“There was something between them all the same. They were heard quarrelling on the road coming up from the watersplash on the Thursday evening. Here’s a statement from Mrs. Stone, and Miss Susan Wayne doesn’t deny it. Later on that evening Miss Sims, who is Dr. Croft’s housekeeper, heard them talking on the telephone.”
The Superintendent nodded.
“Livens a village up having a party line,” he said.
“Well, here’s what she says… Then after I’d seen Miss Susan Wayne I went back again to the Miss Blakes. Miss Mildred had gone to church, but the other one was full of information. Said the girl was setting her cap at Edward Random- always ringing him up and trying to make dates with him- talking in a very confidential kind of way and calling him darling every second word”
“That don’t go for much these days.”
“I said that too, but Miss Ora stuck to it the girl was very affectionate. And she said it wasn’t a new thing-they had known each other before. Seems she had nursed his uncle, Mr. James Random.”
The Superintendent took his pipe out of his mouth.
“That’s nonsense. It’s a year since Mr. Random died, and nobody knew that Mr. Edward was alive for another six months after that.”
“But that’s not what she meant. She says the girl came down to the Hall to nurse Mr. Random as long as seven years ago, and that she and Edward Random were very friendly then.”
Superintendent Nayler made the sound which is generally written “Pooh!”
“Old maids’ gossip!” he said. “Seven years ago! Why, he wouldn’t have been twenty then!”
“There might have been something between them all the same, and she might have come down to Greenings to pick up with him again. Anyhow she did come down, and by all accounts she made a dead set at him, and he wasn’t much for it. Suppose now there was a child and he was afraid of it coming out. Miss Sims states she heard her say, ‘There’s something you ought to know.’ ”
Nayler drew at his pipe.
“You’ve been reading fancy novels, my lad,” he said.
Bury flushed.
“That’s all very well, but look how it fits in. They were very friendly seven years ago. Then he’s missing for five years, and there are some pretty queer stories going round as to why he let everyone think he was dead. Then he and Clarice Dean come back to Greenings within twenty-four hours of each other, and she keeps on telephoning and trying to see him. She says, ‘There’s something you ought to know.’ Then they are heard quarrelling on the way up from the watersplash. He comes home that way, and it’s plain enough she went to meet him. Mrs. Stone hears her asking him not to be angry and saying he frightens her. Next morning someone puts a note in through the Miss Blakes’ letter-box. Well, you’ve seen it. It says, ‘All right, let’s have it out. I’ll be coming back late tonight. Meet me at the same place. Say half past nine. I can’t make it before that.’ It’s only signed with initials, and I don’t say anyone could swear to them, but they could be E. R.”
The Superintendent leaned back in his chair with half-closed eyes. A deep and peaceful silence settled about him. When it had lasted as long as he wanted it to he said,
“Might be-or might not. Plenty of other letters in the alphabet, and pretty well all of them to choose from. Have you put any of this to Mr. Edward?”
“No-he was out. I thought I had better see you first.”
There was a slow, comfortable nod.
“Quite right-quite right. No hurry that I can see. When it comes to a case like this, there’s a lot to think about. Very tricky, it might be, and a matter of looking before you leap. It don’t matter a lot to me-I’m due to retire in the spring-but you are an ambitious young fellow, and you’ve got your way to make. I’m not speaking officially. I’m here in my own house on a Sunday afternoon, and I’m off duty, and what I say is off the record. There’s a lot of wheels within wheels, and you don’t want to put a foot wrong. Randoms have been at Greenings a good many hundred years. Mr. James Random always very much respected. Chairman of the Bench, treasurer of the hospital before it got taken over-all that kind of thing. Then through his mother Mr. Edward is related to some very influential people in the county.” He removed his pipe, blew out a mouthful of smoke, and repeated the words with a slow emphasis upon them, “Very-influential-people. And on the top of that-and I don’t know that it’s not the most important of the lot-there’s Lord Burlingham that’s been sticking up for him through thick and thin and has just put him in as his agent.” He set his pipe back in his mouth and sucked at it meditatively. “You know, Jim, if I had to pick on someone in the county to get up against, it wouldn’t be Lord Burlingham-that’s all.”
Bury stared indignantly.
“You don’t mean to say we’re to stand by when a girl has been murdered and do nothing because Lord Burlingham wouldn’t like it if we arrested his agent!”
The Superintendent was quite unruffled.
“There you go-jumping to conclusions. Everyone in the wrong except yourself. Who said anything about standing by and letting girls be murdered? Too much imagination, that’s what you’ve got, my lad, and you’d better watch it. And not miss what’s under your nose. If I’ve got to dot my i’s and cross my t’s, I’ll do it, and maybe next time you’ll know for yourself. If Mr. Edward has been up to anything, then he’ll be for it the same as any Tom, Dick or Harry. The law is no respecter of persons, and don’t you forget it. If he was responsible for this young woman’s death he’ll be run in for it. What I’ve been getting at, and what you are too set in your own opinions to get hold of, is that there isn’t any call for it to be us that run him in. I can go along to the Chief Constable, can’t I, and put it to him the same as I’ve put it to you, only more delicate if you take me, and when he’s got a hold of it I can come in quite easy and natural with a piece about all the young woman’s friends and connections being in London, and what about asking Scotland Yard to take a hand.”
Bury looked cross and dubious.
“Call in the Yard?”
Nayler gave a slow laugh.
“You heard me. And if they take over-well, that lets us out, don’t it? Nobody’s going to give us any black marks once the Yard has been called in.”
“Or any good ones either,” said Bury ruefully.
Nayler drew at his pipe.
“You won’t find any good marks knocking about over this business, my lad. Get out of harm’s way and stop there, same as I’m going to, and same as you’ll find the Chief Constable will.”
CHAPTER XXII
There was still some cold, sallow daylight outside, but Miss Silver’s bright blue curtains were drawn, and the electric light shone down upon a well furnished tea-table. Emma Meadows had made some of her feather-light scones, there were two kinds of sandwiches, and a highly ornamental cake with almond icing which nobody could have told from the real thing. All this for the benefit of Detective Inspector Frank Abbott who had come to tea on this Sunday afternoon.
“Emma spoils you,” said Miss Silver with an indulgent look.
Frank, long and lazy in one of the Victorian chairs, reached for another sandwich. The light shone upon mirror-smooth fair hair, a beautiful dark blue suit, the latest and most restrained of ties, handkerchiefs and socks, and upon shoes which did full justice to long, elegant feet. Nobody, in fact, would have taken him for a police inspector. He said in a languid tone,
“It does my Unconscious no end of good to be spoiled.”
Miss Silver registered disapproval.
“My dear Frank!”
“It was thwarted when I was a child. You didn’t know my grandmother, but you’ve seen her portrait. She was a good thwarter, and if your grandmother thwarts you when you are three, you get a complex, or an inhibition or something that sours you for life.”