Julia opened her lips to speak, and closed them again. What was there to say? Better say nothing at all. Better go back to bed and wait for the morning. The morning-and Jimmy’s arrest? A long, slow shudder went over her. She turned away, went up the stairs, and into the room where Ellie lay asleep.
Miss Silver followed. When she was in her own room she took off the red woollen dressing-gown and laid it neatly across the chair upon which her clothes were folded. Then she dropped her slippers side by side and got into bed, all very deliberately and rather as if her thoughts were somewhere else. Before she put out the light she took up the shabby black Bible in which it was her custom to read, and turned to the thirty-seventh psalm. She perused it with gravity, giving particular attention to the seventh and fifteenth verses:-
“Fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass.
Their sword shall enter into their own heart, and their bows shall be broken.”
CHAPTER 35
It was half-past seven next morning when Polly Pell knocked lightly and came in to draw the curtains and set down an early morning tea tray. The room had two windows, but only the nearer one had been screened. As Polly turned round from it, there was plenty of light to show how pale she was, with no colour anywhere except in the reddened lids.
Miss Silver turned her thoughts away from the consideration of early morning tea as an indulgence-but such a very pleasant one-and focussed them upon Polly Pell. She had already wished her good morning and received a shy response. She now said,
“Please come here for a minute.”
Polly wanted to run out of the room, but she had not had two years training under Mrs. Maniple for nothing. She blinked at the light, wished it a good deal less bright, and came to stand by the bed and pleat her apron.
“You’ve been crying, Polly. What is the matter?”
Polly blinked again, but a tear got past her lashes and began to trickle very slowly towards her chin.
“It’s all so dreadful, miss!”
Miss Silver looked at her kindly and searchingly.
“Yes-murder is dreadful. But it lays a duty upon us all. If everyone does his duty and tells all he knows, the truth will come to light. If anyone does not do his duty, an innocent person may suffer.”
She had spoken in general terms, but now the expression in Polly’s eyes arrested her very particular attention. She had seen fear too often to mistake it. The child was sick with terror. No girl looks like that unless she has something to hide. If there was one thing overwhelmingly obvious besides the fear, it was Polly’s anguished desire to get out of the room. She said in a small, breathless voice, “If you’ll excuse me, miss,” and then stopped short with a quiver, because Miss Silver had taken her by the hand.
“Sit down, Polly-I want to talk to you. Yes, here on the edge of the bed. I shall only keep you a very short time. And pray do not be frightened. If you have done nothing wrong you have nothing to be afraid of. You know that.”
The original tear was now quite drowned by those which followed it. In a choking whisper Polly was heard to say,
“It’s not true they’re going to arrest Mr. Latter? They couldn’t do a thing like that, could they-not to Mr. Latter?”
Miss Silver coughed.
“I cannot tell you that. Why are you so frightened, my dear? Is it because you know something and have been keeping it back? If you are doing that, it is very wrong of you, and I do not wonder that you are very unhappy. What will you feel like if Mr. Latter is arrested?”
Polly choked back her tears, sniffed desperately, and whispered,
“They’d put my picture in the papers-”
“What did you say, my dear?”
The sobs broke out again.
“Gladys-said-they would-Gladys Marsh. She wants- to have-her photo took and put in the papers. But I never. I feel as if I’d die-having everyone look at me-and having to stand up and swear. Oh, miss, I couldn’t. Oh, miss, don’t make me!”
Miss Silver patted the hand she was holding. Then she took her own away, produced a clean folded handkerchief from under her pillow, and gave it to Polly.
“Blow your nose, my child, and wipe your eyes. And stop thinking about yourself. We have to think of Mr. Latter, who is in a very dangerous position, and we have to find out whether you know anything which will make his position less dangerous.”
Polly blew, dabbed, sniffed, and dabbed again.
“Oh, miss!”
“That’s a good girl. Now listen to me. What would you feel like if Mr. Latter should be arrested?”
“Oh, miss!”
“And because you were only thinking about yourself you let him go to prison-”
Polly was past words. She could only gulp.
“Are you going to let him be hanged?”
The gulp turned to an anguished sob.
“Oh, no! Oh, miss!”
Miss Silver let her cry until she thought she had cried enough. Then she said very briskly indeed,
“Now, my dear, that is quite sufficient. Crying will not help you. If you know anything that might prevent his arrest, do you not think it would be more sensible to tell me what it is?”
Polly scrubbed at her reddened eyes and nose. The handkerchief was quite wet through.
“I dunno if it would stop them taking him to prison. Gladys, she says she wants to have her photo in the papers, but-Oh, miss!”
Miss Silver said in a kind, firm voice,
“You have not to worry about that. You have to think about Mr. Latter, and to tell me what you know, then you will have done what is right, and you will feel a great deal happier.”
Polly gave a last sob and said,
“It wasn’t none of my doing. Mrs. Maniple sent me up.”
Miss Silver’s mind worked quickly at all times. It worked very quickly indeed now. Without any appreciable pause, she had gone back to the Chief Inspector’s interview with Mrs. Maniple, detached one piece of evidence, assimilated it, and was saying,
“Mrs. Maniple sent you upstairs on Wednesday morning just before lunch to ask Mrs. Latter whether she was coming down.”
It was no bow drawn at a venture. It was the result of rapid, accurate deduction. At that moment and no other would Polly have been brought into contact with Lois Latter. At that time, and at no other time, would she have had the opportunity of seeing or hearing something which might throw a light upon the impending tragedy.
Polly stared at her and said,
“Oh, yes, she did.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“Then you had better tell me just what happened. No, you are not going to cry any more-you are going to be a sensible girl. Just tell me exactly what you did.”
Polly managed to stop everything except the sniff.
“Mrs. Maniple, she told me to go up and find out whether Mrs. Latter would be wanting a tray took up, so I come upstairs and I knocked on the door. I knocked twice and there wasn’t any answer. There was a kind of a hammering sound going on like as if it was in the bathroom. There’s a door through from Mrs. Latter’s bedroom, you know. It’s her own bathroom and nobody else doesn’t use it. Well, I thought, ‘She’s in the bathroom hammering something, and she won’t hear me knock.’ ”
“What kind of a hammering sound was it, Polly? Was it loud?”
“Oh, no, miss-only just so as I could hear it. But she would be close up to it, and I don’t knock very loud.”
Miss Silver smiled.
“No-I have noticed that.”
Polly sniffed.
“I don’t seem as if I can-it seems so kind of rude.”
Miss Silver nodded.
“Go on, my dear, you are doing very nicely. You heard the knocking, and you thought Mrs. Latter might be in the bathroom. What did you do then?”