“Fielding's a fool. He doesn't know what caused my aunt's death, but we are quite sure it must have been a stroke.”
Rumbold released Mrs Matthews' hand, glancing down at her with an expression of foreboding in his face. “What did Fielding say?” he asked. “Tell me, Mrs Matthews!”
They had none of them heard him speak so sternly before. Mrs Matthews answered: “It is all too dreadful, Mr Rumbold! Dr Fielding thinks that Harriet was poisoned.”
“Did you ever hear of anything so far-fetched, sir?” demanded Guy.
Rumbold looked at him for a moment, but he did not speak.
“Mr Rumbold, no one could have wanted to poison her!” Stella said urgently. “You can't think that one of us—one of us —”
At that he said quickly: “No, no, my dear child, of course not! Good God, no! But if Fielding suspects poison—It is too appalling!”
Guy, still standing by the window, said suddenly: “Superintendent Hannasyde and that Sergeant-fellow are coming up the drive now.”
Mrs Matthews gave a start. “Oh, Guy, no! Not yet!”
He moved across the room to her side. “It's all right, Mummy,” he said. “I expect it's only to make inquiries. They can't do anything—I mean, they don't know yet that Aunt Harriet was poisoned.”
“Don't keep on saying that she was poisoned!” Mrs Matthews cried, as though her nerves were snapping. “She wasn't! She couldn't have been!” She turned with an effort to Edward Rumbold. “Please don't go!” she said faintly. “I have no one to advise me—I feel quite shattered!”
“I'll do anything I can to help you,” he answered. “You must be perfectly open with the Superintendent—I'm sure you will be. There's nothing to be afraid of.”
The door opened. “The police are here, madam,” said Beecher, in a voice of doom.
Chapter Twelve
Mrs Matthews saw that both her children were watching her. She straightened in her chair, smiled, and turned her head to speak to the butler. “Very well, Beecher,” she said, her voice once more smooth and controlled. “Show them in here, please.”
A moment later Hannasyde came into the room.
Mrs Matthews bowed slightly. “Good-afternoon, Superintendent. You wish to see me?”
“I wish to ask you some questions, Mrs Matthews, about Miss Harriet Matthews' death.”
She raised her brows. “Surely you are a little premature in assuming that my sister-in-law's death is a case for the police?”
Hannasyde looked steadily down at her, and replied: “Have you any objections to answering my questions, Mrs Matthews?”
“It is very painful to me to have to discuss it,” said Mrs Matthews with sorrowful dignity.
“I quite appreciate that it must be,” said Hannasyde. “I am sorry to intrude on you at such a moment, but I am sure you will realise that in the circumstances my department is bound to investigate the matter.”
“I suppose so,” sighed Mrs Matthews. “But one cannot help feeling that Dr Fielding's conduct has been extraordinary. We ourselves believe that my sister-in-law had a stroke.”
“That is a point which the medical authorities must determine,” said Hannasyde. “When was Miss Matthews first taken ill?”
“I am afraid you will have to ask my son or my daughter that question,” replied Mrs Matthews. “You see, I never come down to breakfast, so I don't know what happened until my poor sister-in-law came upstairs.”
Hannasyde turned towards Stella, who answered at once: “My aunt said that she didn't feel very well when she came down to breakfast. It was a little before nine o'clock, I think.”
“Did your aunt say when she first began to feel ill?”
“N-no. No, I'm nearly sure she didn't. She just said, "I don't feel very well this morning," or something like that.”
“Did she ever take anything before breakfast? Early tea, for instance?”
“Yes, she always had early tea.”
“Who took that to her?”
“Oh, the under-housemaid! Usually the upper housemaid, but we haven't got one at the moment.”
“Does she also prepare the tea?”
“I don't know. She or the cook, I suppose.”
“Did Miss Matthews take anything else? Any medicine, perhaps?”
Stella looked questioningly at her mother, but Mrs Matthews shook her head. “Really, Superintendent, I've no idea what my sister-in-law may or may not have taken.”
Hannasyde did not pursue this. Instead he asked Stella what her aunt had eaten for breakfast. When he heard that Miss Matthews had had only tea and one slice of bacon, he said: “Was it the same tea which you and your brother drank, Miss Matthews?”
“Well, I had coffee,” replied Stella. “Guy, you had the tea, didn't you?”
“Yes,” said Guy. “Same pot, too.”
“And after breakfast, what did your aunt do?”
“Ah, there I can help you,” intervened Mrs Matthews. “I was just going to have my bath when my sister-in-law came upstairs, and told me that she felt sick and rather giddy. Nothing to alarm one. Indeed, I thought it no more than a slight bilious attack, but I always feel that one can't be too careful, especially when one is getting on in years as my sister-in-law was. So I made her go to bed with a hot-water bottle.”
“Did you give her anything for this sickness, Mrs Matthews?”
“Yes, I gave her a dose of some very excellent medicine which I have made up for indigestion. My own doctor—Dr Herbert Martin of Harley Street—prescribed it for me, and I know from my own experience —”
“I should like to see both the medicine and the glass it was given in,” said Hannasyde.
“Certainly,” said Mrs Matthews, as one humouring a child's whim. “But naturally the glass has been washed, and put away.”
“Are you sure of that?” Hannasyde asked. “Was the glass removed from Miss Matthews' bedroom?”
“Oh, surely!” Mrs Matthews said, wrinkling her brow. “I should never have left it there. It was my own medicine-glass, and I'm afraid I'm very fussy about things like that. I always like to be sure that they are properly washed, and put away.”
“Did you perhaps wash the glass yourself?”
Mrs Matthews put a hand to her brow. “I don't think I remember. I may have, or it may simply have gone down to the pantry.”
“Well, I can find that out by asking the servants,” Hannasyde said cheerfully. “You did not think to ask your doctor to call and see Miss Matthews?”
“Oh no!” Mrs Matthews said. “My sister-in-law did not want a doctor to be called in, and really I could not see that it was at all necessary.”
“Did your sister-in-law say that she didn't want a doctor?”
“I don't know that she actually said those words, but she was not a person who ever consulted doctors very willingly. I am very sorry that she didn't, for if only she had been under some good man I feel that whatever it was that was wrong with her might have been treated, and she would have been with us now. Undoubtedly there must have been some trouble which we none of us knew about —”
“Then when you put your sister-in-law to bed you saw no cause for alarm?”
“Absolutely none!” replied Mrs Matthews earnestly.
“And later, when she grew worse, did you still feel no anxiety?”
“But you see I had no idea!” Mrs Matthews said. “I did not go into her room again until about twelve o'clock —”
Hannasyde interrupted: “One moment, Mrs Matthews. You say you did not go to her again until about twelve. When was it that you left Miss Matthews?”
Mrs Matthews smoothed the pleats of her frock rather nervously. “I really don't think I can tell you. I didn't look at the time. After all, why should I?”
“What time do you usually get up, Mrs Matthews?”
“Oh, when I have had my breakfast! I never take anything but tea, and a little toast, so —”
“Quite. But I want to know when you get up in the morning, please.”
“Really, Superintendent, you cannot expect me to keep a detailed timetable of my —”
Edward Rumbold spoke for the first time. “I think you always get up at about the same time, don't you, Mrs Matthews? Somewhere between half-past nine and ten, isn't it?”