Miss Silver inclined her head and said, ‘Certainly.’
‘You didn’t! You ought to be a lion-tamer! And not a single scratch? You’ve no idea how he reared in the air and clawed when the Chief had a go at him. We retired with bowed and bloody heads but no information.’
Miss Silver looked serious.
‘Mr Madoc’s temper is regrettable, and he has very bad manners, but fundamentally he is, I believe, an acutely sensitive person who is very much afraid of being hurt. His temper and his rudeness are a kind of protective armour.’
Frank looked astonished. Then he laughed.
‘And you dug him out of his armour like a winkle out of its shell! Well, what about those papers? Where are they?’
‘I may say that Mr Madoc displayed a good deal of intelligence. When not clouded by passion his reasoning powers are excellent. Like Janice Meade he was unable to believe that Mr Harsch had committed suicide. If he had been murdered, the motive which immediately sprang to mind was the possession of the notes and formula of harschite. He collected everything that he could find and went into Marbury by an early train on Wednesday morning. He admits frankly that his motive was partly the desire to get Mr Harsch’s papers out of the way before Sir George Rendal came down. He was not sure what powers the War Office might have. He wanted to see a solicitor, and he wanted time to consider his position – as a pacifist, as a government employee, and as Mr Harsch’s executor.’
Frank Abbott listened with interest.
‘What did he do?’
‘He visited a local solicitor, Mr Merevale, after which he proceeded to the Marbury branch of Lloyd’s bank where he handed in a large sealed envelope for safe custody.’
‘Then the papers are at Lloyd’s?’
Miss Silver smiled.
‘The envelope contained nothing but blank foolscap, but on his way home he called at the General Post Office and registered a second envelope addressed to the head office of the bank in London – a very intelligent move. The papers are there.’
Frank lifted an eyebrow.
‘Has anyone told you that there was an attempt to burgle the Marbury branch on Saturday night?’
Miss Silver said, ‘Dear me!’ And then, ‘I am not surprised. How providential that the papers, thanks to Mr Madoc’s foresight, were in London.’
Frank gazed appreciatively.
‘Well, you have him charmed! He’ll be eating out of your hand like the rest of us! By the way, I suppose he hasn’t had a change of heart about handing harschite over to the government?’
Miss Silver beamed.
‘How strange that you should ask me that. We had time for quite a nice long chat whilst we were waiting for you, and he informed me quite of his own accord that, on thinking it over, he had come to the conclusion that as Mr Harsch’s agent he was bound to act as Mr Harsch himself would have acted, quite irrespective of his own convictions, which he took pains to inform me, remained unchanged.’
‘And you had nothing to do with it, I suppose! It’s a fascinating subject, but we mustn’t dally. I want to talk about Madoc’s statement. I don’t know what arts you used to get him to make one, but you know the Chief’s always expecting to see you fly out of the window on a broomstick. But to come back to the statement – it’s a bit of a facer, isn’t it? I haven’t had time to think it out yet, but if he’s right about the distances, then Bush is out of the running as far as Harsch is concerned. And Madoc being out of the running for Ezra Pincott, that leaves us with the person who left the churchyard on the green side with Ezra hot in pursuit. Madoc says this person may have been male or female, nobody but Ezra being near enough to say which. Difficult to avoid the conclusion that Ezra did not see only that but a damning bit more, that he tried a spot of blackmail on the strength of it, and that he got himself bumped off.’
‘That is so.’
‘Well then, where do we go from there?’
‘With the Chief Inspector’s approval, I would suggest a further interrogation of Gladys and Sam. They went for a walk round the Green, probably entering the churchyard at some time after ten minutes to ten. Gladys says she did not take any notice of whether there was a shot or not, which points to their being at some distance from the church at the time. She thinks they had been getting on for ten minutes in the churchyard before Bush came out and the clock struck ten. They must have got there after Bush, as they did not see him enter the church. Now I would like very much to know whether they started out for their walk by the road which passes the houses, or whether they took the round in reverse and came back that way. If this was the case, I think it possible that they may have met the person Mr Madoc did not recognise – the person who left the churchyard almost immediately after the shot was fired.’
‘Wouldn’t they have said?’
Miss Silver coughed.
‘Anything very familiar may easily be disregarded. For instance, the church clock at Bourne chimes the quarters. How many of the people in those houses round the Green really hear it? I have asked a number of them, and they say they hardly ever notice the chimes. In the same way, I think it is possible that Gladys and Samuel might have encountered someone whom it would be quite natural to see at that time and in that place without really noticing them at all. There is a pillar-box just opposite the Rectory gate. If, let us say, Mrs Mottram, or Dr Edwards, or Miss Doncaster, or Mr Everton, or the rector, were observed either coming or going between his or her own house and this pillar-box, what would be the natural conclusion? You see, it is as easy as that – those young people would not have attached the slightest importance to such an encounter.’
Frank looked dubious.
‘I should have thought they would have mentioned it.’
Miss Silver smiled.
‘Have you found that village people are at all apt to volunteer information? That is not my experience. They may, or may not, answer a direct question, but they rarely volunteer anything. There is an instinct of secrecy which is bred into their very bones. There are well known cases where what was common knowledge on the subject of a crime has never reached the authorities even after a couple of generations. In the present case, however, we have to deal with goodnatured, artless young people, and I think a direct question or two might elicit the facts.’
Frank nodded.
‘It shall be done. Now what about these times? They run pretty fine. I’d like to go over them with you.’ He paused as the waiter took away their plates, and got out his notebook. When the stooping elderly figure had gone away down the long room, he bent the book back to make the pages stay open and leaned across the corner to Miss Silver. ‘I’ve roughed it out here from the statements. Some of the less important times are guesswork.