“Why should you have been angry?”
“Mrs. Lamont staying on like that-I knew she’d been saying things. She hates me. I thought you kept her on purpose because I wanted to speak to you.”
“But when she went you did not speak-”
“I was working up for it-and then Cousin Sophy had to come in-I felt as if everything was against me. I took the bracelet.”
There was silence for some time before Lady Pemberley said,
“What did you do with it?”
It was out now. There couldn’t be anything worse. She drew in her breath.
“I meant to pawn it. I had to have the money at once. I meant to pawn it and tell you what I’d done. And then you got ill-I couldn’t.”
“You pawned it?”
Moira shook her head.
“I tried to. I got the wind up-the man asked questions-I should have had to leave my name and address and pay interest. I funked it. I went into Crossley’s and sold it over the counter. They didn’t ask any questions. It seems they knew me, though I didn’t think of that at the time. I couldn’t get at you-you were very ill.”
She heard Lady Pemberley say,
“And you thought that if I died, the bracelet would be yours and nobody would know?”
It was true. She hadn’t any answer to make. She made none.
After a while Lady Pemberley said,
“How does Mr. Porlock come into it?”
“He saw the bracelet. He recognized it. He said it was one of a pair, and that Napoleon gave them to Josephine. He knew they belonged to you. He bought the bracelet and tried to blackmail me. He wanted me to do jackal for him-scavenge for scandals, so that he could carry on his blackmailing business. I told him there was nothing doing. That was on Saturday evening. I made up my mind then to come up to town on Monday morning and tell you. Then after dinner somebody stabbed him.”
“Do you know who did it?”
“No.” She laughed suddenly. “I should have liked to do it myself! But you needn’t be afraid-I didn’t.”
It is possible that Lady Pemberley had been afraid-it is possible that she now experienced relief. It was not in her character to admit to either. She put out a thin, ringless hand and rang the bell on her bedside table.
Dawson came in, elderly, sensible, a little prim. Lady Pemberley spoke to her at once.
“Oh, Dawson -my keys, and the large jewel-case. Miss Moira has one of the ruby and diamond bracelets, and she might just as well have the other. It is a pity to separate them. Get it out and let me have it.”
Moira said nothing at all. It had not often happened to her to find herself without words. It happened now. She stood like a stone whilst Dawson set the jewel-case down on the dressing-table-whilst she unlocked it, lifted out trays, and came over to the bed to put the other bracelet into Lady Pemberley’s waiting hand.
Dawson was a little cross because Miss Moira didn’t speak. She thought she might have said something pretty and given her ladyship a kiss, instead of standing there for all the world like Lot ’s wife. She was locking up the jewel-case again, when Lady Pemberley spoke.
“Just remind me to alter the list of my jewellery, and to let Mr. Ramsay know about taking the bracelets out of my will. It will be much pleasanter to think of Miss Moira wearing them now. Thank you, Dawson, that will be all.”
When the door had shut and they were alone again Moira lifted her eyes. She had the stolen bracelet in her hand. She took a step forward and laid it down on the purple coverlet.
“I can’t take them, Cousin Sibylla.”
Lady Pemberley said gently,
“But I want you to have them.”
Something in Moira gave way. A kind of dizzy warmth swept over her. She sat on the edge of the bed and felt the tears run scalding down.
Chapter XXVII
When Justin Leigh walked into the hall of the Grange after putting his car away it was a quarter to one. They had made very good time on the way down. If he found Moira Lane unusually silent, he preferred it that way. He had plenty to think about.
He had hardly shut the front door behind him when to his surprise Dorinda came out of the study. She clutched him and pulled him back into the room.
“I want to talk to you-I thought you were never coming. It’s quite dreadful. The police have only just gone, and Mr. Winter is washing his hands.”
Justin shut the study door.
“Darling, you’re gibbering. Who or what is Winter?”
Dorinda gazed at him with widened eyes.
“He’s Mr. Porlock’s solicitor. The Scotland Yard policeman got him down-he arrived about eleven o’clock-”
He interrupted her.
“I wasn’t really asking for a biography.”
“Justin, it’s too dreadful. They rang up and said would I come over, because he’d brought down Mr. Porlock’s will. Only of course it isn’t Mr. Porlock-it’s Uncle Glen, and he’s left everything to me.”
Justin whistled. Then he said,
“Not really!”
Dorinda nodded.
“Frightful-isn’t it?”
Justin looked at her curiously.
“What makes you say that?”
She had turned quite pale.
“Justin, I can’t take it. He usedn’t to have any money. I’m sure he made it some wicked way.”
“Blackmail, my dear-just a little simple, innocent blackmail.”
“Oh, how-” She hesitated for a word, and came out with a childish ‘beastly!’ “I’m glad I said at once I didn’t want it.”
“You said that?”
“Yes, I did-to the policemen, and to Mr. Winter. I said I couldn’t imagine why he’d thought of leaving it to me. And Mr. Winter said-he’s a little grey man, very respectable, and industrious like an ant, only of course ants aren’t grey, but you know what I mean-he twiddled his pince-nez, and he said his client had informed him that he had no relatives, but that he would like to benefit a niece of his late wife’s-said he had lost touch with her, but he remembered her as a pleasant little girl. I suppose I ought to feel grateful, but when I think how he did his best to get me put in prison for shoplifting-well, I can’t. He did, you know. The big policeman said so.”
Justin was looking serious.
“What are you going to do?”
She said, “I don’t know. I had to wait and see you. Mr. Winter says it will make everything a lot easier if he and I prove the will-we’re executors. If I don’t, the money will just go to the Crown, and there doesn’t seem to be any point about that. He says it will be better to prove it, and then, if he’s taken money from people, I can give it back. That bit isn’t what he said-it’s what I thought of myself. And then if there was anything over I could give it to something-for children perhaps. So I thought it would be better to let him get on with the will.”
“Had he much to leave? What does it amount to?”
“He isn’t sure. He knows there’s about five thousand pounds -he doesn’t know whether there’s anything more or not. Justin-they want me to come here.”
“Why?”
“They say it would be easier. You see, I’m one of the executors. In a way, it’s my house. There’s no one here to give any orders. Mr. Winter would like me to be here because, he says, we are responsible for the house and furniture-Uncle Glen had it on a year’s lease. And the police say it would make it easier for them.”
Justin said quickly,
“These people in the house-they’re a queer crowd, and one of them’s a murderer. I don’t want you here.”
“I don’t particularly want to come, but of course I see their point.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I wouldn’t come here unless I could have Miss Silver.”
“Miss Silver?”
“I told you last night I wished she was here. If you were here, and she was here, I wouldn’t mind being here too.”
“What about Mrs. Oakley?”
“That’s the extraordinary thing. The police came up and saw her after breakfast. She made me stay in the room. She’s dreadfully unhappy and dreadfully frightened. I can’t tell you about it, but if I was here I might be able to help a little. I mean, there might be things amongst Uncle Glen’s papers-that’s what she’s afraid of. And you see, if I’m an executor I should have the right to go through them with Mr. Winter and, I suppose, the police. And of course I would do my best for her, poor thing. She hasn’t any brains, but she does love her husband and Marty, and she’s sick with fright at the idea of losing them.”