“Quite-quite. Painful predicament for a family.”
Vyner said drily,
“Yes, sir-especially if one of them pushed him over that parapet.”
Colonel Bostock appeared to be shocked.
“Bless my soul, Vyner-that’s a dreadful thing to say!”
“Yes, sir, but that’s what it looks like. To get back to those statements-if you’ll just run your eye over them you’ll see Mr. Mark Paradine and Mr. Elliot Wray have got the least to say about it-cut it down all they could. Mr. Richard, he talked quite a lot- rather fell over himself trying to explain it away. And Mr. Pearson-well, very discreet.”
“Hold on, let’s get these people straight. Mark and Richard are the nephews. Which is the tall, dark one?”
“Mark, sir.”
“That’s it. Someone was telling me about him. Wanted to go into the Air Force, but they wouldn’t let him. In the Research Department-can’t be spared. The other one-my girls know him. Lively- bit of a ladies’ man. By way of making up to Lydia Pennington.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Elliot Wray-he’s the fellow who married the adopted daughter-what’s her name-Phyllida. Marriage broke up before the honeymoon was over. Extraordinary thing. Nice young fellow-pretty girl. Can’t think what young people are coming to. Shouldn’t be surprised if somebody had meddled. Grace Paradine for choice. Old maid’s daughters- something unnatural about it to my mind. Pity she didn’t marry Bob Moffat and have half a dozen. Never could make out why she didn’t. All over him one minute, and a flourish about the engagement- everyone as pleased as Punch. And then the whole thing broken off and the families dead cuts. Damned awkward thing to happen with your business partner.”
Vyner said, “Yes, sir.”
Colonel Bostock picked up Albert Pearson’s statement, glanced it through, and said,
“Who’s Pearson? How does he come into it?”
“Secretary, sir. Some kind of a cousin as well. Lives in.”
Colonel Bostock rubbed his forehead.
“Pearson-Pearson-yes, of course, he’d be Milly Paradine’s son. Big, gawky girl. Some kind of a second cousin. Used to come and stay with the Paradines. Ran away with old Pearson the jeweller’s son-made a lot of talk. Old Pearson cut ’em off, and the Paradines cut ’ em off. Obstinate girl-very. Pearson got a job-died some years later. I’ve got an idea that the boy was apprenticed to his father’s trade… Wait a bit, I’m getting there. Bless my soul, now who was it was talking about Milly Paradine not so long ago? Campion-no, it wouldn’t be Campion. Mrs. Horton-might have been Mrs. Horton. Reminds me of the elephant-she never forgets. That’s who it must have been! And she was saying what a good son that young Pearson had been-praiseworthy fellow-worked hard, ambitious-the virtuous apprentice-took night classes-languages, typing, shorthand, all that kind of thing. Mother died a year or two ago. That’s him!” He returned with satisfaction to the restrained statement of Albert Pearson.
“You see, sir,” said Vyner, “Pearson did see Mr. Paradine after he went to his study. He was in the drawing-room with the others until first the Ambrose party and then the two Mr. Paradines went away. He then went back to the drawing-room, said goodnight, and proceeded to the study to see if his services were required by Mr. Paradine. He found the butler there setting out a tray of drinks. Lane corroborates this. Pearson says he was told he wouldn’t be needed, but that Mr. Paradine called him back as he was following the butler out of the room and suggested a slight alteration to a letter which he had dictated earlier in the evening. He says Mr. Paradine didn’t keep him a moment, and that he was about to go up to his room, when it struck him that he was, as he puts it, in a very invidious position. He says he stood there thinking about this, and thinking that it would be a good thing if he could be in company with someone else during the time that Mr. Paradine had set for being in his study in case anyone should be wanting to confess. He says he was on the point of going back to the drawing-room, when he saw Mr. Elliot Wray come through the baize door from the hall. Mr. Paradine’s rooms are on the ground floor- bedroom, bathroom, study, and his late wife’s room which is not in use. Mr. Pearson was along the passage from these rooms on his way to a back stair which comes out near his own bedroom. He saw Mr. Wray go into the study, and made up his mind to wait. After no more than about two minutes Mr. Wray came out again. Pearson then addressed him, telling him frankly that he would like to be in his company till after midnight. After which they went up to Mr. Wray’s room, which is just across the passage from Pearson’s, and stayed there until after half past eleven, when they went down to the dining-room and had a drink. When they got back again it was eight minutes past twelve. Mr. Wray went and had a bath, and Pearson went to bed. Their statements corroborate each other, and this puts them both out of court as far as the murder is concerned, because Mr. Paradine was dead by twelve o’clock. It’s an undisputed fact and no getting away from it that a heavy shower of rain started at that time. I can vouch for that myself. We were sitting up to see the New Year in, and we’d the wireless on. With the last stroke of twelve you could hear the rain against the window, and that’s when it started, for I’d only just let the dog in, and it was dry then. The ground under Mr. Paradine’s body was dry. So there you’ve got it, sir-he was dead just after the last stroke of twelve.”
Colonel Bostock made the grimace which accounted for his network of wrinkles.
“You make it sound like a damned detective novel. Who says it was eight minutes past twelve when Wray and Pearson got upstairs?”
“Both of them, sir.”
The Chief Constable grunted.
“Very noticing of them. Fellows don’t generally look at the clock every time they go into a room.”
“Well, sir, it was New Year’s Eve. And Pearson makes no bones about it, he wanted to cover himself over this confessing business-says right out he’s the one the family would be glad to pick on if they could.”
“What’s he mean-the confessing, or the murder?”
Vyner said, “Both,” rather drily, and then, “I’m not going to say he’s wrong either. He’s only what you might call on the edge of the family, as you may say. But Mr. Wray bears him out over the matter of the clock-says it was all of eight minutes past before they separated.”
Colonel Bostock said, “H’m! What about the clock being wrong?”
“Well, sir, Mr. Paradine was very fussy about that-used to have a man up once a week to wind and set the clocks, until labour got scarce, then he did it himself. The butler says he’d have a fit if any of the clocks was half a minute out. I checked them over myself, and they were all the same, and all dead right.”
“All right, let’s get on. What about the nephews? Let’s see-they went off early too, didn’t they?”
“Yes, sir-at about a quarter to ten.”
“Together?”
“Yes, sir-on bicycles. Mr. Mark, he’s got a service flat in that new block, Birleton Mansions, just as you get into the town. He says he stopped there. Mr. Richard lodges farther on, in Lennox Street. Both of them say they left without seeing Mr. Paradine. Mr. Richard says he didn’t go out again. Mr. Mark says he went for a walk. As a matter of fact the policeman on duty on the bridge says he saw him. It was bright moonlight up to the time the rain came on. He says Mr. Mark passed him, going back in the direction of the River House. He puts the time at 10:20 or so- says he looked at his watch within a few minutes of seeing him, just to see how the time was getting on. I’ve only just had that, so I’ve not had the opportunity of putting it to Mr. Mark. Well, that’s as far as I’ve got with the nephews. Then there’s Mr. and Mrs. Wray. He’s here on business. He and his wife were occupying rooms on different sides of the house.”