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 happened 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.’ ”