Miss Silver stood with her fingertips resting lightly on the edge of the table. She smiled benignly and said,
“Ah, yes-the wallet-I meant to tell you about that. It is extremely interesting.”
March restrained himself.
“What did you mean to tell me?”
“A very interesting fact, Randall.”
“Well?”
She gave her slight cough.
“In our previous discussion we were upon rather theoretical ground. As you produced the supposition that Robbins had concealed the wallet amongst his papers, I met theory with theory and held back my fact. To tell you the truth, I was doubtful of its reception and hoped to be able to reinforce it. Now that so much else has come out, I see no reason why I should not tell you what I know.”
“I am glad about that. What are you going to tell me?”
“That the wallet was certainly not in that chest of drawers this morning.”
Frank Abbott’s faint sarcastic smile went out. March said,
“What!”
“It was not there when I searched the room this morning.”
“You searched the room this morning?”
“Yes, Randall. I removed all the drawers from the chest, and I searched every drawer. The wallet was not then in any of them, nor was it lodged in the frame where Frank and Sergeant Smith found it this afternoon.”
March looked at her severely.
“You know, you really had no business-”
She gave him a disarming smile.
“I am aware of that, and prepared to hear you say so.”
Frank Abbott’s hand went up to his mouth. He heard her say,
“That of course is why I preferred to hold my fact in reserve.”
March was frowning.
“And now we’ve got it, what does it amount to? Evidence that Robbins concealed the wallet when he knew that the house was to be searched?”
Miss Silver shook her head.
“No, Randall-there was no opportunity after that. You spoke about the search to Captain Pilgrim and sent Judy Elliot for Frank and Sergeant Smith. Robbins was then downstairs. Mrs. Robbins tells me that he heard Judy give her message, and immediately after that the front-door bell rang and he went to answer it. As he crossed the hall he met Captain Pilgrim and asked him whether it was true that the house was to be searched. When he had let Miss Freyne in he came back to the kitchen, where he remained until Miss Columba took him to the morning-room. Before he had any opportunity of getting to his room Frank and Sergeant Smith were there.”
She spoke in a pleasant, reasonable manner, but March’s frown deepened.
“Then he put it there earlier-that’s all. He would most likely be up in his room before lunch. The wallet could have been hidden in the back of the chest then-or after lunch. I can’t pretend to give the exact moment, but there was plenty of time between your search and the official one.”
She bowed her head as if admitting agreement.
“Plenty of time, as you say. And what motive? I cannot find one. Whereas Miss Day’s motive would be very strong. Since it is certain that the wallet had been placed in the chest only a very short time before it was found there, you have, I think, to consider the motive very carefully. You have also to consider why so incriminating a piece of evidence was preserved. I believe that it was Miss Day who kept it, and that she did so with the intention of using it to divert suspicion from herself. If Robbins had been guilty he would have destroyed it long ago.”
March waited until she had finished. Then he said with evident restraint,
“I am sorry, but I simply cannot agree. You have built up an ingenious theory without any evidence to support it. As you know, I have a great respect for your opinion, but you would not expect me to accept it against my own judgment. To my mind there could hardly be a clearer case.”
Miss Silver shook her head slightly.
“Thank you for listening to me so patiently,” she said. “I must not take up any more of your time.”
She went to the door, smiled at Frank Abbott who stood there to open it for her, and was gone.
chapter 37
March went up to see Jerome Pilgrim, and went alone. Miss Silver had not convinced him, but she had disturbed his mind. The suggestion that after three, and possibly four, deaths the person responsible for them had remained unsuspected and was still at large was calculated to plant a thorn, and a very uncomfortable and irritating thorn at that. To vary the simile, he was in the position of a man who does not believe in ghosts, but does not rest easy in a haunted house.
He found himself sitting opposite Jerome and saying,
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
“Not at all. I wanted to see you.”
“I’m afraid this must have been a shock.”
“To us all. It doesn’t seem possible that it was Robbins, and yet I suppose-”
“I can’t see that there’s any doubt about it. But I’m anxious to know what you heard.”
Jerome lifted a hand from the arm of his chair and let it fall again.
“I can’t be sure that I heard anything.”
March looked over his shoulder.
“You’ve two windows looking out that way.”
“Yes.”
“You had the wireless on?”
“Miss Day had turned it on. I wasn’t listening.”
“What was on-music?”
“It was a band programme. I’ve looked it up since. I couldn’t have told you if I hadn’t.”
“That argues an uncommon degree of abstraction, doesn’t it? Were you reading?”
“No. I was-thinking of other things.” After a moment’s hesitation he continued. “As a matter of fact Miss Freyne and I had just become engaged-my mind was entirely taken up with my great good fortune. I’m afraid I was for the time being completely oblivious to what was going on around me. As this is not exactly the moment to give out the engagement, I shall be glad if you will keep it to yourself.”
March said sincerely, “I’m very glad. I can see no reason why it should be mentioned until you wish it.”
“Well, that’s the position-I don’t know whether I heard anything or not. I have an impression that I did, but nothing to swear to.”
“Will you tell me just what happened from the time Miss Freyne left?”
“Certainly. I came up here, found Abbott and Smith had finished and gone upstairs, and sat down where I am now. Miss Day came in in rather a fuss-an excellent nurse but rather inclined to pull on the leading-rein-”
March interrupted him.
“What do you mean by ‘in rather a fuss’?”
Jerome laughed.
“She thought I’d been doing too much, scolded me about it, and ordered me to rest. She switched on the wireless and went off to get my tea.”
“Did she come back again?”
“Yes. She was here when Robbins came to the door.”
“Did you know it was Robbins?”
“Yes-I heard his voice.”
“Did you hear what he said?”
“Only that he wanted to see me. I wish now-” He broke off, frowning. “He was upset about the search, you know. We met in the hall when he was going to let Miss Freyne in, and he asked me about it then. I thought he would just be wanting to harp on it, and I wasn’t feeling like a wrangle, so I let Lona send him away.”
“You didn’t hear what she said to him?”
“No, just their voices. She went out of the room and shut the door.”
“How long were they talking? Have you any idea?”
“I don’t know that I have-I wasn’t really attending. I do remember a vague impression that Robbins was making rather a song and dance about it.”
“You thought it was Robbins who was doing the talking?”
“I had that impression. Look here, why not ask Miss Day about it? She’ll know.”
March nodded.
“Oh, yes. I just wanted your side of it. What h
appened next? Did Miss Day come back?”
“Almost at once.”
“Did she stay?”
“No-just said Robbins wanted to see me and she’d told him he couldn’t. Then she went off to get my tea.”
“And how long was she away that time?”
Jerome smiled disarmingly.
“I’m afraid I have no idea. That was where I rather lost myself.”
“When Miss Day did come back, did she seem just as usual?”
“No-she was upset and trying to hide it. I could see at once that something had happened. She brought in my tray and set it down, and I said, ‘What’s the matter?’ She went over and turned off the wireless and said, ‘It’s no good- you’ll have to know.’ I said, ‘What is it?’ and she told me Robbins had committed suicide.”
“She was upset?”
“Who wouldn’t be? He’d just been speaking to her. I suppose it means he did Henry in, but I don’t seem able to believe it.”
March leaned forward.
“Look here, Pilgrim, will you give me a straight answer? Clayton was, I gather, a philanderer. Did you ever suspect that he took an interest in Miss Day?”
“I should have said he hardly knew her.”
“That sort of thing isn’t always a matter of time. The fact is, a letter has turned up-lodged in the chimney of the room Clayton used to occupy-the one Miss Silver has now. An attempt had been made to burn it, but the draught had carried it up the chimney. Miss Silver suggests that it was written by Miss Day.”
“Surely the writing-”
“I’m afraid not. It’s written in pencil with the sort of clumsy capitals of a child’s copybook-no date, no address, no signature. It says, ‘I must see you just once more to say good-bye. As soon as it is safe. I shall be waiting. I must see you just once more. Burn this.’ ”
Jerome’s shoulder lifted.
“Well, you know, it might be from anyone.”
“So I told her.” March’s tone was dry. “Imagination has its uses, but women have too much of it-they work it to death.”
Jerome gave a short laugh.
“I wonder how many letters of this sort Henry had had in his time. I should say the only novel feature was the attempt to disguise the handwriting. Women are not generally so discreet, especially when they are working up for a final scene.”
“You think it was that?”
“Looks like it.”
There was a moment of silence. Then March said,
“Then you never saw any sign of mutual attraction between Clayton and Miss Day?”
“It never came into my head. Henry had that sort of manner with women-he looked at every girl he met as if he were head over ears in love with her. And of course they fell for it.”
“Do you mean that he looked like that at Miss Day and she fell for it?”
“My dear March, he looked like that at my Aunt Columba-he looked like that at old Mrs. Pell, Pell’s mother, when she wasn’t far short of a hundred-he looked like that at Mrs. Robbins. And they all fell for it. I don’t suppose Lona was any different from the rest, but as to anything serious-as you say, Miss Silver has too much imagination.”
All the same, when March came out of Jerome’s room and saw Judy Elliot at the end of the passage he walked to meet her.
“Will you do something for me, Miss Elliot?”
“Of course.”
“Could we go into your room for a minute?”
They went in. He left the door open, standing just inside where he could see the corridor and the door opening on the back stair.
“I just want to time something. I want to know just how long it would take anyone to run up those stairs, lock Mrs. Robbins’ door, go into the next room as far as the window, and come back again. I want to time you whilst you do all that.”
Judy looked doubtful.
“I think Mrs. Robbins is up there asleep.”
“Well, try the locking business with one of the other doors. You had better go up first and prospect. I want you to know exactly what you are going to do, and to do it as quickly as you can. You don’t need to go into the first room, only open the door just far enough to get the key, then put it in on the outer side and turn it in the lock. After that go into the attic from which Major Pilgrim and Robbins fell, walk across it to the window, stand there whilst you count ten, and then come down as fast as you can. I want you to start from just outside Captain Pilgrim’s room and come back there. Abbott says you’re to be trusted. I’m checking up on something, and I don’t want it talked about.”
Judy gave a little nod.
“I won’t talk.”
“All right. Now go off and have a look at the course!”
When she came back he sent her to the end of the passage.
“Turn when you get there, and I’ll take the time from that.”
A minute later she passed him running lightly, and was out of sight on the stairs. Standing there and listening, he could hear her. But if he hadn’t been listening… He wondered. And if she had taken off her shoes, there wouldn’t have been anything to hear at all. The old builders built well and solidly. Not a stair had creaked, and the walls were thick.
He stood looking at his watch, and heard the light footsteps come again. She was back to where she had started in just two and a half minutes.
chapter 38
As Frank Abbott passed through the hall he was aware of Miss Silver at the morning-room door. She seemed to be emerging, but as soon as she saw him she stepped back. As she continued to hold the door open and looked at him with a smile, he rightly supposed that he was being invited to enter. When he had done so she closed the door and moved away from it.
“I am glad to have seen you. I was coming to ask Superintendent March whether a search of the other rooms was intended.”
The formality amused him. Superintendent March! And she had been calling him Randall under all their noses for the last half hour! He wondered whether it was decorum or disapproval which dictated the change.
He said, “I don’t think so,” and saw her purse her lips. There was no doubt of the disapproval now.
“Frank, it is of the first necessity that Miss Janetta’s room should be searched, and immediately. The Superintendent has seen Miss Day, has he not?”
“Yes, he’s seen her.”
“Will you tell me what passed-what he said to her, and she to him?”
“Well-I don’t know-”
“Was the subject of hashish mentioned? Indeed you must tell me. It is of the first importance.”
“Well-”
She interrupted.
“Was it mentioned?”
He smiled at her.
“You don’t give me time-do you?”
She said very gravely,
“There may be no time at all. Was it mentioned?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Pray tell me what was said.”
“March asked her about Robbins-whether she knew that he had this drug, and whether she had ever seen him under its influence. Then he asked her whether she had ever suspected that Jerome was being doped.”
“What was her answer?”
“She was much overcome. She exclaimed, ‘How wicked!’ ” His voice was dry in the extreme.
Miss Silver said,
“That would be enough to put her on her guard. I am persuaded that she has a supply of the drug. She will now take the first opportunity of getting rid of it. It may already be too late, but Miss Janetta’s room should be searched at once.”
“Why Miss Janetta’s room?”
Her look reproved him.
“My dear Frank, it is surely the obvious place. If you had an illicit drug to conceal, would you ask a better place than the room of a malade imaginaire? Miss Janetta enjoys her ill health and affords it a full complement of medicaments-the array of bottles in her room is quite staggering. How easy to hide the pin you wish to conceal in a box full of somebody else’s pins! If I were in Miss Day’s predi
cament I would certainly have placed my stock of cannabis indica in one of Miss Janetta’s pill-boxes, and if I had not already removed and destroyed it I should at this moment be engaged in doing so.”
He found the suggested picture an entrancing one. Maudie, the soul of rectitude, in possession of an illicit drug- Maudie suspected by the police and driven to the destruction of her secret store! The vision was delectable in the extreme. He gazed at her with admiration and said,
“You know, you’re wasted on virtue. You’d have made the most marvellous criminal.”
“My dear Frank!”
He made haste to placate her.
“Don’t crush me-I’m a sensitive plant. I’m just having a spasm of being glad you’re not on the other side. Murder as one of the fine arts wouldn’t be in it.”
She shook her head at him.
“There is no time to be lost. Will you go to the Superintendent-”
“It wouldn’t be any good. It would only put his back up. He never did like the idea of searching that room. It’s the sort of thing that gets the police a bad name-invalid old lady prostrated with grief howked out of bed and into hysterics. Nobody but you would have screwed him up to it in the first place. Mind you, to do him justice, I believe he’d face up to any amount of adverse criticism if he thought it was called for in the way of doing his job, but he’s dead against stirring up a lot of trouble for what he thinks is no reason at all. He gave in to you and ordered the search because he respects your judgment even when he doesn’t agree with it. But all this was before Robbins went out of the window. As far as March is concerned, that alters the whole case and puts a full stop to it. If you ask him to have Miss Janetta’s room searched now, he will say no. He won’t like saying no to you, and he won’t like being put in the position of having to say it. Speaking very respectfully, I would suggest that it isn’t good tactics to ask for something that you know will be refused. You lose-prestige. And prestige is always the ace in your hand when you are playing this kind of game. No good throwing it away, you know.”
Pilgrim’s Rest Page 21