“He was most unkind about it,” she said.
Chapter 19
Superintendent Vyner sat in a solid armchair and faced the Chief Constable across a comfortable hearth. The Chief Constable was Colonel Bostock, a wiry little man with a brown wrinkled face, bright twinkling eyes, and a cheerful expression. He was sixty years old, and had the air of having enjoyed every minute of them. Since he was a widower, it is to be supposed that this was not quite the case, but Mrs. Bostock had been dead for so many years that any sad memories must long ago have been obliterated. His three daughters, at present serving their country, were healthy and pleasant young women who had never given him a moment’s anxiety. One of them was overseas, but the other two had seven days’ leave and were spending it at home. Vyner had just used the word murder. Colonel Bostock was regarding him with the cocked head and bright attention of a terrier to whom someone has just said “Rats!”
“You don’t say so!”
“It’s not me, sir-it’s Dr. Frith. And Dr. Horton couldn’t contradict him, though he’d have been glad enough if he could. Of course if you put it to me, I’d say that Dr. Frith was in the right of it. It was murder all right. He was pushed, and I’d say he was pushed by someone who knew that he’d got the habit of standing by that parapet and having a look at the view. The butler says he did it every night as regular as clockwork before he went to bed.”
“That’s all very well, but who was to know what time he’d go to bed? Or did that go by clockwork too?”
“Oh, no, sir. But last night, you see, all those ten people who had dinner with him, well they’d heard him say he’d be sitting up in his study till twelve o’clock. He’d brought a serious accusation against one of them and he was going to wait in the study for that one to come and confess. Well, there’s the motive. We don’t know just how serious it all was. The offence may have been a criminal one for all we know. There’s no doubt the family were pretty hard hit, and there’s no doubt they meant to keep their mouths shut. You’ve got Miss Paradine’s statement there- well, she denies the whole thing. She wouldn’t have done that if she hadn’t thought the others would back her up. What they hadn’t reckoned with was my getting hold of Mrs. Ambrose before they’d the chance of telling her what to say.”
Colonel Bostock gave a short, dry sniff.
“Mrs. Ambrose? Let’s see-she’s Irene. Lydia ’s the red-haired one. Old Pennington’s daughters. The mother’s dead too. Very pretty woman Mrs. Pennington. Danced like an angel. Neither of the girls a patch on her for looks. The red hair comes from the Pennington side. Nice chap old Pennington, and a damned good shot. Red as a scraped carrot. The girls went to school with mine. Wait a minute-there was something about one of them… Not Lydia -no. Shouldn’t have been so surprised if it had been the red-headed one. Never trust a red-headed woman. No, it was the other one, Irene-girl who looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.”
Vyner considered it time to recall his Chief Constable from these reminiscences. He did so with respect, but firmly.
“Well, sir, you see, once I had got that statement from Mrs. Ambrose it wasn’t any good the others holding out. I had the sister in next, Miss Lydia Pennington-a very intelligent young lady, if I may say so-and she saw at once that the game was up. I read her what Mrs. Ambrose had said, and she agreed that it was correct so far as it went. Only she tried very hard to get it across that Mr. Paradine mightn’t have meant very much after all-said she was very fond of him and all that, but there was no denying he was very strict and old-fashioned, and that he expected everyone in the family to do just what they were told.”
“Well, that’s true enough. Everyone knows that. Very able man-very able indeed. Bit of an autocrat. Bit of a tyrant, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“Yes, sir-that’s the impression Miss Pennington wanted to give. She did it very well. There’s her statement.”
Colonel Bostock ran his eye over it.
“Yes-yes. Well, it’s all quite true. Who did you have next?”
“Mr. Ambrose. You’ve got his statement there. Very short and to the point. But he didn’t like making it. Looked like fury when I read him what his wife had said. She’ll be hearing about it, I expect. But he didn’t deny it-said he had no idea what his stepfather meant, but thought there wasn’t much in it- said Mr. Paradine had been overworking, and considered he’d gone off the deep end about something that was probably not very important. When I asked him whether he was out again after he got home, he said yes, he went out to look for his wife. When I asked him how he knew where to look for her he said he didn’t, but she might have gone round to the doctor’s because she was always getting into a state about the children and the telephone was out of order. It sounds a bit thin, you know, sir.”
Colonel Bostock said, “Oh, I don’t know.” And then, “Good lord, man, what are you suggesting- that Ambrose trekked all the way back to the River House to push old Paradine off?”
Vyner looked up quickly.
“Well, sir, when you say all the way back-it’s not that far.”
“Took them a quarter of an hour to drive it.”
“Yes, sir-to drive it. But it wouldn’t be more than six or seven minutes by the foot-bridge and along the river path.”
Colonel Bostock gave a long whistle.
“The foot-bridge! No more it would! Of course the Ambroses are in Meadowcroft. It’s no distance at all by the foot-bridge. Did he say how long he was out, or when he came in?”
“He said he couldn’t say-said he didn’t look at his watch. And that doesn’t sound natural to me, sir, because when a man’s waiting for a woman, and especially if he’s a bit worked up, why, he’d keep looking at his watch all the time-I’ve done it myself.”
“Mightn’t have a luminous dial,” said Colonel Bostock reasonably. “You’re forgetting the blackout.”
“Very bright moon, sir, till a quarter before midnight.”
“H’m! Let’s have a look at what the fellow says. Short and sharp. Well, thank the Lord for that.” He scanned the statement and put it down again. “Well, you know, Vyner, it might have happened just as he says. That girl Irene-Mrs. Ambrose-how did she strike you? Is she the sort to go rushing off for old Horton in the middle of the night like she says? A lot depends on that, you know.”
Vyner had allowed himself to smile.
“Well, yes, sir-she struck me that way.”
“Not much of a head on her shoulders? She used to come about the house when my girls were at home, but I don’t know that I’ve said three words to her since she married. Nice people the Penningtons. But there was something about this girl Irene-I must ask my daughters when they come in. So you think she’s a bit of a fool?”
The smile lingered for a moment in the Superintendent’s eyes.
“Well, yes, sir.”
“All right-there you are. If a woman’s a fool she’s a fool. Might do anything.”
The Superintendent abandoned Mrs. Ambrose.
“Yes, sir. I saw the other four men after Mr. Ambrose-Mr. Mark Paradine, Mr. Richard Paradine, Mr. Pearson, and Mr. Wray. I didn’t get anything that you could add to the Ambrose statements. You’ll see if you look at them, the wording varies a little, that’s all. There isn’t any doubt that Mrs. Ambrose gave a pretty fair account of what took place. I didn’t read them her statement, and they’d had no opportunity of seeing either her or her husband again before I had them in-one at a time of course. So they’d no means of knowing what she had said. I just told each of them that both she and Mr. Ambrose had described a painful incident which took place at the dinner table last night. I indicated the nature of the incident, and I invited each of them to give his own version of what had occurred. Well, none of them wanted to do it, but none of them wanted to be the one to refuse. They cut it down as much as they could, and they didn’t say more than they could help, but there isn’t much in it between what they say, as you’ll see. I think they’re all telling the truth as far as they go, but of course they’re not saying anything they don’t have to.”