Hilary screamed at the top of her voice and struck hard at his face with the bottle of ink.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Henry Cunningham came down the dirty tenement stair and emerged upon the street. He wore a puzzled frown, and he carried a small parcel done up in an extremely crumpled piece of brown paper. A yard from the step he walked into the last person he was expecting to meet – Miss Maud Silver, in a black coat with a shabby fur collar, and a black felt hat enlivened by a bunch of purple velvet pansies. Henry exclaimed, and Miss Silver exclaimed. What she actually said was, ‘Dear me!’ After which she put a hand on Henry’s arm and began to walk briskly up the street beside him.
‘We will not, perhaps, talk here. I was on my way to interview Francis Everton, but I see you have already done so. I have another appointment, so we must not lose time. I should prefer to hear your report before proceeding any farther myself.’
‘You can’t proceed any farther,’ said Henry, casting an odd look at her. He was thinking that she would pass very well as a district visitor, but that he himself was rather conspicuous, and that the sooner they collected Hilary and went somewhere where they could talk the better.
‘And just what do you mean by that?’ said Miss Maud Silver.
They turned into, a side street.
‘Frank Everton is dead,’ said Henry.
‘When?’
‘Buried yesterday.’
‘How?’
‘They say he was drunk and fell downstairs.’
‘I wonder if he was pushed,’ said Miss Silver in a quiet, meditative voice.
Henry jerked an impatient shoulder.
‘He’s not much loss anyhow.’
‘On the contrary.’ Miss Silver’s tone was prim. ‘An invaluable witness if he could have been induced to speak.’
‘Well, he can’t now,’ said Henry in a brutally matter-of-fact way. ‘But, look here, Miss Silver, did you know he was married?’
‘No, Captain Cunningham.’
‘Well, he was. Factory girl out of a job. Quite young. Fond of him. Not fond of his brother – that’s putting it mildly. She hates Bertie Everton like poison. Says he got Frank to do his dirty work, and didn’t ever pay him properly for it.’
‘Good,’ said Miss Silver. ‘Good work, Captain Cunningham. Go on.’
Henry was warming to his story. It sorted itself out as he proceeded. He was conscious of a very definite excitement.
The girl’s decent. She didn’t know anything – that is, she guessed there had been dirty work, but she wouldn’t have stood for it herself. She married Frank Everton about six months ago, but she seems to have been friendly with him for some time before that. When she said Bertie got Frank to do his dirty work for him, I encouraged her to talk along those lines. She was only too pleased to get it off her chest.’
‘Very good work,’ said Miss Silver.
They turned into the street where Henry had left Hilary. The houses stood in their close rows, a few people went up and down, but there was no girl in a brown tweed coat and cap.
‘I left Hilary here – ’
‘She must have gone round the next corner. She would walk to keep herself warm,’ said Miss Silver.
Henry felt an odd relief. He had expected to see Hilary. In some obscure Way he felt as if he had missed a step in the dark. He was jarred, and a little angry. Miss Silver’s reasonable explanation was reassuring.
‘If we wait here, she’ll come back,’ he said.
He went on telling her about Frank Everton’s wife – ‘She says Bertie Everton’s been promising them money. He kept putting Frank off because he said he couldn’t do anything till the will was proved. Then they found out that it had been proved, and Bertie put them off with promises. He said he wanted Frank to go abroad, and Frank wouldn’t because of her. That was before they were married, and afterwards he said Glasgow was good enough for him, and he wouldn’t budge. He said all he wanted was a nice little flat and plenty of money to pay for drinks all round, and he wasn’t going overseas to please anyone.’
‘That,’ said Miss Silver, ‘is very interesting.’
Henry nodded.
‘I thought so. Of course you can’t say he was a creditable relation to have around – I mean, nothing very compromising about Bertie feeling that a good stretch of the Atlantic or the Pacific between them would make Frank less of a handicap. But there was something about the way she said it, if you know what I mean. Bertie had been very pressing, and Frank had been cocking snooks when he’d had one over the odd, and hinting at what he could say if Bertie pushed him too far.’
Miss Silver put her head a little on one side with the air of a bird who sees a plump and juicy worm.
‘Did he say what he would do, Captain Cunningham?’
‘He hinted that he could make it hot for Bertie. He said he’d done dirty work for him once too often, and that he wouldn’t have done it if he’d known what Bertie was up to -said he’d got evidence that would hang Bertie if he took it to the police. The girl Phemie says he showed her the evidence and then made her promise she wouldn’t tell anyone, because, he said, they might hang him, too, and he never meant the old man any harm.’
Miss Silver faced him on the narrow pavement, her eyes bright and alert.
‘This evidence, Captain Cunningham -did she tell you what it was?’
‘I’ve got it here,’ said Henry. He gave his limp paper parcel a bang and produced it with the air of a conjuror bringing something out of a hat.
A curious change came over Miss Silver’s expression. She put out her hand for the parcel and she opened her mouth to speak, but she neither spoke, nor did she touch the crumpled brown paper. Her hand fell to her side, her lips stayed open, and her eyes lost their brightness whilst remaining even more alert than before. She said in a quick, restless voice,
‘Captain Cunningham, where is Miss Carew?’
At once Henry was jarred again.
‘I left her here.’
‘Then where is she?’
‘She must have gone round the corner. You said so, – you said she would walk to keep herself warm.’
‘She wouldn’t go far. She ought to be here. I don’t like it, Captain Cunningham.’
Henry was off before she had finished speaking. The street ran straight for about a quarter of a mile without a side turning. His long legs took him to the end of it in a very short time. He went out of Miss Silver’s view round the left-hand corner. After an interval he crossed the head of the street again and disappeared in the opposite direction. Then he came sprinting back.
Miss Silver turned before he reached her and hurried back along the way by which they had walked together. Henry came up with her, panting. His heart thumped, ‘Hilary – Hilary – Hilary – ’ and he was afraid with that unreasoning fear which is the hardest of all to control.
‘She isn’t anywhere – Miss Silver – ’
Miss Silver began to run in an odd hen-like manner.
‘I think I ought -to tell you that -the Mercers are – in Glasgow – Captain Cunningham. In – point of fact – I – followed them – here. A police-constable is – meeting me at – their lodging – immediately. I am very apprehensive on -Mrs. Mercer’s account. If -by any chance -Miss Carew -’ The words popped out in jerks, but she ran gamely.
They came into the street where the tenement houses were, and she caught Henry by the arm and pointed.
‘That door – where the policeman is – fifth floor – on the left – ’ This took the last of her breath, but as he broke from her she snatched the brown paper parcel and tucked it under her arm.