‘And that will be so very useful when she has a home of her own.’
‘That’s what I was thinking,’ said Frederick artlessly. ‘But Gloria wants to go into a shop in Emsworth, and I don’t like it for her-not winter evenings, with that long road back in the dark, and you can’t always get on a bus just when all the shops come out.’
Miss Silver said in an indulgent tone,
‘I should not say too much against it if I were you, Frederick. Girls like to have their own way, you know, and it is a pity for a discussion to become a quarrel.’
He looked worried.
‘That’s right-we had ever such a quarrel about it Saturday.’
Miss Silver continued to knit. She gazed with interest at Frederick and said,
‘A quarrel should never be allowed to go on. I hope you were able to make it up without delay.’
The colour rushed up under his pale skin. He turned his head away and fumbled with the wood.
‘Oh, we made it up all right,’ he said.
‘On the Saturday night?’ said Miss Silver.
There was a horrid pause. She repeated her question.
‘On Saturday night, Frederick?’
‘Oh, miss!’ The words came out with a gulp. Miss Silver said with gentle authority,
‘You slipped out of the house and went down to see her and make it up, did you not? When the house was quiet and you thought everyone had gone to bed? Pray do not be so much alarmed, my dear boy. You were breaking a rule, but I would not readily believe that you have done anything that is really wrong. I am sure that you only wanted to make it up with Gloria, but I think when you were coming, or going, that you may have seen or noticed something which is weighing upon you, and which you should not now keep to yourself.’
Frederick stared with bolting eyes. Sweat broke out upon him. From his wet and sticky hands a log dropped unregarded upon the hearth-rug. Miss Silver’s mild gaze appeared to him in the terrifying aspect of a searchlight. That stealthy passage from his room, the even more stealthy return, and all the horror that lay between, were most startlingly revealed by it. In a moment the thing which no one knew-that he hardly dared to think about-the thing that came walking into his dreams to wake him drenched with fear, would be trumpeted aloud. In the next moment, here in this room, he would have to hear the words against which he stopped his ears in the night, cramming the blankets over his head and cowering down in his bed, shaking with terror as he was shaking now.
Miss Silver laid down her knitting and leaned forward to put a hand on his arm.
‘My poor boy! Pray do not be so much distressed. No one is going to harm you, and you can harm no one who is innocent.’ The kindness which flowed from her completed the overthrow of Frederick ’s self-control. He broke into tears and stammered between sobs.
‘That Miss Lila-she never done it-she’s the innocent one- she wouldn’t harm anyone-not for the world she wouldn’t. I did ought to have said so before-it didn’t seem as if I could. It wasn’t just getting into trouble with Mr. Marsham-though I’d have done that all right, sneaking out in the night, and he’d have thought worse about it than what it was. There wasn’t any harm in it, miss-I’ll take my Bible oath there wasn’t-only to see Gloria and make it up.’
The words came out between choking gulps. There were tears and rending sniffs, there was a hasty fumbling for a handkerchief which could not be found. Always equal to the occasion, Miss Silver produced a clean one of her own, neatly folded and of a most sensible size. Under its ministrations and her steadying air of calm the sobs lessened in violence and the words with which they were interspersed became more coherent.
When her experience informed her that a suitable moment had arrived she said briskly,
‘And now suppose you tell me all about it.’
CHAPTER XXXVII
Chief Detective Inspector Lamb was in no mood to be trifled with. His second daughter, Violet-the flighty one-had been trying his temper to the utmost and upsetting her mother to a really serious extent by announcing that she proposed to become engaged to a South American dance-band leader. It was in vain that his other daughters, Lily now a comfortable matron, and Myrtle on the point of completing her training as a nurse, took every opportunity of pointing out to him that Violet was always getting engaged and it never came to anything, so why worry. As Lily said, ‘If she didn’t go through with it when it was that nice Major Lee, or that very good-looking Squadron Leader, or the young man whose uncle had a blacking factory, well, why shouldn’t she break it off with Pedrillo?’ The mere name sent the blood to Lamb’s head in a most alarming manner. Foreigners existed, and a nice mess they made of things by all accounts. Look at Hitler-look at Mussolini-look at all those foreign Communists! Well, there they were, and they’d got to be put up with or got rid of, according as the case might be, and no doubt some of them were to be pitied and given a helping hand to. But to go bringing them into the family was just a bit of tomfool craziness. Violet and her, ‘Hasn’t he got lovely dark flashing eyes, Pop?’! She needn’t think she could get round him with silly pet names. He was a Chapel member in good standing, but he’d never been nearer swearing in his life.
He was therefore in no mood for tolerance. Frank Abbott, encountering the slightly bulging eyes which had so often evoked an irreverent comparison with the larger kind of peppermint bullseye, was made duly aware that he had better mind his p’s and q’s. The slightest sign of uppishness, and one of the Chiefs most formidable harangues would be forthcoming. Frank knew them all by heart, and had no desire to hear any of them again. He therefore trimmed his course with care and having weathered the short passage from Emsworth station to the office which the County Superintendent had placed at their disposal, was rewarded by a menacing glare and a rasp in the voice more suggestive of a lion than a lamb.
‘Very mild and meek all of a sudden, aren’t you? Makes me wonder what you’ve been getting up to. It’s not natural, and when people don’t act naturally, that’s the time you’ve got to watch ’em. What have you been doing?’
Frank’s left eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly. With a slight accentuation of his usual manner he replied,
‘Nothing, sir.’
The suggestion of an approaching storm was intensified. Lamb sat back in his chair, his big body filling it squarely, his face ruddy and lowering, his strong black hair asserting its vigour by something as near a curl as a drastic hair-cut would allow.
‘Nothing?’ he repeated. ‘Well, I suppose you think that’s a recommendation. A man is murdered in his own house four or five days before his wedding, the girl he’s going to marry is found with her hands all over blood, the dagger that stabbed him lying at her feet, and the man she was going to elope with-old lover chucked over for a richer man-actually in the room.’
‘Only one hand, sir.’
‘Only one!’ The Chief Inspector drew in his breath and let it out again explosively. ‘It doesn’t take more than one hand to stab a man, does it?’
‘No, sir.’
Lamb thumped his knee with a powerful fist.
‘Well then, get on and arrest her-get on and arrest young Waring! It’s as clear as daylight, isn’t it? She was going to elope with him. Sir Herbert Whitall comes down and catches them, and one of them stabs him. Looks as if it was the girl. The dagger was lying there handy, and she grabbed it.’
‘Well, sir-’
He got no farther than that, because the storm broke.
‘Too easy for you, I suppose! Not clever enough! No scope for showing off and making a splash! That’s about the size of it, isn’t it?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Yes, sir-no, sir-well, sir! Might as well be a talking dummy and have done with it! Polite as pie and respectful as you please on top, and as insubordinate as the devil underneath! If there’s one thing that riles me more than another, it’s that, and you know it! If you’ve got anything to say-and I suppose you have-you’d better by half come out with it!’