“His wife was not willing that he should do so.”
“That’s what he said?”
“That is what he said. I will give you as accurate an account of our interview as I can.”
She did so, speaking in her clear, measured voice. From their knowledge of her, both men were aware that the account would be meticulously correct. She would waste no words, but she would omit no detail. The interview with Jimmy Latter took form in both their minds. She said in conclusion,
“I do not know what you will think, but I was very strongly of the opinion that Mrs. Latter’s attacks, which were obviously not of a serious nature, were the result of a spiteful trick. The symptoms were such as would be produced by a simple emetic like ipecacuanha, and except as indicating the presence of ill will towards Mrs. Latter, I did not consider the attacks of any real importance. Mrs. Latter was contemplating extensive changes in the household. I expect you are aware that Mrs. Street and Miss Mercer were leaving, and that a regular staff was to be installed. Mr. Latter was opposing this-or perhaps that is too strong a word, he was not happy about it. It seemed to me that relations in the household were strained, and that the sooner the parties separated the better. I advised him not to prolong the situation. I also told him that it would be as well if Mrs. Latter were protected against any further tampering with her food by confining herself to what other people were eating and drinking. He agreed, but said, ‘She will have her coffee.’ As you probably know, she took Turkish coffee, made specially for her as the rest of the family disliked it. Mr. Latter tells me that from Saturday evening onwards two cupfuls were made and poured out, and that he always took one of them- this being the case yesterday evening when Mrs. Latter succumbed.”
Lamb said, “Yes, there’s a young woman here who has made a statement about those attacks. She’s a flighty piece of goods and not what I’d trust as a witness, only as it happens nobody denies what she says. What I was wondering was whether we’d have heard anything about Mrs. Latter’s attacks if it hadn’t been for this Gladys Marsh-I was just saying so to Frank. But now it seems that Mr. Latter came to you about them, and you thought someone was playing a trick.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“That was my opinion then. I may say that I have not yet seen occasion to alter it.”
Lamb gazed at her with a perfectly stolid face.
“You think the preliminary attacks were not connected with the one which caused her death?”
“I am not prepared to be definite on the subject, but that is what I am inclined to think. They seem too trifling in their nature and effects to constitute a serious attempt upon Mrs. Latter’s life.”
Still with that stolid expression, Lamb said,
“With every respect for your opinion, there’s more than one way of looking at those attacks. You might have a bungler feeling his way-you might have a clever criminal drawing a red herring across the trail-you might have someone who hated Mrs. Latter beginning with a trick and, finding out how easy it was to bring it off, going on to murder.”
Miss Silver inclined her head.
“I would agree with that as a general statement. I do not know enough about the evidence in this case to say how any of these theories would agree with it.”
Lamb cleared his throat, a sound which commanded attention.
“You say Mr. Latter is your client. Are you here to prove that he didn’t poison his wife?”
Miss Silver looked very much shocked. Her tone reproved him.
“I did not think it would be necessary to explain to you what I have put very clearly to Mr. Latter. I am not here to prove anyone guilty or anyone innocent. It is my endeavour in every case I undertake to discover the truth, and to serve the ends of justice.”
Lamb’s colour rose. He said, “Yes, yes,” in an uneasy voice. And then, “No offence meant. But you know, your position-well, I’m within my rights in asking to have it defined.”
“Perhaps you would care to define it, Chief Inspector.”
If the words were formal, the smile which accompanied them had a surprising charm. He felt himself consulted, deferred to. His prickles lay down, his colour came back to its normal crimson. He produced an answering smile.
“Well, if you were a friend of the family and Mr. Latter had a great respect for you and would naturally turn to you for advice-and if you were willing to co-operate with the police-”
Miss Silver made a gracious inclination.
“I should find that perfectly satisfactory.”
Frank Abbott covered his mouth with his hand. The Chief walking on eggshells was a ponderous sight. It was accomplished, and without anything being broken, but the performance lacked grace. Maudie, of course, remained perfectly at her ease, dispensing frowns and smiles at the appropriate moment.
He got back to his Chief Inspector, who was speaking.
“Well now, bearing in mind what I said about a red herring, I’d like to ask you whether Mr. Latter coming to see you last Saturday and telling you someone had been trying to poison his wife-whether that mightn’t have been a put-up job. Suppose he’d made up his mind to get rid of her?”
“With what motive?”
“Jealousy-”
Miss Silver coughed.
“He had no cause for jealousy until Tuesday night, when he found her in his cousin’s room.”
Lamb stared.
“Oh, you know about that?”
“Yes. He had no cause for jealousy until then.”
Lamb looked at her shrewdly.
“Well, that’s all we know. There may be quite a lot we haven’t heard about. Or it mayn’t have been jealousy at all. Mrs. Latter came in for a large fortune from her first husband. We don’t know how it’s been left-not yet. It may go back to his family, or it may not. Mr. Latter says there was some dispute about the will, and a settlement was made out of court-Mrs. Latter and the relations divided the money. Mr. Latter thinks she got her share unconditionally, but he doesn’t know for certain. He says he never talked to his wife about money, and didn’t even know if she had made a will. Well, that sounded like poppycock to me. I got him to ring up her solicitor. There’s a will all right, and they’re posting a copy-it should be here in the morning. If Latter is down for anything considerable, there might be a motive in that. He might think it a pretty clever piece of work to come to you with a story of someone trying to poison his wife, and go away to play the devoted husband sharing his wife’s coffee so that no one should tamper with it… Well, what do you think of that?”
Miss Silver looked at him very seriously.
“Do you know what is Mr. Latter’s chief concern?” she said.
He gave a short laugh.
“I can’t say I do, but I suppose you are going to tell me.”
She said, “Yes. All he wants is an assurance that she did not commit suicide.”
Lamb pushed his chair back a couple of inches.
“What’s that?”
“He wants to be sure that his wife did not commit suicide. It is weighing on him very much that she may have done so. If she did, he thinks that he would be responsible for her death. After the scene in Mr. Antony’s room there was a complete breach between husband and wife. He let two days go by without speaking to her. He is afraid-I believe quite desperately afraid-that she took the morphia herself.”
Lamb thumped the table.
“He wants us to prove that someone murdered her?”
Miss Silver coughed.
“I do not think that he has got as far as that. His mind is fixed upon the dreadful thought that he may have driven her to suicide.”
Lamb leaned forward, a hand on either knee.
“I’d want more than his word before I’d believe that! I’m not saying he’s guilty, but I’m not saying he’s innocent. He’d the strongest motive of anyone, and the best opportunity of making sure that he didn’t get the poisoned cup of coffee himself. Now what you say about his state of mind may be true, in which case he’s an innocent man, and I’m sorry for him. Or he may be the clever criminal I said we might have to look out for, in which case all this about wanting to be sure it wasn’t suicide-don’t you see how it might be just a smoke screen?” He pushed his chair farther back and got up. “Well, I shan’t convert you, and you won’t convert me-not tonight. We’re at the Bull in the village, and if it’s as bad as I think it’s going to be, I shall be glad when the job’s over. One comfort is, Frank’s going to like it a lot less than I do!” He laughed heartily. “If you like, he can step up after supper and let you look through the statements as far as we’ve got. Only mum’s the word.”