“Naturally.”
“You had entrusted these papers to Mr. Paradine?”
“What makes you think that?”
Miss Silver smiled.
“I feel sure of it, Mr. Wray. I also feel sure that when Mr. Paradine summoned you at seven o’clock last night it was in order to inform you that these papers, or some of them, were missing.”
Elliot jerked back his chair and sprang up.
“Who told you that? Was it Mark?”
Miss Silver regarded him with intelligent interest. Then she said primly,
“I do not imagine that Mr. Mark Paradine knows.”
Elliot was leaning towards her across the table.
“Then it was Lydia-Lydia told you.”
Miss Silver shook her head.
“I am quite sure that Miss Pennington does not know either.”
“Then how the devil do you know?”
Miss Silver gazed at him in reproof. To his extreme astonishment he found himself flushing beneath this gaze.
“I beg your pardon! But would you mind telling me who did tell you?”
Her look became one of forbearance. He felt himself the backward boy to whom a teacher patiently explains the obvious.
“The evidence told me, Mr. Wray. You will forgive me if I touch on what may be painful. There had been a breach between you and Mr. Paradine’s family for a year. Your dining and spending the night here could only mean one of two things-a reconciliation, or an emergency of such gravity as to cause all other considerations to be set on one side. There was no evidence of a reconciliation. Your appearance in the drawing-room just before dinner startled everyone. It was obviously quite unexpected even by Miss Paradine-even, pardon me, by Mrs. Wray. I had therefore to consider the other alternative, an emergency so sudden and urgent that Mr. Paradine himself cancelled your dinner engagement and was able to induce you to co-operate in a plan which necessitated your joining the party at dinner and staying the night. Taken in conjunction with his remark about betrayal and his statement that he knew who the guilty person was, this led me to the conclusion that Mr. Paradine had missed some important paper or papers, that he knew who had taken them, and that he believed he could put sufficient pressure on this person to secure their return. On this assumption your acquiescence and the scene at the dinner table fall naturally into place. A very serious motive is also supplied for the murder of the person who possessed such damaging information.”
Elliot dropped slowly back again into his chair. His hands still gripped the edge of the table. They continued to grip it. After a moment he said,
“You’ve been about a quarter of an hour in the house. Are you telling me that you’ve found this out for yourself? I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it. I want to know what Mark and Lydia have been telling you. I don’t want to be offensive, but you must see that if either of them knew that my blue-prints had been taken, well, it points to one of them as the thief. Only three people knew that the prints were missing-the person who took them, Mr. Paradine, and myself. If Mark or Lydia knew-”
Miss Silver coughed.
“Very well put, Mr. Wray. It is a pleasure to deal with anyone who can take a point so quickly. I can, however, assure you that neither Mr. Mark nor Miss Lydia so much as hinted at the possibility that Mr. Paradine’s accusation had anything to do with your papers. Miss Lydia merely informed me that there had been a serious breach between you and the Paradine family, but that your business relations were not affected. Mr. Mark added that your present visit was on government business of a confidential nature. My deductions were drawn from these and a number of other small facts. I gather from what you have said that they are correct.”
He let go of the table and leaned back.
“Oh, yes, they are correct.”
Miss Silver opened the green copybook and wrote in it. Then she said,
“Mr. Paradine told you that he knew who had taken the papers?”
“Yes.”
“Did he give you any indication of who that person was?”
“No, he didn’t.”
She looked up at him, pencil in hand.
“Mr. Wray, you can help me here. You are shrewd and observant. I want to know the impression made on you at the time by his voice, his look, his manner. To what extent did they betray feeling-emotion- shock?”
Elliot gave a short laugh.
“It wasn’t Mr. Paradine’s way to show his feelings.”
“Still, you might have received some impression, and you must subsequently have gone over that impression in your own mind. The discovery of the loss must have been a shock to Mr. Paradine. Did you think then, or do you think now, that this shock was a personal one?”
Elliot looked at her, first with surprise and then with attention.
“He was in very good spirits. If you ask me, I should say that he was enjoying himself. He told me I’d got to stay, and told me I should have my papers back in the morning. Since you know so much, I may as well tell you that he was perfectly right-I did get them back. They were here on his table.” He leaned over to indicate the corner on her left. “I took them, but I didn’t mean to say anything about it. I thought that Mr. Paradine’s death was an accident-we all did at first. When it seemed that it was murder, I had to consider my position. As a result I didn’t feel justified in holding my tongue, and when the Chief Constable came out here this afternoon I told him what you’ve just been telling me.” On the last words his lips twisted into an odd one-sided smile.
Miss Silver said,
“Thank you, Mr. Wray. You did quite rightly. Let us return to Mr. Paradine. He was not, you think, emotionally affected by his knowledge of the thief’s identity?”
Elliot grinned suddenly and said,
“Mr. Paradine didn’t have emotions.”
It seemed to Miss Silver that he was evading the issue.
“I will put it another way,” she said. “Mr. Paradine had ten guests last night. From your own observation, for which of those ten people had he most affection?”
Elliot said bluntly,
“I’m not really stupid, you know-I can see what you’re getting at. You want to know whether the person who took the papers was someone he was fond of, and whether he was upset about it on that account. Well, offhand, I should say he wasn’t. I’m not saying this to the police, and I’m not swearing to it in any conceivable circumstances, but if you want that impression you were talking about just now, I don’t mind giving it to you. I thought he’d caught someone out and he was going to enjoy scoring him off. But that may have been a put-up show. I don’t think it was, but that’s just my opinion. I’ve known one other person who could look as pleased as Punch and be in a perfectly foul temper underneath. I don’t think Mr. Paradine would have given himself away whatever he felt. He didn’t show his feelings-you wouldn’t even know whether he’d got any. He had a very detached, sarcastic manner. But if you want my own personal impressions about him and the family, here they are. I think he was fond of my wife. And I suppose he was fond of his sister-she’d kept house for him for twenty years. But that’s supposition, not impression. I believe he thought a lot of Mark. He’s in the research department, and he’s done very good work. He wanted to go off to the R.A.F. a couple of years ago, and Mr. Paradine went right through the roof. I wasn’t here at the time, but I believe there was an absolutely first-class row. I don’t know what he felt about Dick Paradine. Everyone in the family is rather fond of him, so there’s no reason to suppose Mr. Paradine wasn’t. Then there are Frank and Brenda Ambrose. They’re steps-his wife’s children. He thought a lot of her, and I suppose he thought a lot of them. He settled money on them when they came of age. Frank’s in the business-solid, useful kind of chap, very thorough and methodical. Brenda is a bit odd-man-out in the family-a bit on the downright side.” His laugh informed Miss Silver that this was an understatement.