The two Miss Pimms stood on the doorstep without either lifting the knocker or ringing the bell. As they had walked up the flagged path there was a drawing-room window to their right and a dining-room window to their left. The drawing-room window was a square bay, and there would have been quite a good view of the interior if a completely opaque curtain had not been drawn across the side which was next the porch. The dining-room had a bay too but no curtain drawn, and the nearest window stood a handsbreadth open. Lily Pimm was looking to her right, but Mabel was more fortunate. She actually saw Miss Silver and Detective Inspector Abbott come into the room behind the open window. Most fortunately, they did not look in her direction. She touched Lily on the arm, put a finger on her lips, and rapidly gained the shelter of the porch. When Lily on a singularly foolish impulse opened her lips to speak, the touch on her arm became so painful a pinch that the water rushed into her eyes and she immediately desisted. Mabel removed her finger from her lips and pointed with it, and they both heard the Detective Inspector say, ‘I don’t think there is very much doubt about Carey’s guilt.’ After that even Lily did not need to be pinched.
They stood out of sight as if riveted to the doorstep, Mabel tall and thin, Lily round and plump. Her nickname as a child had been Podge, and it still suited her. They could hear everything that was said. But when Detective Inspector Abbott reached the point of asserting that Nicholas Carey certainly had a motive and could as certainly have made an opportunity, and went on to say, ‘As far as we’ve got there’s nothing in it either way,’ he began to walk round the dining-table in the direction of the window. They heard him say, ‘I don’t know why we shouldn’t sit down.’ And then quite suddenly he turned towards the side window of the bay and saw them standing in the porch.
Mabel Pimm behaved with the greatest presence of mind. She had hardly glimpsed the movement of a coat sleeve on the other side of the casement, when her hand was on the knocker. Her vigorous knock practically coincided with Frank Abbott’s ‘There’s someone at the door.’ As a second knock followed he stepped back and said only just above his breath,
‘Is there anyone to answer it, or shall I go?’
Althea was already in the hall. She did not show her dismay at the sight of the Miss Pimms, but it came in on her like a fog. Having known them since she was six, she was under no illusion as to the rigorous cross-examination to which Miss Mabel would subject her. It was therefore with feelings of considerable relief that she saw the dining-room door open and Miss Silver and Frank Abbott emerge. The ceremonial kiss which Mabel Pimm was about to bestow was checked, and with no more than a subdued murmur of condolence they proceeded to the drawing-room. Frank Abbott was in two minds whether to stay or go. In the end he found himself being introduced to the Miss Pimms and decided to stay.
The interrogatory note in Miss Mabel’s voice was very decided as she addressed Miss Silver.
‘I do not think I have heard your name before. You are a relative?’
They were seating themselves, Miss Silver and Mabel Pimm upon the sofa, Frank Abbott in a fireside chair a little small for his elegant length, Althea on one of those square upholstered dumps a good deal in vogue at the time of Mrs Graham’s marriage, and on the opposite side of the hearth to the sofa Lily Pimm, rather isolated in a big armchair. Her feet only just touched the floor. She wore her skirts as long as possible in order to add to her height, but the attempt was a failure. Her black kid gloves were too tight for her plump hands, and both she and Mabel had put on black coats and hats in order to visit a house of mourning. The garments were those usually reserved for funerals. They had the air of never having been in fashion, and they smelled powerfully of mothball.
Miss Silver picked up her knitting and replied to Miss Mabel’s question.
‘Oh, no, I am not a relation.’
‘A friend then?’
‘I hope so.’
Miss Pimm unfastened the top button of her coat. It was one of her characteristics that she never found any room to be at quite the right temperature. If she felt it too warm she unbuttoned her coat. If she did not feel it warm enough she buttoned it up. In either case she said just what she thought. She said it now.
‘Warm rooms are enervating. This room is a good deal too warm. Are you an old friend? It don’t remember having heard your name before.’
Miss Silver pulled on the ball of pale pink wool. She said, ‘Indeed?’ in so mild a tone that Frank Abbott cocked an eyebrow.
Mabel Pimm turned a shoulder and addressed Althea.
‘Lily and I have come here because we feel it to be our duty. We would in any case wish to express our condolences, but there was also something we felt we ought to let you know without delay. It is perhaps fortunate that the Detective Inspector is here, as he would certainly have to be informed about it.’ She sat stiffly upright, her eyes small and bright, her nose jutting, her gloved hands folded in her lap. Then, as Althea turned a pale look in her direction, she continued. ‘It is something which I feel may be of the greatest importance – something which my sister Lily happened to overhear.’
Lily Pimm nodded her head in the shapeless black hat.
‘In the fish queue,’ she said.
Frank’s lips twitched. His sense of humour was sometimes a trouble to him, but he had it under control. Miss Silver sent him a glance.
‘Perhaps if Miss Graham and I were to leave you…’ she said.
Even before his slight shake of the head Althea was speaking.
‘No, it’s very kind of you, but I’d rather stay.’ She turned away from Mabel Pimm. ‘What is it, Miss Lily?’
It really was a wonderful day for Lily. She was quite sorry for Althea Graham, quite kindly disposed towards her, but it was wonderful to have such an interesting story to tell. It wasn’t very often that anyone listened to her with attention – it wasn’t very often that anyone listened to her at all. But today everyone was listening. First Mabel and Nettie at home, and now Althea and the friend who was staying with her, and the police officer, and Mabel. They were all listening with the greatest interest and attention. Agog – that was what they were – agog. Such a curious word! She couldn’t think why it should come into her mind, but it did. There they all sat, looking at her and waiting for her to speak.
She began to tell them what Mrs Traill had said to Mrs Rigg, and what Mrs Rigg had said to Mrs Traill, going right through the conversation and not missing a word, and finishing up with,
‘And I asked Mrs Jones in the fish shop where Mrs Traill lived, and she said with her daughter-in-law at No. 4 Holbrook Cottages.’
She looked round the circle, as an actor for applause, and was disappointed to find that no one seemed to realize how clever she had been.
Miss Silver had laid her knitting down upon her knee. Mabel of course, had heard the story before. The Scotland Yard Inspector was looking her way, but there was something about his expression which she didn’t care about at all, something that reminded her of a cold draught and getting her feet wet. And Althea Graham looked dreadful. Of course she had been engaged to Nicholas Carey, and people were saying perhaps they would make it up again now he had come home, only they couldn’t possibly get married if he had murdered her mother. No, no – of course they couldn’t! It shocked her very much to think of it.
The Inspector’s voice broke in upon these thoughts. It surprised her a good deal, because it wasn’t at all the sort of voice you would expect a policeman to have. It reminded her of a B.B.C. announcer, only not so friendly. He said,