“You did all this because you wanted Thomas Robinson out of the house on the Monday evening so that Lady Anne would be alone and defenseless when the killers came.”
“So I basically wanted to kill the mother but save the son. Is that what you’re saying, Mr. Sparling?” asked Greta with a look of bafflement on her face.
“That’s right, Lady Robinson,” said Sparling. “You had no reason to suspect that Thomas had seen you with your accomplice in London.”
Greta was about to respond, but Sparling pressed straight on to his next question before she could do so.
“You left the study window open for them, didn’t you?”
“No, I just forgot about it.”
“Thomas found it wide open when he got back to the house from the Balls.”
“Yes, I opened it wide because it was stuffy in the study when I was working in there. I’m not the only one who says it was a warm evening. Besides, Anne hadn’t gone to bed when we left.”
“Are you saying you expected her to close it?”
“No, I’m saying I forgot about it. It wasn’t dark and I didn’t think.”
“The men who came expected to find it open though, didn’t they, Lady Robinson? That’s why one of them said that they’re all fucking closed.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“And that’s why they smashed the glass in the window that you left open. Not the other study window; not the windows in the dining room. They smashed that window because that’s the one they expected to get in by if Thomas hadn’t closed it.” Sparling’s voice became more insistent as he pressed his point home.
“I told you already. I had nothing to do with these men. I left the window open by mistake. I admitted it to Sergeant Hearns the same night. I didn’t try to make a secret of it.”
“You don’t admit leaving the door in the north wall open though, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“But the killers came through there even though Jane Martin locked the door at five o’clock. How do you explain that?”
“It must have been Anne who opened it when she went for a walk after we left.”
“If she went for a walk! I suggest she did no such thing. You got Thomas out of the house, you opened the door in the north wall, and you opened the window in the study. Then you left with Lady Anne’s husband, knowing that she would be dead before you got back to London. What do you say about that, Lady Robinson?”
“I say it’s a lie. A wicked lie. I’m not guilty of this charge,” Greta’s voice rang with conviction. Miles Lambert thought she looked quite stunning with her flashing green eyes and two spots of color in the center of her wide cheeks.
“Not guilty, eh? Well, we’ll leave that to the jury to decide, shall we? I want to ask you about Lady Anne’s locket now. Why did you say to Thomas, ‘Give that to me, it’s mine’ when he first showed you the locket?”
“I didn’t. I said no such thing.”
“So both Thomas and Matthew Barne lied to this court about that, did they?”
“Of course they did. They’d gotten their story worked out together by then. It was different on the day. That boy Matthew ran out of the house when Peter asked him if it was true that I’d said that.”
“And Thomas and Jane Martin are lying about Lady Anne wearing the locket after she came back from London, are they?”
“Yes. Well, Thomas is anyway. I don’t think Jane said she did see the locket; just something gold, which she thought was the locket. That’s how I remember what she said.”
“Thomas saw something gold too though, didn’t he, when Rosie straightened up after bending down over Lady Anne’s body? That was when Rosie took the locket, wasn’t it, Lady Robinson, leaving that scratch mark on Lady Anne’s neck, which Detective Constable Butler told us about last week?”
“No. She left it in the bathroom in Chelsea when she was up for the flower show. Then we all went down to the coast together on the Saturday, and so no one was in the bathroom again until I used it in the middle of the following week. Peter stayed down in Flyte after the murder.”
“But why did you use that bathroom? It’s at the top of the house, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s on the third floor, not the fourth, and the cleaner was in the downstairs lavatory when I used it.”
“Yes, I understand that, but why not use your own bathroom in the basement? That would be nearer, wouldn’t it, if you were working on the ground floor?”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain that. Maybe because the bathroom upstairs is nicer than the one in the basement. Maybe I just felt like a change of bathroom.”
“And that made it worth climbing three flights of stairs instead of going down one, did it?”
“I guess so.” Greta shrugged.
“You never found that locket in any bathroom, did you, Lady Robinson? You got it from Lady Anne’s killer.”
“Why would I want it? It’s not exactly the most valuable of the Sackville jewels, is it, Mr. Sparling?”
“Because you wanted it as a trophy. The locket and the photograph inside it were a symbol of your employer’s marriage, and now Lady Anne was dead and you could marry Sir Peter.”
“So I put it in the desk and waited for someone to find it,” said Greta mockingly. “That makes a lot of sense.”
“No, you hid it in the desk in a secret recess. Lady Robinson, I must remind you that I’m not here to answer your questions. It’s the other way round. You’re here to answer mine.” Greta looked away from Sparling toward the jury and smiled. The barrister turned a page of his notes and asked her his next question.
“Why didn’t you tell Sir Peter about the locket?”
“Because I didn’t want to upset him.”
“But it was already a week after the murder when he got back to London. Surely it would have been a comfort to him to have the locket. It showed how much Lady Anne cared about him, didn’t it? That she should have been wearing a locket containing a picture of him only a couple of days before her death; that she took it to London with her.”
“I didn’t see it that way.”
“But you thought it was important, didn’t you? That’s why you put it in the secret recess.”
“I thought it would be safe there.”
“So why didn’t you give the locket back to Sir Peter after he had calmed down?”
“Because I forgot about it. I had a lot on my mind. You seem to forget that I was arrested on the day of Lady Anne’s funeral, Mr. Sparling.”
“You forgot about it even though you had taken the trouble to put it in such a safe place and had decided not to speak to Sir Peter about it because you thought it would upset him. That doesn’t make much sense, does it, Lady Robinson?”
“I don’t know whether it makes sense or not, Mr. Sparling. All I can tell you is that last summer was one of the most stressful periods of my life. I got arrested for murder. My employer had lost his wife. And his son was conducting a witch-hunt against both of us, aided and abetted by the Suffolk police. Personally I’m not that surprised that I forgot about the locket.”
“But I suggest that you did not forget about it, Lady Robinson. You knew it was there. You just didn’t expect anyone to find it.”
“I forgot about it.”
“Mr. Sparling,” said the judge. “I notice that we are fast approaching one o’clock. Do you have much more, or would this be a convenient time to stop for lunch?”
“I have only one more question, my Lord. Perhaps it would be better if I asked it now rather than waiting.”
“Certainly, Mr. Sparling. Carry on.”
“Lady Robinson, I put it to you that you received this locket from the man called Rosie, who visited you in your flat in April of last year and killed Lady Anne at the end of May. The same Rosie who returned to the House of the Four Winds two weeks ago, when he referred to you by name. You conspired with him to commit murder and to divide the spoils between you.”
“I conspired with no one,” said Greta. “And what’s more, I don’t know anyone called Rosie or anyone with a name remotely like that. I’ve already told you that, Mr. Sparling.”