Garth laughed.
‘Ezra was after Giles’ rabbits!’ he said. ‘He could get rabbits anywhere, but it tickled him to get Giles’s – he’d been doing it for years. And a clever old poacher like him wouldn’t be foxed over which side of the road that shot came from. There wasn’t anything about sounds that Ezra wasn’t up to – I’ve been out with him and I know. He told me once he could hear an earwig walking on a leaf, and I believe him.’
‘That is very interesting, Major Albany. To continue. Hearing the shot, Ezra ran to the door in the churchyard wall and opened it. He saw Schmidt leave the church, and ran after him. We know that he caught him up, since Sam and Gladys now say, what would have been more useful if said at once, that, returning from their walk by way of the road which passes the houses, they observed Mr Everton and Ezra in conversation at Mr Everton’s gate. They heard Ezra say, “Drunk or sober, it’ll be something to talk about in the morning”, and he then went off laughing.’
‘Fit to bust himself,’ said Frank Abbott. ‘They also say that a little later on they saw Miss Doncaster come out and post a letter. As soon as she’d gone in they went into the churchyard. When I asked them why they hadn’t said all this when it was some use, they said it was only old Ezra and Mr Everton, and that old Miss Doncaster that’s always posting letters, and Gladys giggled and said, “You wouldn’t think she’d have a boyfriend, would you?” ’ He turned to Miss Silver, sitting on the footstool with his arms locked about his knees.
‘Reverend preceptress, why don’t you say, “I told you so”?’
He got an indulgent smile, but before Miss Silver could speak footsteps were heard in the hall and the door was flung open. Striding past the indignant Mabel, Mr Madoc bounced the door shut and comprehended the assembled party in a scowl of greeting. There was some kind of an inclination of the head in the direction of Miss Sophy and Miss Silver, after which his frowning regard came to rest upon his wife, who sat there as if she had been turned to stone. He addressed her in a series of angry jerks.
‘If you’re coming home you had better pack your box! Pincott’s van will call for it in half an hour!’
Without waiting for an answer he turned and went out. The door banged after him. The front door banged.
Medora Brown got up. Her marmorial pallor seemed to have gone for good. She was very much flushed, and she looked as if she might be going to cry. She came over to the sofa and said, ‘Dear Miss Sophy – may I?’ and then fairly ran out of the room.
Garth said, ‘Gosh!’ And then, ‘How long will it last?’
Miss Silver gave him a glance of mild reproof.
‘They have both been so very unhappy,’ she said. ‘I do not really think she will find him difficult to manage. Tact and affection should cure him of expecting to be hurt. I saw at once that that was the trouble, and I believe she will be able to deal with it.’
Garth just gazed, until Miss Silver turned back to her audience. Then he leaned over Janice, on the arm of whose chair he was sitting, and murmured, she hoped inaudibly, ‘Darling – swear to be tactful and affectionate.’
Miss Silver coughed.
‘There is very little more to say. I think that Ezra received some money on account. He seems to have stood drinks all round at the Bull, which was not his habit. But he showed the usual mounting appetite of the blackmailer, and – he began to talk. He became too dangerous to be tolerated. I think he was asked to call at a fairly late hour, met by Schmidt himself, and invited – probably – into the garage. Yes, I feel sure that it would have been the garage. Being a converted coachhouse, it is very roomy, and it houses a most convenient wheelbarrow. Ezra was offered brandy, which he accepted with avidity. He was then knocked out, placed in the wheelbarrow, and conveyed – probably across the Green, the shortest and safest way – to the place where he was found. There was some risk about this, but not very much – Bourne goes early to bed, and I recall that the night was cloudy. Returning home and unobserved, Schmidt must have considered himself safe. The case against Mr Madoc must have seemed very strong to him, and he would confidently expect a verdict of accidental death in Ezra’s case. I cannot praise too highly the acumen of Sergeant Abbott in detecting the dry specks of gravel which had adhered to the mud on Ezra’s boots, and his brilliant deduction that Ezra had not walked but been carried to the miry place where he was found.’
For the first and only time in his history Frank Abbott was seen to blush. The colour, though faint, was quite discernible, and it may be said that it filled Garth Albany with joy.
Miss Sophy heaved herself up from the sofa and announced that she must go to her poor Medora. Ida Mottram embraced Miss Silver, rolled her eyes at Frank, and announced with a faint scream that she must fly to Bunty.
But at the door she turned.
‘Oh, Mr Abbott, I suppose you can’t tell me, but it does seem such a pity – those lovely hens of Mr Everton’s – I suppose he wouldn’t divide them among us?’
‘I’m afraid I couldn’t suggest it, Mrs Mottram.’
‘Oh, well-’ She kissed her hand to the room and departed.
Miss Silver looked after her with affection. Then she turned to Garth and Janice.
‘I have a few things to put together in my room. My taxi should be here in about ten minutes’ time. Sergeant Abbott will be travelling with me as far as Marbury. It is always a little sad to say good-bye at the end of a case, but if the guilty have been discovered and the innocent cleared, I am cheered and encouraged. There is no greater cause than justice, and in my humble way I try to serve that cause. May I offer you my very best wishes, and my earnest hopes for your happiness?’
She went out – a little dowdy person in garments of outmoded style, the bog-oak rose at her throat, her hair, neatly controlled by a net, piled high in a tight curled fringe after the fashion set by Queen Alexandra in the Nineties and now just coming in again, her feet in woollen stockings and bead-embroidered shoes, a brightly flowered knitting-bag depending from her arm.
She went out, and Frank Abbott shut the door after her. As he turned back he was again seen to be slightly flushed. In a tone so far from official that it actually sounded boyish he exclaimed, ‘Marvellous – isn’t she!’
Patricia Wentworth
Born in Mussoorie, India, in 1878, Patricia Wentworth was the daughter of an English general. Educated in England, she returned to India, where she began to write and was first published. She married, but in 1906 was left a widow with four children, and returned again to England where she resumed her writing, this time to earn a living for herself and her family. She married again in 1920 and lived in Surrey until her death in 1961.
Miss Wentworth’s early works were mainly historical fiction, and her first mystery, published in 1923, was The Astonishing Adventure of Jane Smith. In 1928 she wrote The Case Is Closed and gave birth to her most enduring creation, Miss Maud Silver.
