“No.”
“But you were in this flat yesterday morning.”
A very faint tinge of colour stained the pale cheeks. She said,
“Yes, I had come up to the opposite flat to get something for Mrs. Spooner, and Miss Roland asked me in.”
“It was the first time you had been here?”
“Yes.”
“You had some conversation with Miss Roland?”
“Yes.”
“Was the conversation a friendly one?”
That faint flush had gone again. She was dreadfully pale as she said,
“I hardly knew her. We were not friends.”
Lamb’s small, shrewd eyes looked straight into hers.
“Miss Underwood, I must tell you that your conversation with Miss Roland was overheard. It was not a friendly one-was it?”
“No-” The word was barely audible.
Lamb sat back in his chair and said in a kind, easy voice,
“Well now, I want you to look round the room and tell me whether there’s anything here that you recognise. That photograph on the mantelpiece for instance-do you recognise that?”
“Yes.”
“Did you recognise it when you came into the flat yesterday morning?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me who it is?”
“It’s Giles Armitage-Major Armitage.”
“And you are engaged to him?”
“Yes.”
Every single one of those monosyllables was like a drop of blood dripping from her heart, draining her strength and her courage away. The voice that sounded kind but was quite unrelenting went on.
“It must have been a shock to you to see your fiancé’s photograph on Miss Roland’s mantelpiece.”
Meade sat up straight. If she couldn’t fight for herself she could fight for Giles. She said in a much stronger voice,
“Oh, no, it wasn’t a shock at all. You see, I hadn’t known Major Armitage very long. We met in America. Of course he must have had heaps of friends before he met me.”
Was that the right thing to say? She didn’t know. Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn’t.
Lamb said gravely, “Is it true that Miss Roland claimed to be Mrs. Armitage?”
Meade sat silent. It was so dreadful to hear it like that. She heard Lamb repeat his question, “Is it true?” and in a faltering, stumbling way she forced herself to words.
“She said-her name-was Armitage-”
“And did you believe her?”
“I didn’t know-what to believe-”
“Did you say, ‘But he doesn’t love you’?”
Meade couldn’t answer that. She fixed piteous eyes on the Inspector’s face and very slightly moved her head in assent. When she saw him frown she looked away. She wasn’t to know that old Lamb had a soft spot in his heart for a girl in trouble. He had three girls of his own, one in the A.T.S., one in the W.A.A.F.S., and one in the W.R.N.S., and they did what they liked with him. He said rather gruffly,
“Well now, Miss Underwood, did you see Major Armitage after all this took place?”
Meade nodded again.
“Can you tell me what time that was?”
“A little after six o’clock. He had been at the War Office all day.”
“And you told him about your interview with Miss Roland?”
It was quite dreadful. He meant to go on asking question after question until he knew just what she had said to Giles and Giles had said to her. If she said “Yes”, she might be harming Giles, and if she said “No”, he wouldn’t believe her-nobody would.
“What did he say when you told him, Miss Underwood?”
That was easier. She relaxed a little.
“He said it was a plant.”
“He was angry?”
“Anyone would be.”
“Just so. Did he suggest going up to see Miss Roland? Did he in fact go and see her?”
Meade’s gaze widened. What could she say? She said nothing.
Lamb went on speaking.
“He went up to see her, didn’t he? What time was that?”
Meade said, “Half past six.”
“And he came down again?”
“It was ten minutes to seven.”
“You were watching the clock for him?… Well, I expect you were. What did he say when he came back?”
Meade roused herself.
“He said he must get into touch with his solicitor at once. He had lost his memory-did they tell you that? He can’t remember things that have happened in the last eighteen months-it’s all a kind of fog. Carola Roland knew that, and we were both quite sure that she was trying it on.”
“She didn’t produce any documentary evidence? Come, Miss Underwood, I think she did. I think she showed you this letter. I am quite sure that she must have shown it to Major Armitage.”
He lifted a paper on his right and took from under it the sheet which Carola Roland’s hand had held up for Meade to read- long white fingers, scarlet nails, and a diamond ring with one clear shining stone-Giles’ writing in a furious slope across the page: “My dear Carola… four hundred a year… a perfect legal right to the name of Armitage…” She looked at it until it seemed to float away from her and disappear into a mist.
Behind her the door was opened with energy and Giles walked into the room.
CHAPTER 24
Sergeant Abbott came in behind him. There was a slip of paper in his hand. He came over to the Inspector, laid it down in front of him, and stood away again. Lamb, whose frowning gaze had been fixed upon the abrupt and unauthorized intruder, was saying in the measured voice of the man who knows that his authority is not his own but is very sure that it will back him up,
“Major Armitage?”
Giles, with a hand on Meade’s shoulder, finished what he was saying to her-something like “It’s all right, darling”-but the voice had been pitched for her ear and no one could have sworn to the words. He straightened himself now and came up to the table, his face set and rather pale under the tan.
“I beg your pardon, Inspector. I have only just heard. It’s a horrid business.”
Lamb said, “Yes”-a single ponderous word. And then, “Will you sit down. I should very much like to talk to you, Major Armitage.”
Giles sat down.
Frank Abbott found a chair and his notebook. Lamb dropped his eyes to the sheet which had been laid before him. The ball had been set rolling now. Where was it going to stop?
When the pause had lasted long enough to be left, Lamb looked up and spoke.
“I must begin by telling you, Major Armitage, that a conversation which took place yesterday morning in this room between Miss Underwood and Miss Roland was overheard. I suppose Miss Underwood told you about that conversation. She has in fact admitted that she did so, and that you then came up here to see Miss Roland. You confirm this?”
“Certainly.”
He looked at Meade when he spoke, and looked away again. She was quite dreadfully pale. Her eyes were fixed. Her whole face was fixed.
“That was at half past six yesterday evening. Mrs. Underwood’s maid agrees with Miss Underwood about this.” He glanced fleetingly at the paper before him. “She was watching the clock because she wanted to go out and meet her young man, which she did as soon as you were gone. Is that right, Miss Underwood?”
Meade said, “Yes.”
The word barely carried. What were they doing to Giles? What had she done to him? What had he done to himself? What was happening to them all? It wasn’t true-it couldn’t possibly be true. She held on to that.
Lamb was speaking again.
“Now, Major Armitage-would you care to tell us about this conversation you had with Miss Roland? Was it a friendly one?”
He got a faint grim smile.
“What do you expect me to say to that? We were not on friendly terms.”
“Did you quarrel?”
The smile went. The grimness was intensified.
“I don’t think you could call it a quarrel.”
The Inspector held out the letter which he had already shown to Meade.
“You are wondering how much I know-aren’t you? Well, I don’t mind telling you. This letter was found on Miss Roland’s body. She had already shown it to Miss Underwood. I imagine that she showed it to you.”