‘How much of this did he really tell Althea Graham?’
‘I do not know. I suspect very little more than the fact that she was willing to give him an alibi.’
‘You mean she is dotting the i’s and crossing the’t’s herself?’
‘I think so. She does not like Mrs Harrison, and she is in love with Nicholas Carey.’
He nodded.
‘Very sharpening to the intelligence.’
‘There is one more point, Frank, and I believe a most important one. An alibi for Mr Carey would also be an alibi for Mrs Harrison.’
TWENTY-NINE
GROVE HILL HOUSE was well staffed, though none of the staff slept in. The parlourmaid who opened the door to Detective Inspector Abbott and Detective Inspector Sharp had been in very good service before her marriage. Now that she was a widow she had gone back to the work for which she had been trained. Her two children were in their teens and her mother lived with her, so that the arrangement worked smoothly enough. She got good wages and all her meals. She could say that for Mrs Harrison, there was always plenty in the house and you could help yourself. Of course it wasn’t like working for a real lady, but the money was good, and Mr Harrison was a nice quiet gentleman if ever there was one. She showed the two policemen into the drawing-room and went to tell Mrs Harrison.
Ella Harrison took her time. When she came into the drawing-room Frank Abbott was immediately aware that there had been a fresh application of powder and lipstick. He has been credited with more cousins than anyone in England, and as the usual proportion of these were female and young, there was very little he did not know about the gentle art of making up. His standards were of necessity a good deal more indulgent than those of the Miss Pimms, but he certainly thought that Mrs Harrison should exercise greater restraint. Her hair, even if the colour were natural, would be on the noticeable side, and natural it certainly was not. Combined with mascara, eyeshadow and a particularly vivid lipstick, it was altogether too much of a good thing. She might have carried it off in black, or brown, or navy, but not, definitely not, in a plaid skirt and a twin set in a lively shade of emerald. It was his first meeting with her, Sharp having made the original inquiries to check up on Nicholas Carey’s movements. On that occasion both she and Jack Harrison had replied that they had gone to bed early, and that they had no idea of the time of Carey’s return. Since none of the staff slept in the house, that appeared to be that.
They were now here on a totally different errand. The lady was said to have an inflammable temper. Rumours as to some of its more violent manifestations had not been wanting. The story of the broken mirror had reached Detective Inspector Sharp. He hoped that there wasn’t going to be any unpleasantness.
Ella Harrison did not offer to shake hands. She did not even ask them to sit down. Frank Abbott thought they might have been travelling salesmen whom she had no wish to encourage. Yet she had taken the trouble to touch up her face. Sharp looked at him, and he took the lead.
‘Mrs Harrison, we have called in connexion with the loss of a stone from a diamond ring. You have recently lost such a stone, have you not?’
She looked from one to the other.
‘Why, yes – how did you know? I haven’t reported it.’
He said easily,
‘These things get about. The fact is a stone has been found. If it is the one you have missed from your ring you might be able to identify it.’
‘If it is mine I should be very glad to get it back.’
‘Perhaps you will let us see the ring. You are not wearing it?’
There was the ruby and diamond ring which had been mentioned on her left hand, with a less valuable pearl and diamond ring above it. On her right hand there was one ring only, sapphires and diamonds.
She said, ‘No – I thought the other stones might be loose,’ and went out of the room.
There was some strain, some tension – she wasn’t easy. She came back with the ring.
There was a small table standing in the window. It was an old piece with a walnut top and a wreath of flowers inlaid about the edge. They were very beautifully worked in different coloured woods. The centre of the table was plain. When she came back into the room with the ring in her hand the lost diamond lay on the table, right in the middle where the dark wood showed it up. Frank Abbott put out his hand for the ring, and she let him have it. He picked up the stone and fitted it back into the place from which it had come. There could be no doubt that it was the place from which it had come. The stones were very fine. They were of an equal size, an equal lustre. They could hardly have been better matched. Frank Abbott said,
‘I am afraid I shall have to ask you to let us take charge of the ring. I will give you a receipt for it.’ He was putting it away as he spoke in the cardboard box which had held the stone.
Mrs Harrison’s colour had risen. She said,
‘Here, what do you want with that ring? It’s mine, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, we’re not disputing that. The ring and the stone are both undoubtedly yours. By the way, have you any idea where you dropped that diamond?’
‘Not the slightest. Where was it found?’
Detective Inspector Sharp stood by, and was glad that he had not had to come alone. Abbott was answering her in that la-di-da way he had.
‘We were rather hoping that you might have something to tell us about that.’
‘Well, I haven’t.’
He let her have it then, short and sharp.
‘It was found in the gazebo at The Lodge.’
It was a blow – you could see that. She blinked the way a man does when he has been hit. It was a blow and it rocked her, but she got herself in hand again. She said in a sharp, steady voice,
‘In the gazebo at the Grahams’? I don’t see…’
‘No? Well, that is where it was found. Perhaps you can tell us when you were last there.’
She was recovering.
‘Oh, I don’t know… I’m often at The Lodge… I play bridge there.’
Frank’s eyebrows rose.
‘In the gazebo?’
‘Of course not! But we don’t play till after tea – I might have gone up to look at the view.’
‘Can you remember that you did so?’
‘Not specially. We were in the garden one day last week – it might have been then.’
‘Mrs Harrison, Miss Lily Pimm states that there was no stone missing from your ring on Tuesday evening when you were playing bridge at the house of some people named Reckitts.’
She gave an exasperated laugh.
‘Oh, Lily Pimm – if you’re going to take what she says!’
‘Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?’
Her foot tapped the carpet.
‘Only that she’s barmy – that’s all.’
‘She appears to be an exact and accurate observer. She told us that she admires your rings very much and always notices them. She is positive that on Tuesday all the stones were present in the five-stone diamond ring. When she met you next day on the ten o’clock bus and you took off your glove to find some change for the fare she noticed at once that one of the stones was missing. She says she pointed this out to you, and you were very much upset and said you didn’t know that the stone was gone.’
The colour which Ella Harrison had applied was reinforced by an angry flush.
‘Of course I knew it was gone! It had been missing for days!’
‘And you continued to wear the ring?’