Lady Dryden stood where she was with an angry flush on her face. Miss Silver gave a slight admonitory cough.
‘These inquiries are painful, but they must take their course. Believe me, it is not wise to oppose them. I gather from what he said that the Inspector is here.’
‘Two of them,’ said Lady Dryden. ‘There is a man from Scotland Yard with Inspector Newbury.’
Miss Silver looked brightly interested.
‘Indeed? May I ask his name?’
‘I believe it is Abbott.’
Miss Silver said in a pleased sort of way.
‘Really? How very pleasant! Such an able officer. And an old friend of mine.’
Dr. Everett made his appearance on the landing and began rapidly to descend the stairs.
‘A remarkable improvement. That’s a very sensible girl you’ve got with her. Nice girl-level-headed. Best thing possible for Miss Dryden. And she’s perfectly fit to make a statement. Of course she needn’t. I’ve told her that. Always play fair. She’s got a perfect right to refuse, or to hold her tongue until she can see her solicitor. But she’ll have to see the Inspectors and tell them so herself. I’ll be there.’ He went briskly off in the direction of the study.
Miss Silver considered her course of action. She had no wish to be intrusive, or to put herself in Frank Abbott’s way. It would not be very long before someone or other would mention her presence at Vineyards. Meanwhile she had spent quite an informative half-hour with Lila Dryden and Adrian Grey, to say nothing of the afternoon’s conversations with Lady Dryden and Mr. Haile. She felt that she had plenty of food for thought, and that it would be pleasant to finish little Josephine’s vest. She proceeded in the direction of the drawing-room.
It was, however, no more than a few minutes later that Lady Dryden followed her in a formidable cold rage. She had been refused permission to be present while Lila was questioned, and she strongly suspected that it was Dr. Everett who had instigated the refusal. She relieved herself by some very caustic remarks, and subsided finally into a state of icy resentment. For the first time in her life she was up against circumstances which she could not control and people whom she could not manipulate. The whole structure of the law, taken, as we all take it, for granted, emerged as a factor not to be diverted or compelled. Instead of a safeguard it had become a threat. She knew what it was to be afraid. She sat staring into the fire, and had no more words.
Upstairs Lila was supporting the ordeal of being questioned with perfect calm. Since Adrian was sure that she hadn’t killed Herbert, everything was quite all right. The immense relief of knowing that nobody could make her marry him now really left no room for anything else. Inspector Newbury and Inspector Abbott sat side by side and asked her a great many questions. Some of them she could answer, and some she couldn’t. When she didn’t know the answer she said so. It really wasn’t frightening at all.
‘Why did you go downstairs, Miss Dryden?’
‘I don’t know. Adrian says I was walking in my sleep.’
‘ïs that what he told you to say?’
Lila’s blue eyes opened quite wide. They were very beautiful eyes.
‘Oh, no-he saw me.’
That was Inspector Newbury. Then the London Inspector.
‘Did you go down to meet Mr. Waring?’
‘Oh, no. I was going to wait and see him in the morning.’
‘He wrote and asked you.to meet him?’
She gazed at him earnestly.
‘Oh, yes. And I didn’t know what to do. I thought, and thought, and I didn’t feel as if I could go down. Everything was so empty, and everyone in bed-except perhaps, I thought, Herbert might still be there, and if I went down-’ Her colour went. She said in a whisper, ‘I couldn’t.’
‘You were afraid of him?’
‘Oh, yes’-a shudder shook her-‘dreadfully.’
‘Then why did you go down?’
Ray stood behind the couch. The young man with the mirror smooth hair and the cold blue eyes was trying to catch Lila out. She had to bite her lip to keep back angry words. But there was no need to be angry. Lila wouldn’t be caught, because she was speaking the truth. She just looked at him and said,
‘But I didn’t-at least I didn’t mean to. It was cold, so I sat down on this couch and pulled the eiderdown over me. I had to think whether I would have to go down or not, and I thought I wouldn’t. I thought if I didn’t go down. Bill would come back in the morning, and that would be a great deal better. And then I must have gone to sleep. I didn’t mean to go down-I didn’t really.’
‘You know you did go down?’
‘I didn’t know I was doing it.’
‘You know you went down to the study?’
Her eyes widened.
‘I woke up there.’
‘Go on, Miss Dryden.’
‘Herbert was dead-’
‘How did you know he was dead?’
‘I thought he was-’
‘What made you think so?’
She said, ‘Blood’-in a whispering voice. ‘On my hand-and on my dress-’
‘And that made you think Sir Herbert was dead? Did you think you had killed him?’
She shook her head.
‘I didn’t think-it was all too dreadful. Adrian was there. He says I didn’t. He says he was just behind me.’
‘Did you dream when you were walking in your sleep?’
‘Oh, no-I don’t. At least I don’t remember it if I do.’
‘Do you often walk in your sleep?’
‘I used to when I was at school.’
‘And lately?’
‘Aunt Sybil said I came out on the landing one night last week. I didn’t know I did.’
‘And you don’t remember dreaming last night?’
She shook her head.
‘No-I just woke up. And Adrian was there.’
CHAPTER XXIII
It was about three-quarters of an hour later that Miss Silver, coming through the hall, was aware of Adrian Grey emerging from the passage which led to the study. He was not alone, and his companion was Detective Inspector Abbott. She had been about to go upstairs, but she paused and waited for them with a smiling face and an outstretched hand.
Frank Abbot took the hand and reciprocated the smile. Adrian Grey having mentioned that there was a Miss Silver staying in the house, he was by no means unprepared for the appearance of the lady whom he had been known in moments of expansion to address as Revered Preceptress. They were, all jesting apart, on a footing of deep attachment, and, upon Frank’s side, of a most unfeigned respect. As always in the presence of a stranger, she addressed him with formality.
‘Inspector Abbott-this is indeed a pleasure!’
Frank, on his side, was equally punctilious.
‘My dear Miss Silver! Grey told me that you were here. Perhaps we could have a talk-if you can spare me a little time?’
Adrian passed on, and they were alone. Miss Silver coughed.
‘I should appreciate the opportunity.’
Frank shed his formal manner.
‘Then come along to the study and give me the low-down on everything and everyone.’
She said, ‘My dear Frank!’ but her tone was an indulgent one.
They went down the passage together and came into the study.
No trace of the tragedy remained. Herbert Whitall’s body had been removed long ago. The photographer and the fingerprint man had done their work. The room had been ordered. The light which had shone down upon such a terrible scene now disclosed no trace of it. There was not even a stain on the deep-toned carpet to show where the ivory dagger had dropped from Lila’s bloodstained hand-if indeed it had so dropped. The couch upon which Adrian Grey had laid her stood at its accustomed angle to the fire. A bed of glowing ash sent out a pleasant warmth.
Miss Silver sat down on the sofa, not too near the fire, because the room was really very comfortable, whilst Frank Abbott arranged himself in a casual attitude on the arm of one of the big chairs. When she had opened her knitting-bag and extracted from it little Josephine’s vest and a crochet-hook she found him regarding her with a quizzical smile.