeting Geoffrey Ford at night. That was why I came up to your room. He said I must ask you about it, or he would. Then, when I came up, the door was locked and you weren’t there.’

  ‘How did you get in?’<
br />
  The trembling words were the first she had spoken, and Mary was thankful to hear them. There is nothing so frustrating as a dumb resistance, and nothing that is harder to break.

  ‘The spare room key fits your lock. When I found the room was empty I had to wait till you came back. And then you fainted.’

  ‘You frightened me. Dreadfully.’

  Mary could only just catch the words, but at least they were being spoken. She steeled herself.

  ‘Ellie, is it true that you have been meeting Geoffrey Ford?’

  There was a faint affirmative movement of the head. Ellie’s frightened eyes looked, and looked away. Tears brimmed up in them and began to run slowly down over the pale cheeks.

  ‘Oh, Ellie!’

  With sudden energy Ellie pushed the bedclothes away from her chin.

  ‘We loved each other!’

  Mary Lenton said,

  ‘He had no right to tell you so. He has a wife.’

  ‘He doesn’t love her! He couldn’t! Nobody could!’

  ‘He married her.’

  ‘He didn’t want to – her father and mother made him!’

  ‘Because he had made love to her and wanted to back out. Suppose it had been you. Suppose he hadn’t a wife now and John made him marry you. Would you feel it was quite all right for him to run after the next girl he fancied?’

  Ellie choked on a sob.

  ‘You’re cruel!’

  ‘I’ve got to be. I’ve got to know. Ellie, how far has this gone? You’re not – you’re not – you didn’t faint because-’

  A pale blush ran up to the roots of Ellie’s hair.

  ‘I wouldn’t – I didn’t! It wasn’t like that at all! We cared, and when you feel like that, you’ve got to meet somehow, and it was too difficult in the day – people talk so in a village, and Edna is so jealous.’

 

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