Mr. Brading's Collection

by Patricia Wentworth

  ‘Now, Miss Grey, I have your statement here. I am sorry to trouble you, but it will help us if you will just run through the whole thing again. By the way, I don’t know if you have met Miss Silver. She is a private enquiry agent. Mr. Brading approached her in the first instance, and she is now representing Major Forrest. If you have no objection, I should like her to be present.’

  ‘No — no — of course — I mean, I don’t mind at all. Charles told me.’

  ‘Then if you don’t mind, Miss Grey, I should like you to go back to the door and come in again. I want you to imagine that I am Mr. Brading sitting here. And then I want you to do and say what you did and said on Friday afternoon.’

  Miss Silver had thought Miss Grey very pale when she came in. She became perceptibly paler now.

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t — I don’t really think—’

  ‘I would like you to try, Miss Grey. If what you say in your statement is correct, I do not quite see why you should make any objection.’

  She put her handkerchief to her lips. Behind the linen screen she moistened them.

  “I’ll do what I can —’

  She went to the door, still holding the handkerchief. As she turned to repeat her entry, March stopped her.

  ‘Had you a handkerchief in your hand?’

  ‘No — no — oh, no.’

  ‘We will try to be as exact as possible, so will you put it away. You had that bag?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘In your left hand?’

  ‘Under my arm.’

  ‘Well then, you came in. What did you do?’

  She tried to remember what she had said in the statement. The words were there, written down, but between those words and her recollection of them there rose the picture that was never far from her mind. Her lips were so dry that she had to moisten them again. She didn’t know what to say — but she must say something, or they would think — they would think—

  She came half-way to the table and stammered,

  ‘I don’t know — you’re making me nervous. I suppose I said, “How do you do?”’

  ‘And Brading?’

  ‘I suppose he did too.’

  ‘And then? What did you do?’

  ‘I can’t remember every single thing.’

  ‘Just do your best. Show me what you did next.’

  She came the rest of the way, nervous, hesitating, her eyes on March. When she reached the table she stood there. Her hand came out and closed on the table edge.

  Crisp looked at her sharply. He had been thinking all this a piece of tomfoolery, but now he wasn’t so sure. He had an accurate mind, and he remembered her statement. It said that she came in and sat down at the table and talked to Mr. Brading about a bit of business, which is what she would have done if she had had a bit of business to talk about. Well, now she had been asked to show just what she did, and she hadn’t so much as looked round to see if there was a chair, she just came up to the table and held on to it.

  The Chief Constable said,

  ‘You were touching the table like that?’

  She let go of it in a hurry.

  ‘No— no — I don’t think so.’

  ‘Well, try and stick to just what you did on Friday. Did you stand like you’re doing now?’

  A feeling of panic came to her. She tried to remember just what she had said.... Something about talking to Lewis — sitting down and talking to him. She said as quickly as she could get it out,

  ‘No, no, I sat down.’

  ‘Where?’

  There had been a chair. Every time she shut her eyes she could see the table, and Lewis. There had been a chair — a little to the right of where she was standing now. She moved a hand and said,

  ‘There.’

  At a look from the Chief Constable Crisp got up and set a chair where she was pointing. She was very glad to sit down.

  March said,

  ‘And then?’

  ‘We began to talk about business. I had come to ask him about investing some money.’

  That was what she had said in her statement. She was doing all right now. If she stuck to that, they couldn’t trap her. She had only got to say that bit about a mortgage falling in, and wanting Lewis to advise her about investing the money. She began to say it.

  When she was about half-way through she saw that Miss Silver was looking at her. Such an odd look. Not unkind, not exactly stern. More as if she was sorry about something. Her voice began to falter.

  ‘He said — to put it — into government — securities—’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘That was — all. I mean — of course — we talked about it a little—’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Oh, just — what did he think would be best — that sort of thing.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘To put it — into — government securities—’

  ‘That was all he said?’

  She felt relief. They were coming to the end. She had got through. She said,

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Nothing about the Marziali brooch?’

  She gazed at him with dilated eyes. Her tongue crept out and touched her lips.

  ‘I don’t know — what you mean—’

  ‘Don’t you, Miss Grey?’

  She shook her head.

  Miss Silver put down her knitting and came over to her. She had a glass of water in her hand.

  ‘I think you had better drink this, Miss Grey.’

  The water was held to her lips. She drank. Some of it spilled. She drank again. Miss Silver set the glass down on the table and said in a kind, firm voice,

  ‘Now you must listen to the Chief Constable.’

  March said,

  ‘On Thursday evening you were present with a number of other people in the outer room of the annexe when Brading showed his Collection. The Marziali brooch is listed as part of it. It has five large brilliants, and it is of considerable value. Mrs. Constantine deposes that she saw you take it away in your bag. What have you to say to that?’

  ‘Oh — it isn’t true—’ She reached for the water, gulped a mouthful, and almost dropped the glass upon the table.

  March continued in an even voice.

  ‘Mrs. Constantine says she waited till everyone was gone and informed Brading of what she had seen. She says, Miss Grey, that he did not appear to be surprised, but stated that he would deal with the matter. He telephoned to you, did he not, just before lunch on Friday?’

  She said in a choking voice,

  ‘It was about the investments — about my coming down to see him—’

  ‘Now, Miss Grey, you need not answer unless you wish to. I have to tell you that anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence. And I must tell you that this statement of Mrs. Constantine’s and your own attitude bring you under very strong suspicion in regard to Mr. Brading’s murder. He had reason to believe that you had stolen a valuable brooch. He had sent for you in order to deal with the matter. You came, and you saw him. You brought back the brooch, because it was found in this drawer, which was standing open. If he threatened you with exposure, you had a strong motive. The weapon with which he was shot was brought from Saltings. The weapon which was in his drawer was taken back to Saltings—’

  She cried out, ‘Stop — stop! I didn’t!’ She clutched Miss Silver’s arm in a bruising grip. ‘Don’t let him! Make him stop! I didn’t!’

  Miss Silver detached the clinging hands in a perfectly kind but firm manner. For his part, Randal March, who had sometimes wished her away, was at this moment quite unfeignedly glad of her presence. Hysterical women were the devil.

  Miss Silver said in her voice of authority,

  ‘Pray calm yourself, Miss Grey.’

  ‘But I didn’t — I didn’t touch him — or the revolver! I couldn’t! Things like that frighten me to death! Oh, you don’t think I shot him! Mr. March, you can’t — you can’t think I shot him!’

  He made no r
eply. Miss Silver said,

  ‘Miss Grey, you must please control yourself. If you are innocent you have nothing to fear. If you wish to make any explanation—’

  ‘He won’t listen to me! No one will listen! You won’t believe me! Oh, can’t you make him listen!’ She was sobbing in a helpless terrified manner.

  Miss Silver put a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Anything you have to say will be listened to. You will not be compelled to speak, or pressed to do so, but you are perfectly at liberty to make a statement. Inspector Crisp will write down what you say. Afterwards it will be read over to you, and you may sign it if you are willing to do so. No pressure of any kind will be put upon you. Now just take another drink of water, and make up your mind if there is anything you wish to say.’

  Lilias put out a shaking hand for the glass, drank between sobbing breaths, and set the glass down again. Some of the water had spilled and was running down her chin. She dabbed at it with her handkerchief and said,

  ‘Oh, Mr. March, I didn’t shoot him. He was dead when I came.’

  There was a definite feeling of shock in the room. Miss Silver said, ‘Dear me!’ Standing beside Miss Grey, she observed her with the closest attention. She was no longer collapsed and unstrung. It was as though the shock produced by her words had had the effect of steadying her. She was trembling a little, but she no longer sagged in her chair. She had ceased to sob.

  Randal March said,

  ‘Do you wish to make a statement to that effect?’

  ‘Yes — yes — of course I do. I must. I can’t let anyone think — oh, it’s horrible!’

  ‘Brading was dead when you came into this room on Friday afternoon?’

  Her words came with feverish energy.

  ‘Yes, yes, of course! Don’t you see, that’s why I couldn’t tell you what he said, or what I said. He was dead. It was the most horrible shock I’ve ever had. I just came into the room, and he was dead.’

  Miss Silver came quietly back to her seat and took up her knitting. Miss Grey was quite steady now. She would not become hysterical again. This one most startling admission made, the rest would be easy. She quoted a French proverb to herself — Ce n’est que le premier pas qui coûte.’

  Randal March was going over the arrival in the annexe.

  ‘Who let you in, Miss Grey?’

  ‘The door was ajar,’ she said.

  ‘Did that surprise you?’

  ‘Yes — no — I thought Lewis had left it like that for me.’

  ‘Was there a light inside?’

  ‘Yes — like it was today.’

  ‘Only one light burning?’

  A shiver went over her.

  ‘Yes — it was dark coming in—’

  ‘Was the passage beyond lighted?’

  ‘Yes — just like today.’

  ‘And the laboratory?’

  The shiver again.

  ‘Oh, yes — dreadfully bright.’

  ‘Tell me exactly what you saw when you came in.’

  Inspector Crisp was writing it all down, but she didn’t mind. She couldn’t get it out fast enough now that she had begun.

  ‘I came round the door, and just for a minute I thought he was asleep. His head was down on the table. I came a little nearer and I saw that he had been shot.’

  ‘Why didn’t you give the alarm?’

  She said in a queer slow voice.

  ‘I— don’t — know. It was — a shock. I just stood there — I didn’t seem to be able to move.’

  ‘But that passed — you did move?’

  She said, ‘Yes, I went to see if he was — dead.’

  ‘Will you show me just how he was lying.’

  ‘His head — was just on the edge — of the blotting-pad.’

  March pushed back his chair and got up.

  ‘I should like you to come round and show me just how the body was lying.’

  She came round the table and showed him, taking up very exactly the position in which Lewis Brading had been found.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Grey.’

  She went back to her seat, and he to his.

  ‘The right arm was hanging down?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Did you see the weapon?’

  ‘It was lying there on the floor — as if he had just dropped it. I thought he had shot himself.’

  ‘Did you know of any reason why he should shoot himself?’

  ‘Oh, no.’

  ‘But you thought it was suicide?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you give the alarm?’

  ‘I — I—’

  ‘Miss Grey, the first shock had passed. You had begun to reason. Your mind was sufficiently active to formulate the theory that Brading had committed suicide. Your natural course would be to run over to the house and give the alarm. Why didn’t you do so?’

  Her hands were picking at her wet handkerchief.

  ‘I was afraid.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I was afraid they’d think—’ She stuck there.

  ‘You were afraid they would think you had shot him?’

  She caught her breath.

  ‘Well, you did think so, didn’t you?’

  ‘Because a very strong motive had emerged.’

  Miss Silver addressed the Chief Constable with polite formality.

  ‘Pray forgive me — may I ask Miss Grey a question?’

  ‘Oh, certainly.’

  She looked across the pink wool and said,

  ‘Had you any reason to suppose that this motive would appear? When Mr. Brading talked to you on the telephone, did he tell you that Mrs. Constantine had seen you take the Marziali brooch?’

  There was a moment when March feared a recurrence of the hysterical sobbing. But it passed. Lilias Grey said, ‘Oh!’ on a note of outrage. Then she drew herself up and had recourse to words instead of tears.

  ‘Myra Constantine is a vulgar, interfering old woman. She thinks everyone has the same low motives as herself. And Lewis has always listened to her. He was most unkind, most unfair.’ She tried for, and actually achieved, an air of dignity. ‘I borrowed the brooch because it interested me very much and I wanted to make a sketch of it. I was thinking of writing some articles on jewellery. I didn’t ask Lewis, because he was sure to make difficulties. I meant just to make a joke of it and return the brooch next day. And then he rang up and was most disagreeable. And of course I knew Myra would make mischief about it if she could. So when I found Lewis dead like that I thought it would be much simpler if I just slipped away and didn’t say anything.’

  It was at this moment that March really began to believe that she was speaking the truth. Only the natural processes of a completely inconsequent mind could have produced so perfect an example of unreason. He could not bring himself to believe that it could be simulated. He had to make an effort in order to focus his own thoughts again.

  ‘You made up your mind that you would just go away and say nothing?’

  She said in quite a pleased voice, ‘I thought it was the best thing to do.’ What a woman! Well, he must get what he could out of her.

  ‘Now, Miss Grey, you were here for about ten minutes. What did you do after you had made up your mind to say nothing?’

  ‘I put the brooch into that second drawer. It was open.’

  ‘Was there a revolver in the drawer?’

  ‘No — it was on the floor.’

  ‘Did you see a second revolver anywhere?’

  She looked surprised.

  ‘Oh, no. I’m sure he only had the one.’

  ‘Well, you put the brooch in the drawer. What else did you do?’

  A startled expression came and went. It was so slight, so fleeting, that only Miss Silver noticed it.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘You have ten minutes to account for. I don’t think you have accounted for them yet. What did you do after you put the brooch in the drawer?’

  Thi
s time he was aware that she was rattled. She said,

  ‘I came away.’

  March shook his head.

  ‘Oh, no, not immediately. You have that ten minutes to account for. Perhaps I can help you. Did you see a metal tray on the table?’

  ‘I — I don’t know — I may have done.’

  ‘Come, Miss Grey, I think you must have seen it. Where was it?’

  ‘Over — over there.’ She pointed to an empty space on his left hand.

  ‘Was it empty?’

  ‘I — I think so.’

  March said, ‘You see it’s all coming back. Just go on trying. Did you see Brading’s will?’

  She said, ‘Oh!’ like someone who has missed his footing.

  ‘Did you see it, Miss Grey?’

  She stared at him helplessly and burst into tears.

  Miss Silver laid down her knitting and said very firmly indeed,

  ‘Miss Grey, if you do not tell the truth you will, I believe, bring very serious trouble on yourself. I think you did see Mr. Brading’s will. I believe that it was lying there on the table. You saw it, and you read it. It made you very angry to think that Mrs. Robinson would come in for all that money. I do not suppose that you reasoned any further than that. If that will were destroyed, the money would come to Major Forrest, and if the money came to Major Forrest, you would certainly get a share of it. Shall I tell you what you did? The will-form was not very large. You took out your handkerchief and you lifted the metal tray across to the far right-hand corner of the table. You were collected enough to remember that you must avoid leaving fingerprints. You laid the will-form on the metal tray, and you struck a match — since you smoke you would probably have matches in your bag.’

  ‘How do you know that I smoke?’

  Miss Silver said,

  ‘I asked Mrs. Constantine. You struck a match, set light to the will-form, and watched it burn. That is what you did, did you not?’

  Lilias threw out her hands. The shredded handkerchief dropped to the floor.

  ‘Oh — oh — oh!’ she cried. ‘How did you know?’