“What kind of a hammering sound was it, Polly? Was it loud?”
“Oh, no, miss-only just so as I could hear it. But she would be close up to it, and I don’t knock very loud.”
Miss Silver smiled.
“No-I have noticed that.”
Polly sniffed.
“I don’t seem as if I can-it seems so kind of rude.”
Miss Silver nodded.
“Go on, my dear, you are doing very nicely. You heard the knocking, and you thought Mrs. Latter might be in the bathroom. What did you do then?”
“I opened the door a little and looked in. Mrs. Latter wasn’t there. The door to the bathroom was a bit open, and the hammering came from there. I went across the room to knock on the bathroom door.”
“Go on, Polly.”
Polly looked at her round-eyed.
“I don’t know if you’ve been in Mrs. Latter’s room, miss’ The gentlemen from the police locked it up, but it was open again yesterday. Mrs. Huggins is going to turn it out today.”
“Yes, I have been into it.”
“Then you know, miss, one side of the room’s all looking-glass, and the bathroom too. Mrs. Latter had it done as soon as the war was over. If the bathroom door’s a certain way open, you can see the bath in the looking-glass that’s in the bedroom. I hadn’t gone no more than a few steps, when I could see the bath and I could see Mrs. Latter.”
“You mean you could see her reflection?”
“Yes, miss.”
“What was she doing?”
“She was stooping over the bath. There’s a ledge runs all round it. She’d got a piece of white paper on the ledge, folded over, and she’d got her shoe off, hammering the paper with the heel. That was the knocking I’d heard.”
“Yes, Polly?”
“I didn’t know what to do. I thought I’d wait. She stopped hammering and opened the paper. There was a lot of white powder in it, and one or two bits that wasn’t quite powder yet. There was a box on the ledge. It’s a little box Mrs. Latter has on her dressing-table. It used to be a snuffbox. She took it up and opened it. I could see right inside. There were some white tablets. She took them out and put them down on the white powder, and folded the paper over and hammered them with the heel of her shoe. I didn’t ought to have stood there and watched her, miss-I dunno what come over me to do it-I was kind of frightened.” She caught her breath and twisted the corner of her apron with thin, nervous fingers. “I dunno what come over me-indeed I don’t. It didn’t seem as if I could move, not anyways.”
Miss Silver gave a gentle cough.
“How much of Mrs. Latter could you see, Polly? Could you see her face?”
Polly looked at her with frightened eyes. All the colour seemed to have been cried out of them and out of her face. Only the tip of her little thin nose was red. Her voice jerked and the words stumbled.
“Not at first I couldn’t, not when she was bending over and hammering on the ledge, but when she’d finished and she was putting the powder into the box, I saw her then.”
“How did she look?”
Polly twisted the corner of her apron and shook.
Miss Silver laid a hand on her knee.
“Come, my dear, if you saw her face you can tell me how she looked-grave-sad-unhappy?”
Polly went on shaking.
“Oh, no, miss, she didn’t.”
“Then how did she look?”
Breaking, stumbling, catching on the words, the small scared voice said,
“Oh, miss-she looked-ever so pleased.”
“Are you quite sure about that?”
“Oh, yes, miss. It frightened me ever so-I dunno why.”
“There is no need to be frightened. Did Mrs. Latter see you?”
“Oh, no, miss. When she finished putting the powder in the box I run out on the landing again and shut the door, and I knocked on it real hard and loud. And Mrs. Latter, she come and asked me what I wanted, and I said Mrs. Maniple wanted to know was she coming down to lunch, and she said she was, and I come away. Please, may I go, miss?”
Miss Silver looked at her encouragingly.
“Not just for a minute, Polly. You say Mrs. Latter put the powder into the little box. Had she taken all the tablets out of it? Was the box empty?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Have you seen this box since Wednesday?”
“No, miss.”
“Will you describe it to me?”
“It isn’t very big, but it’s ever so pretty-about two inches long, and all gold round the sides and underneath, with a painted picture on the top-a lady with nothing on but a sash, and a little boy with wings and a bow and arrow. It’s ever so pretty.”
“Just one more question, Polly.” Miss Silver’s voice was so equable that no one could have guessed how anxiously she awaited the answer to this question. “Just one more, and you shall go. Did Mrs. Latter take a bath when she dressed for dinner on Wednesday evening?”
“Oh, no, miss-she wouldn’t do that. Mrs. Latter, she always had her bath when she went to bed at night. The water had to be kept hot for her to have it then.”
Miss Silver said, “Thank you, Polly.” A sober gratitude filled her.
CHAPTER 36
As soon as Polly had hurried away Miss Silver put on her dressing-gown, went downstairs to the study, and called up the Bull. When Frank Abbott came on the line, it was to tell her that the Chief was breakfasting with a view to an early start for Crampton, where he was meeting the Chief Constable and Inspector Smerdon.
Miss Silver coughed in a manner which informed him that she had not come to the telephone to listen. In grammatically correct but unmistakably homemade French she informed him that important new evidence had come to light, and that he should lose no time in repairing to Latter End.
Frank whistled.
“It’s really important?”
Miss Silver coughed.
“It clears my client,” she said, and replaced the receiver.
Sergeant Abbott reported to his Chief Inspector, who was putting away bacon and eggs and looking forward to toast and marmalade. The beds at the Bull had exceeded Frank’s worst fears-lumpy flock mattresses, short sheets, and narrow blankets. The bacon was underdone, but the eggs, being local produce, were fresh. Lamb was not so fastidious as his Sergeant. When he went to bed he slept, and when he sat down to a meal he ate with good appetite. He looked up now as Frank took the chair beside him, observed his expression, and said,
“Well, what is it?”
Sergeant Abbott lifted an eyebrow and said, “Maudie,” adding after an explosive pause-“in French. All very hush-hush.”
Lamb’s shining morning face had become decidedly overcast.
“What’s she want?”
Frank was smiling.
“You, sir-or, shall I say, us. I told her you were meeting the Chief Constable. She says evidence has turned up which will put Latter in the clear.”
Lamb’s voice said in its deepest growl,
“Tell you what it was?”
“No, sir.”
“Mare’s nest,” grunted Lamb. He added gloomily-“as like as not.”
“It sounded a good deal more like the ace of trumps.”
Lamb banged the table.
“Go on-back her up! That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Who do you take your orders from?”
“You, sir,” Voice and manner were deferential in the extreme.
His Chief Inspector looked at him sharply and said,
“Just keep on bearing that in mind, will you!” Then, after a pause, “Well, you’d better go along and see what she’s got. I can be back by half-past ten. If there’s anything urgent, you can give me a ring-Crampton 121.”
Sergeant Abbott had his breakfast, eschewing the bacon and playing for safety by ordering two boiled eggs. He then betook himself to Latter End, and after a short interval rang up the Chief Inspector, who was not best pleased.
“Well, what is it? I’m talking
to the Chief Constable.”
“Well, sir, you told me to ring you up if the new evidence was important-and it is. I think you’d better come out here as soon as you can. Meanwhile I’ve got specimens of a white powder taken from the lady’s bathroom which ought to be analysed without delay. I’ve sealed them up, and the local constable is bringing them out on his bike. We ought to have a report before the inquest opens.”
“Probably toothpowder!”
“I don’t think so, sir.”
The Chief Inspector said, “Tchah!”
CHAPTER 37
Polly had told her story for the third time. Every time she told it she minded less. Probably no one but Miss Silver, with her peculiar mixture of unwavering kindness and unwavering authority, would have made the original breach in a crust of secrecy which was her protective armour. But having spoken once, it was easier to speak again. She told her story to Frank Abbott, and repeated it in front of the Chief Inspector with hardly an alteration in the order of the words. Those who have a small vocabulary are often extremely accurate. Children will repeat a story word for word, partly because there is for them no choice of words. One is reminded of ballads from the childhood of the race, in which gold is always red, and ladies fair. In a village this simplicity of thought persists.
Polly told her story in the only words she knew. By the time she told it to the Chief Inspector she didn’t even want to cry, though she still pleated her apron. When she had finished, and Lamb had asked her as many questions as he wanted to, he let her out of the room and turned to Miss Silver.
“Well, that’s just about upset the apple-cart! I suppose I’ve got to be grateful you dug it out of her before we started on the inquest.”
Miss Silver coughed. She opined that it might be considered as providential.
Lamb was looking at her with a curious mixture of irritation and respect. He gave a short laugh and repeated her last word.
“Providential? Well, I don’t know about that-unless you mean that heaven helps those who help themselves. You’re first class at doing that, I should say. But what I want to know is, what made you think the girl had anything to tell? She wasn’t near the drawing-room, and in the ordinary way she hadn’t anything to do with Mrs. Latter. What made you think she knew something?”
Miss Silver’s hands were busy with her knitting. Derek’s stocking, now of a substantial length, revolved.
“She was afraid.”
Lamb nodded.
“That’s where you’ve got an advantage. When we come into a house after a murder, everyone’s afraid of us, everyone’s watching his step, nobody’s normal-to look for a frightened person is like looking for a pin in a packet of pins. Now you mix with the family. They’re not afraid of you because they don’t know what you’re up to. You sit there with your knitting, and they think that’s all you’ve got on your mind. They don’t bother about you. It gives you a pull, you know.”
She inclined her head.
“I have no doubt, Chief Inspector, that if Polly had been bringing your early tea instead of mine, you would have discerned, as I did, that she had something to conceal.”
Lamb glowered.
“I don’t take the stuff! But there you are, it’s just what I said-you’ve got a pull. Frank, ring up Crampton 121 and ask whether they’ve identified that powder yet. If it’s morphia it shouldn’t take long.”
He sat back in his chair while Frank got the number- listened to his question; listened, frowning, to the vague buzz of the reply; heard Frank say, “Quite so,” and then, “All right, I’ll tell him.”
He hung up.
“It’s morphia all right.”
Miss Silver’s needles clicked. Lamb lifted his hand and let it fall again upon his knee.
“Then she committed suicide. Well, I’m blessed! If that doesn’t beat the band!”
Miss Silver gave her slight arresting cough.
“I think it would be as well if you were to see Miss Mercer.”
Lamb turned to face her.
“Miss Mercer? What’s it got to do with Miss Mercer?”
Miss Silver knitted equably.
“I should like to put some questions to her in your presence if you have no objection.”
Frank Abbott was looking at her too. There was a faint sarcastic sparkle in his eye. He murmured,
“You can’t go on pulling aces out of your sleeve, you know.”
Miss Silver smiled above the clicking needles.
Lamb said roughly, “A little less of your lip, my lad! Better go and get her.”
When the door had closed he turned his reproof upon Miss Silver.
“When I let you in on this case I thought you undertook not to conceal evidence from the police.”
She met his frown serenely.
“But I have concealed nothing, Chief Inspector. Polly’s evidence only came to me this morning. I went straight from her to the telephone. The incident about which I should like to question Miss Mercer occurred in the middle of the night. I have purposely refrained from asking her about it until I could do so in your presence.”
He opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again with an exasperated “Tchah!” After which he drummed on his knee, and Miss Silver continued to knit until the door opened and Minnie Mercer came in with Frank Abbott behind her. She looked perceptibly more worn than she had done yesterday. There was, if possible, less colour in the tired gentle eyes and in the blanched fair skin. The smudges under the eyes were deeper and more like bruises. She sat down on the far side of the table, folded her hands in her lap, and looked at the Chief Inspector. He shook his head.
“It’s Miss Silver who has something she wants to ask you about.”
Minnie Mercer moved, slipping round in the chair until she was leaning against the arm instead of the back. It seemed as if she needed something to lean against. Frank Abbott had the impression that without it she might just have slipped down on to the floor. She turned the same dumb, acquiescent look upon Miss Silver as she had done upon the Chief Inspector.
Miss Silver did not keep her waiting. She said very kindly and gently,
“Miss Mercer, do you know that you sometimes walk in your sleep?”
She was certainly startled. A faint tremor went over her. She said with a catch in her voice,
“I did when I was a girl-after an illness I had-I didn’t know that I ever did it now.”
Miss Silver went on knitting.
“You have done it twice in the last few days-on the night before last, and last night.”
She said, “I didn’t know-” The words were so faint that they could only just be heard.
“On the first occasion Miss Vane followed you down into the hall. She put her arm round you and brought you back to your room. I was watching from the landing. She was very kind and careful, and you did not wake, but just as you got into bed you said in a very distressed voice, ‘What have I done!’ ”
Lamb was sitting so that he could see both women. He was still frowning, but the character of the frown had changed. It indicated concentration now instead of anger. He saw that faint tremor pass over Minnie Mercer again. She did not speak.
Miss Silver continued.
“Last night you walked in your sleep again. I was prepared, and I followed you. You went down into the hall, and just as you reached it Miss Vane came out of her room. By the time she had joined us you were crossing the hall in the direction of the drawing-room. When I saw where you were going I passed you and put on a light. You did not need it, but it was necessary that Miss Vane and I should be able to watch what you did. You were dreaming. Miss Mercer, do you remember your dream?”
“I don’t-know-”
“I will tell you what you did. You stood and looked into the room. You seemed distressed, and you said, ‘No, no-he doesn’t like it!’ Then you went to the small table near the middle of the room. That is the table upon which Miss Vane placed the coffee-tray on Wednesday night.”
Minnie Mercer s
aid, “Yes-” The sound just carried and no more.
“You put out your hand towards the table. You stood there for a moment. Then you turned a little to the right and went over to Mr. Latter’s chair. The table beside it is the one upon which his coffee-cup was placed on Wednesday night. You put out your hand again. You put out your hand as if you were holding something-you put it out as if you were setting something down. Miss Mercer-on Wednesday night did you take a cup of coffee from the tray and carry it over to the table beside Mr. Latter’s chair?”
Minnie looked at her with dilated eyes. She made the sound that she had made before. They thought the sound was “Yes-”
“When you took that cup from the tray, were there two cups there, or only one?”
Minnie said, “One-”
“When you went over to the table by Mr. Latter’s chair, was there a cup there already?”
“Yes-”
“What did you do?”
“I changed the cups.”
“You put down the one you had brought from the tray and took up the other?”
“Yes-I changed the cups.”
“Will you tell us why you did this?”
A long sigh lifted her breast.
“Yes-I’ll tell you. Oh, I didn’t want Jimmy to know-but it can’t be helped-”
Lamb said, “Miss Mercer, it is my duty to warn you that what you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you.”
She gave him a fleeting glance and shook her head.
“It’s not like that. I’ll tell you how it was.”
Frank Abbott took up his pad and began to write.
She spoke quite calmly, almost with an air of relief, her voice exhausted but quite audible now.
“When I made my statement I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I didn’t say everything, because I didn’t want Jimmy to know. When I came to the door on Wednesday night Mrs. Latter was standing by the tray just as I said in my statement. I thought she was putting sugar into one of the cups-I really did think so. She was tipping it in out of a little ornamental snuffbox she has. I never thought about its not being sugar, or glucose-one of those things. I just thought it was some new kind of fancy sweetening stuff. She was like that, you know-always trying new things. And sometimes she would go in for slimming-I thought perhaps it was something to do with that. She put all the stuff into the cup and stirred it up. Then she put two lumps of sugar in and stirred them up too. And she took up the little bottle of cognac and put in quite a lot. I thought it was her own cup, but she took it over and put it down by Jimmy’s chair. I thought how he would hate it.” She paused, closed her eyes for a moment, and then went on again. “He doesn’t like things very sweet-he doesn’t take more than one lump in tea or coffee. I thought Mrs. Latter ought to have known that-I thought she must have known it. Everyone knew how much he disliked her Turkish coffee, and that he only drank it because she said she thought someone was trying to poison her. Everybody knew that. I am afraid I thought that she was putting all that sugar in out of spite-to make it as nasty as possible for him. I couldn’t bear it, and I changed the cups.”
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