“Was there anything special about the wine?”
“Special? I … er … don’t understand. Oh … it was near the end of that in the decanter. I remember Mr. Kirkwell, the butler, came in with another … freshly decanted.”
Kirkwell was called. He told how he had found there was very little in the decanter and had gone down to get another. When he came back I had poured out the wine and given it to my father.
“What about the rest of the wine in the decanter?”
“I threw it away. There was a little sediment and I thought they wouldn’t want that.”
“Where is the decanter?”
“In the cupboard. They are always washed and put away when they are empty … till we want them again next time.”
The coroner’s jury agreed unanimously that my father had died from the administration of arsenic and gave a verdict of murder against some person or persons unknown.
As WE DROVE BACK to the house in the carriage, sitting well back lest we should be seen and recognised, both Zillah and I were limp with shock. We did not speak. Our thoughts were too horrifying to be put into words.
A small knot of people were gathered on the other side of the road. When the carriage stopped and we alighted they moved a little closer.
As we went to the door I heard a voice say: “Murderess.” It was terrible.
We went to our separate rooms. I lay on my bed and tried to recall all that had happened, all that had been said in that dreadful courtroom.
How had this happened? Just a sequence of events … which … when fitted together, created a suspicion of guilt. My relationship with Jamie. What was Jamie thinking now? He would not doubt me, I was sure. My quarrel with my father … that outburst which had been heard by the servants. The simple act of pouring out a glass of port wine. And then, of course, the most damning of all—buying the arsenic. It seemed as if some evil spirit were at work, determined to destroy me, turning what had seemed the most insignificant acts into those of vital importance. And where was Ellen Farley, who could have told them that she had asked me to buy the arsenic? Indeed, I could believe some malevolent fate had made her mother ill so that she was spirited away when it was so necessary that she corroborate my story.
What had they implied? That I had bought arsenic that I might kill my father? And all because he had threatened to disinherit me if I married Jamie?
I felt sick and very frightened.
That night I wrote to Lilias. I had always found comfort in writing to her and receiving her letters. She was becoming reconciled to her fate now; she had settled down to village life; one of her sisters had become a governess and Lilias had stepped into her shoes.
Now there seemed a special bond between us. We were both wrongly accused, for there was no doubt in my mind that all in the courtroom had made up their minds that I had murdered my father.
And murder was a far more serious matter than theft.
I was exaggerating, I told myself. They could not believe that of me.
I told Lilias the details, how I had quarrelled with my father, how he had threatened to cut me out of his will.
“I don’t care about the money, Lilias. I really don’t. Nor does Jamie. We just want to be together and we shall be when he is a fully fledged lawyer. We’ll set up in Edinburgh and have lots of children. That’s what I want. But in the meantime there is this thing. People were waiting for us when we came home from the court. I can’t tell you how upsetting it was. The worst thing is the matter of the arsenic. I did go to Henniker’s. I did sign my name. They’ve got it all, Lilias. And Ellen isn’t here to confirm what I tell them. If only she would come back. Perhaps she will …”
Yes, it was comforting to write to Lilias. It was like talking to her.
I sealed the letter and left it to be posted next day.
I went to bed, but sleep was impossible. Scenes from the courtroom kept flashing before my eyes. I could hear the voices droning on, the questions … the answers that seemed like betrayal.
Two days later, on the orders of the Procurator Fiscal, I was arrested on suspicion of having murdered my father.
OFTEN DURING THOSE DARK DAYS which followed, I told myself, if this had not happened I should never have met Ninian Grainger.
I was taken away by two men in a closed carriage. Several spectators saw me leave the house and I sensed the excitement among them. I wondered what the headlines in the papers would be now. I found I did not greatly care. I could not believe that I, hitherto insignificant, could be the subject of headlines in the newspapers. I could not believe that I was not only involved in a case of murder but at the heart of it. It seemed years since my mother and I had ridden out in the carriage together and taken conventional tea in the discreetly curtained rooms of neighbours as prosperous as ourselves. It even seemed a long time since Zillah had come to us. Could such things happen to ordinary people such as I was?
So many unusual events and the most unusual was that I, Davina Glentyre, daughter of a respected banker of Edinburgh, was in custody accused of his murder.
How could this have come about? It began when Zillah came to us—no, before that—when Lilias was dismissed. If Lilias had stayed, Zillah would never have come. My father would not have been married. I should have told Lilias that I had bought the arsenic. She would probably have come with me to the shop. Why hadn’t I told someone? Zillah … Jamie … ?
I was put in a little room. I was glad to be alone, and it was there that Ninian Grainger came to see me.
Ninian Grainger was a tall, rather lean man, about twenty-eight, I should say. There was about him an air of authority and what I needed most at that time—confidence.
“I’m Ninian Grainger,” he said. “Your stepmother has arranged for my firm to defend you. You are going to need someone to help you. I am that one.”
He was pleasantly friendly from the start and I was soon aware of the compassion he felt for a young girl accused of murder before she really knew a great deal about the world. He said that he had been convinced of my innocence from the moment he saw me. At that bewildering and horrifying time, this was what I needed more than anything and I shall never forget he gave it to me.
His approach was, I am sure, quite different from that of most advocates. From the beginning not only did he give me confidence but that fearful feeling of being alone in a hostile world began to disappear. I felt better even after our first encounter.
Oddly enough, he told me a little about himself so it was rather like a social meeting between two people who would become friends. His father was the senior partner in Grainger and Dudley. One day it would be Grainger, Dudley and Grainger and he would be the second Grainger.
“I have been in the business for five years … ever since I qualified. Do you remember the Orland Green case? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Things looked very black against Mrs. Orland Green, but I got her off, and that was a feather in my cap. I’m telling you all this so that you don’t think my firm is sending you an inexperienced fellow.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
“Well … let’s get down to facts. You won’t be allowed to go into the witness box. A pity. I’m sure you would have done well. No one looking at you could believe you guilty.”
“That’s because I am not guilty.”
“I know that and you know it, but we have to convince other people of it. You’ll have to make a Declaration. That’s what I want to talk to you about. It’s a pity you bought that arsenic and this Ellen Farley is not around to confirm your story. If we could find her, it would help enormously. It’s too bad she’s disappeared. Never mind. We’ll find her. How long had she been with you?”
“I’m not sure whether she came before or after Zillah. Just before, I think.”