‘How?’
‘One was thrown from his horse at his own front door. He received a bad head injury and never recovered consciousness. The other, his grandson, was supposed to have been set upon by footpads. He also received an injury to his head.’
Stephen’s eyes met hers with a look of horror.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I am repeating what was said to me. I asked no questions, because I did not think the moment a suitable one. Nor do I think that this is a moment to explore its possibilities. What we must do, and that without delay, is to effect an entrance into the passages which Candida believed to exist between the walls in the old part of the house.’
‘Passages!’
‘She believed that one of them opened into her room. She told me she had waked in the night to see a streak of light in the recess between the fireplace and the window. There are shelves there, and from her description they may conceal a door. She spoke of someone coming through the room from that direction with a torch held low. It may have been a dream, but it may not. If this door exists, we must locate it without delay. Miss Olivia has just rung up to say that she will be coming over to fetch the rest of her things. If she arrives and Candida is still absent, neither you nor I will be in a position to conduct a search. I think we should lose no time.’
But time was not to be permitted them. They had hardly reached Candida’s room, and Stephen had done no more than take a look at the book-lined recess, when Derek Burdon came knocking at the door.
‘Look here,’ he said, ‘Miss Olivia has just arrived. I was at my window and I saw Joseph drive up. Did you know she was coming over?’
Miss Silver said, ‘Dear me!’ It was the strongest expression she permitted herself. It appeared to be surprised from her, for she made haste to tone it down by saying, ‘Yes, she rang up just now. She must have come straight from the telephone. She spoke to Anna and told her that she would be fetching the rest of her things and taking her back.’
Derek looked relieved.
‘Then we just keep out of the way, don’t you think? By the by, Mrs. Bell hasn’t turned up – the daily, you know. Anna says she wasn’t too keen about stopping yesterday. She was going on about getting mixed up with the police and not liking it. So if Anna is going too, it puts us in a bit of a spot, doesn’t it?’
Miss Silver had opened her lips to speak, when a sound reached them from the passage. Derek had left the door open, and what they all heard was the sound of footsteps. A moment later Olivia Benevent stood upon the threshold looking in. She was in black from head to foot. A deep mourning veil was thrown back. It framed the sallow face and fell in folds about her shoulders. Her black eyes looked from one to the other in a scornful question. The brows above them were arched as if in surprise. She took her time before she spoke.
‘Derek – you are still here? I imagined that you were leaving us… Miss Silver, is it not? Louisa Arnold introduced you, I believe. I hardly expected to meet you here… And Mr. Eversley – I hoped we had made it quite clear that we did not propose to employ you further.’
It was Miss Silver who answered her. She said with quiet composure,
‘I came last night, Miss Benevent, on Miss Sayle’s invitation. It did not seem right to her friends that she should be here without an older woman to countenance her.’
Her calm look met Miss Olivia’s insolent one without giving way to it.
Miss Benevent came a step into the room. ‘In view of what Anna has just told me my plans are altered. Since Candida has seen fit to leave Underhill, there is no occasion for me to do so. I have sent Joseph to fetch what I took away with me. As he and Anna will be here and Mrs. Bell will doubtless return, I shall be well provided with household help and need make no demands upon Miss Silver. As for you, Mr. Eversley, I hope I have made myself clear. Your services are not required.’
Thoughts presented themselves to Miss Silver’s mind. The legal position was known to Miss Benevent. She had left Underhill in that knowledge. The house and its contents had passed to Candida Sayle. If she now returned, what gave her the assurance that the situation had changed? What supported her in the assumption that the field was clear before her, and that Candida would not return? Only such an assumption would warrant the tone she was now adopting. She said with something more than her usual dignity,
‘In all the circumstances, I think you must agree the police should be informed that Miss Sayle has disappeared.’
Stephen said, ‘Miss Silver – ’
Olivia Benevent gave a short laugh.
‘And do you suppose she will thank you for that? It is obvious that Mr. Eversley does not think so. Ring them up by all means if you think it wise. I imagine they will arrive at the same conclusion that I do myself. I have made no secret of the fact that I believe the girl to be responsible for my sister’s death. Anna tells me that she left a note which practically amounts to a confession – “I can’t go on. Goodbye” or some such matter. I am afraid I shall be obliged to think very poorly of your intelligence if you do not conclude, as I do, that she has felt unable to brazen it out any longer. The police had been put on their guard, I myself had accused her, and she has, quite simply, run away. If you wish to use the telephone you can do so, but after that I must ask you to leave the house.’
‘Miss Benevent – ’
Stephen had got no further than that, when Miss Silver’s hand was laid upon his arm. It was to him that she spoke.
‘I do not believe that any useful purpose will be served by continuing this conversation.’ She addressed herself again to Miss Olivia. ‘I think the police will wish to see those of us who spent the night here. Neither I nor Mr. Eversley accept what you suggest with regard to Miss Sayle.’
Derek Burdon had effaced himself. With Miss Olivia’s advance into the room, he had edged his way towards the door. When Miss Silver and Stephen emerged he was waiting for them.
Three miles away in Retley Inspector Rock was called to the telephone.
Chapter Thirty-three
Candida opened her eyes upon an even darkness. A momentary consciousness of this darkness just touched her and was gone again. But next time it came it reached the point at which it became thought.
Darkness -
Then, after an undefined interval, the thought again, and with it a question.
It was quite, quite dark – why?
Time passed before she got any farther than that. Gradually the question began to impress itself, to demand an answer. There wasn’t any light at all – the darkness was absolute. Even in the deepest middle of the night there is some shading, some thinning of the blackness, where a window cuts the wall. Unless there are thick curtains tightly drawn. But she never drew her curtains or shut the windows at night. She should have been able to see two narrow oblongs hanging like pictures on the wall to her left.
She became aware that she was lying on her back. If she wanted to see the windows she must turn on to her left side. It wasn’t easy. Her body didn’t feel as if it belonged to her. She made it obey, but looking as far to the left as she could, there was still no break in the darkness, no window in that impenetrable wall. The question in her mind had become insistent. Feeling, sensation, consciousness flowed back, evenly now and without those dizzy intervals when they had seemed to ebb.
The bed was very hard. She had lost her pillow. She put out her hand and groped. It touched a cold, unyielding substance that was certainly not a bed. It was cold – it was hard – it was damp.
It was stone.
She tried to sit up, but her head swam. At the third attempt she was on her hands and knees. Her head ached, but it was steadier. Her hands pressed down upon a stone floor. She pushed herself into a half-sitting position, one hand still on the stone.