‘My dear, pray calm yourself.’
Althea sank down upon the sofa.
‘How can I? You know – he didn’t do it – he didn’t! Why should he? We were going to be married next day. I wasn’t going to let anything stop me this time – he knew that. Your Emily Chapell was going to come – and it was all fixed. Besides he wouldn’t do an awful thing like that – he couldn’t! You must believe me! I don’t only love him, I know him! He couldn’t do it!’
All that quiet self-control was gone. This was a new Althea, ablaze with conviction, passionate in defence.
Miss Silver sat quietly down beside her.
‘My dear…’
Althea turned a vehement look upon her.
‘You don’t believe me, but you’ve got to! If I can’t convince you, how am I, how is Nicky, going to convince anyone – all these policemen, lawyers, a jury – people who don’t know him – people who will believe that he did it! And he won’t say the thing that would save him!’
Miss Silver raised her hand in a hortatory manner.
‘I have not said I believe that Mr Carey murdered your mother. You say there is something that would save him, but that he is reluctant to avail himself of it. Pray tell me what it is.’
In her normal frame of mind Althea would hardly have spoken. But the floodgates were open, thoughts and words rushed through them without check.
‘He could have an alibi, but he won’t let her do it. It’s because of Jack – I’m sure of it – but he won’t say so. She would say he was in by eleven, and that they were together, but he won’t let her do it.’
‘Miss Graham, to whom are you alluding?’
Althea stared, her eyes unnaturally wide and bright.
‘Ella Harrison – Mrs Harrison. He is staying with them, you know – at least he was. He has gone to the George now, but he was at the Harrisons when it happened. Jack and he are cousins, and Ella said she would say that Nicky was in by eleven, and that they were together for quite a long time after that. If she did, it would save him, wouldn’t it? That woman – that Mrs. Traill who says she heard Mother call out to Nicky between twenty and half past eleven – it’s what she says that is going to make them arrest him. But if Ella Harrison says Nicky was with her at Grove Hill House, then he couldn’t have been in the gazebo, could he – and they wouldn’t arrest him.’
‘It would rather depend upon whether they thought Mrs Harrison was telling the truth.’
Althea said in a piteous voice,
‘He couldn’t have been at Grove Hill House and in the gazebo at the same time – he couldn’t!’
Miss Silver looked at her compassionately.
‘Does Mr Carey say that he was at Grove Hill House?’
Althea had a failing look.
‘He doesn’t – know – when he got in. Ella Harrison says she knows. He could not let her say he was in.’
‘And he will not?’
‘He – he…’ Her voice failed altogether.
‘I see that he will not. Is it because he is aware that it would not be true?’
‘He doesn’t know what time he got in. He says so. And if he doesn’t know, then how can he tell whether it’s true or not?’
Miss Silver said gravely,
‘I believe Mr Carey has stated that, without being able to set any time for his return, he believes it was late before he got back to Grove Hill House.’
‘He doesn’t know. Ella Harrison says he was in by eleven. Why can’t he let her say it?’
‘Has he not told you why?’
Althea looked away.
‘He doesn’t say. I think it’s because of Jack. I think – I think if she says he was in, she will say they stayed together – a long time. Oh, don’t you see what I mean? Don’t you see what people might think – what Jack might think?
Miss Silver saw very clearly indeed. She saw a number of things. But before she could speak Althea broke in again.
‘But it wouldn’t be true, so what would it matter? Jack Harrison wouldn’t believe it. Nicky is his cousin. He didn’t stay with Ella after he came in – he went straight up to bed. They could tell him she was only saying it to help Nicky. Jack wouldn’t believe there was anything wrong.’
Miss Silver did not speak for a moment. Then she said,
‘Mr Carey would be very foolish indeed if he were to rely on perjured evidence. Perjury is both a moral and a legal crime. A person who volunteers to commit this crime must either be of an entirely unreliable character or be actuated by some extremely strong motive. In Mrs Harrison’s case, have you asked yourself whether she has such a motive, and what that motive might be?’
Althea said only just above her breath,
‘To help Nicky…’
TWENTY-EIGHT
MISS SILVER OPENED the door to Detective Inspector Frank Abbott next morning and took him into the dining-room, where she settled herself in one of the two armchairs belonging to the set round the table and took her knitting out of its flowered chintz bag. The second vest intended for little Tina was now approaching completion. Frank looked at it, raised a colourless eyebrow, and said,
‘How many million stitches do you suppose you knit in a year?’
She smiled.
‘I must confess that I have never given the matter any attention.’
‘You should do so. It may run into billions. What a lot of dressing-up the human young require!’
She allowed her eye to travel over his immaculate suit, the harmony of tie, handkerchief and socks, the elegant cut of the shoes, before replying.
‘Not, I think, only the very young, my dear Frank.’
He laughed.
‘One endeavours to keep the end up. I am rewarded by being constantly told that I don’t look like a policeman. Which is sometimes extremely useful. Well, what have you got for me?’
She was knitting busily.
‘Nicholas Carey has left Grove Hill House.’
Frank leaned back as far as it is possible to lean in a dining-room chair. He had turned it sideways so as to be able to stretch out his long legs. He had rather a languid air which might be accounted for by the fact that the attractive cousin’s party had been kept up until very late. He said in a voice that matched his attitude,
‘He notified us to that effect.’
Miss Silver continued.
‘He was here for some time after tea yesterday, which gave me an opportunity of calling upon the Miss Pimms.’
‘My dear ma’am!’
‘I found it both interesting and instructive. They were extremely pleased to see me, and they imparted a great deal of information.’
‘Which I suppose you are going to impart to me.’
Miss Silver proceeded to impart as much of the Miss Pimms’ conversation as she considered relevant. Before she had really finished she found him looking at her with a touch of malice.
‘And what am I supposed to make of the fact that Mrs Harrison is a little too highly coloured for Grove Hill society, and that the Miss Pimms accuse her of having, shall I say, a come-hither in her eye when abroad and an inflammable temper at home? Dr Hamilton and the curate at St Jude’s don’t seem to me to have very much to do with the murder of Mrs Graham.’
Her glance reproved him. He was reminded of her scholastic experience. He had spoken out of turn.
Without further comment she proceeded with her narration and repeated Lily Pimm’s artless tale about the lost stone in Mrs Harrison’s diamond ring. That it did not impress him she was instantly aware. He looked at her quizzically.
‘And what am I supposed to make of that?’
Still knitting, she said without emphasis,
‘I have found the stone.’
He sat up with a jerk.
‘You have what!’
She loosened some strands from the pink ball in her knitting-bag.
‘I have found what I believe to be the lost stone from Mrs Harrison’s ring.’