Miss Bingham enjoyed herself a little too obviously, and deprived her evidence of its full effect. Juries do not care for a biassed witness.
If Mavis Grey had been in court, she would have profited to a considerable extent from the malice of Miss Bingham’s attack. A pretty girl and a spiteful old maid-the picture could hardly have failed of its effect. But Mavis Grey was not in court. Mavis Grey, a most material witness, was not in court. Mavis Grey was absent, and so was Bobby Foster. Mavis Grey and Robert Foster. Robert Foster and Mavis Grey. A verdict of wilful murder against Robert Foster. Warrants out against Robert Foster and Mavis Grey.
Peter and Lee took Lucy Craddock back to her own flat.
“Dear Phoebe is very kind, but I told her I must come home.”
She cried all the way back in the taxi, but her chief concern seemed to be for the presumably unchaperoned flight of Mavis and Bobby.
“And I suppose it will be quite impossible for them to arrange to get married if the police are looking for them. Oh, my dear, it is really all quite dreadful, and I can only feel thankful that poor Mary was spared.”
She continued to weep whilst Peter paid off the taxi, whilst Lee gently encouraged her into the lift and out of it again, and during all the preparations for tea. She took two lumps of sugar, and sipped and sobbed, and sobbed and sipped again.
“I can’t think why Mavis should have run away,” she said between the sips and the sobs-“I really can’t. You see, she came to see me yesterday, and we had such a nice talk-at least you know what I mean, Peter dear. The subject couldn’t very well be nice, because of course we had to discuss poor Ross being shot-very distressing indeed, even if one wasn’t as fond of him as one would like to have been, but you can’t be fond of people just because they are going to be murdered-can you-even if you know beforehand, which of course you don’t.”
Peter patted her on the shoulder.
“Full stop and close the inverted commas. Now take a good long, deep breath and begin again. You had a nice conversation with Mavis, and it wasn’t the subject that was nice. What was it, then?”
“Dear Mavis quite opened her heart to me-A little more tea, Lee dear, and not quite so much milk-no, dear, not three lumps of sugar-two will do very nicely. How refreshing tea is. You see, Lee dear, she thought that you had shot poor Ross.”
Lee set down the teapot and gazed at her.
“Mavis thought that? Why?”
“Well, she saw you there, my dear. She sat down and burst into tears and told me everything. I am afraid she has been very foolish indeed, only-only-nothing really wrong, thank God. I don’t wish to speak evil of the dead, but poor Ross ought to have known better-his own cousin, and he couldn’t marry her because of Aggie Crouch all those years ago, and there wasn’t even a divorce.”
“Be calm, Lucinda-you’re getting tied up again.”
Lucy Craddock blew her nose on a handkerchief with a narrow black border.
“It wasn’t as if Mavis didn’t know he was married either, for I felt it a duty to let her know.”
Peter looked at Lee and saw how pale she was.
“Tell us what happened on Tuesday night,” he said firmly-“what Mavis told you. We know she threw over Bobby and went to the Ducks and Drakes with Ross, and then came back here with him, after which she biffed him with a decanter and swooned all over me.”
“Oh, my dear boy, she thought I was here-she did indeed.”
“I can’t think why she should. We all knew you were pushing off on Tuesday, but I suppose Mavis is mutt enough for anything. Now, Lucinda, the biffing and the swooning took place soon after one a.m. At three o’clock both Miss Bingham hanging over banisters and myself in hall of flat saw Mavis come in off the landing. She said she’d been picking up a bag. Police, self, and Miss Bingham all quite sure she had been back to Ross’s flat. Suspicion a good deal concentrated on Mavis until you made statement to the effect that you found Ross dead at a quarter past two. I suppose that’s why you made it.”
Lucy Craddock looked shocked.
“Oh, my dear boy, it was perfectly true.”
“Yes, but you made it to clear Mavis all the same. Now what did she tell you? I pushed her off into Mary’s bedroom at about twenty minutes past one. What happened between that and three o’clock?”
Lucy Craddock dabbed her eyes.
“Poor dear Mavis-she was very unhappy and very frightened, because, you know, Ernest and Gladys Grey are so very strict, and they thought she was with Isabel Young. She threw herself down on the bed just as she was and cried her eyes out. And she must have fallen asleep. She said she woke up very stiff and uncomfortable. She still had her dress on, but she thought she would take it off and go to bed properly. So she put on the light, and when she wanted the face-cream out of her bag the bag wasn’t there, and it came over her that she had left it in Ross’s flat. At least, what she hoped was that she had dropped it on the landing, but when she went out and looked it wasn’t there.”
“Was the landing light on?” said Peter quickly.
“No, it was all dark, just like it was when I was there at a quarter past two. The switch is by Ross’s door, and she went over to put it on, and then she saw that Ross’s door was open, and the light on in the sitting-room.”
“Both doors open? Did you leave them like that, Lucinda?”
“Yes, I did. But I didn’t leave the light on. I couldn’t leave it shining down on him like that.”
“But Mavis found it on?” Lee said the words almost in a whisper.
“Yes, my dear, she found it on. And she came into the room, and there was Ross lying dead on the floor just as I had seen him-and oh, my dear, you were standing over him in your night-dress with that dreadful pistol in your hand.”
“She walks in her sleep,” said Peter quickly. “She didn’t remember anything about it afterwards, but her foot was stained, and her nightgown, and she’s been going through tortures ever since because she didn’t know what to think.” He took Lee’s hand and held it hard. “Darling, do stop looking like that! Lucinda found Ross dead a good half hour before you walked in on him, and old Lamb proved to you that you couldn’t have fired that revolver if you’d tried.”
Lucy Craddock nodded.
“But of course it was quite natural for poor dear Mavis to think what she did. You see, she saw you with the pistol in your hand, and she was too frightened to scream. She wanted to run away, but she simply couldn’t, and then she saw that you weren’t seeing her at all, and she realized that you were walking in your sleep. She said she didn’t know what to do, because she really did think you had killed Ross. And all at once you turned away and let the pistol fall out of your hand, and then you came walking past her and out of the flat. She heard you cross the landing and shut my door. Well, then she went over to Ross, and knelt down by him, and took his hand to see if he was really dead. And he was. Oh, my dear boy, she was braver than I was, for I couldn’t have brought myself to touch him. And when she was sure about that she said to herself, ‘Oh, I must find my bag, or they’ll think I did it.’ And it had slipped down between the cushion and the side of the chair. That is why I didn’t find it when I was there-only the powder compact, which had fallen off her lap and rolled. And when she got back to Mary’s flat-oh, my dear boy-there you were!”