Miss Silver knocked at the kitchen door and went in. She found Mrs. Crook sitting in front of the fire listening to the B.B.C. light programme.
“Pray do not disturb yourself. I will not detain you for more than a moment.”
Mrs. Crook reached out sideways and reduced the volume of an accordion band.
“Thank you, Mrs. Crook. It is wonderful how faithfully your set reproduces the tone—but just a little difficult when one is talking. I only came in to ask whether you would by any chance be going out this evening.”
“Well, I thought I might look in on Mrs. Grover.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“I wondered if you would be doing that, and whether you would mind taking a note for me to her son.”
“He’ll be in a dreadful way,” said Mrs. Crook.
“I am afraid so.”
“Thought the world of Mrs. Welby. I don’t want to say anything about them that are gone, but she shouldn’t have encouraged him the way she did—a boy like that! Where was her pride?”
“I expect she just looked upon him as a boy, Mrs. Crook.”
Bessie Crook bridled.
“Well, he’s got his feelings, hasn’t he? She might have thought of that. And so has my niece Gladys. Mrs. Welby didn’t think about her, did she? Come between two loving hearts, that’s what she did. Gladys and Allan, they’d been going together ever since they were in their cradles, as you might say. Living or dead, you can’t get from it—it’s not what a lady ought to do.”
This was a very long speech for Mrs. Crook. Her colour had deepened. She looked accusingly at Miss Silver.
“Let young people alone is what I say. But she couldn’t. Only yesterday morning she was off into Lenton and in Mr. Holderness’s office. Gladys had the morning off, and they went in on the same bus, so she thinks to herself, ‘I’ll see where she goes.’ And she hasn’t got to see far—straight through Friar’s Cut and into Mr. Holderness’s office! And nothing’ll make Gladys believe she didn’t go there after Allan. Quite downhearted she was when I saw her for a minute outside the Stores.”
Miss Silver’s note was a very short one. It ran:
Dear Mr. Grover,
I should very much like to see you if you can make it convenient.
Yours sincerely,
MAUD SILVER.
Having dispatched it by the hand of Mrs. Crook, she decided that she would not accompany Cecilia Voycey to evening service. She was therefore alone in the house when in response to a hesitating knock upon the front door she went to open it and saw the same tall, dark figure which had accompanied her across the Green.
She took him into the comfortable warmth of the drawing-room, and was able for the first time to receive an impression of him beyond that conveyed by his voice and his height. He was a goodlooking boy, even with his eyes red and swollen from weeping. He had a certain charm of youth, sincerity, and ardour. He took the chair she indicated, stared at her in a grief-stricken way, and said,
“I was coming to see you.”
“Yes, Mr. Grover?”
He said, “Yes. And then your note came. I’d been trying to make up my mind, because I can see it may ruin me. But I don’t care for that any more, only it will be hard on my people.”
“Yes?”
He sat forward with his hands hanging down between his knees. Sometimes he looked at her, and sometimes he stared upon the ground. His hands hung down.
“You can’t always hold your tongue because it will get you into trouble—”
Miss Silver was knitting quietly. She said,
“Not always.”
“I’ve been going over it in my mind all day, backwards and forwards, ever since I heard about her. It wasn’t fair to tell my father and mother, because you see, it may ruin me, and it would be like asking them to have a hand in it. And they’d think about it afterwards—it wouldn’t be fair. Then I thought about you. You let me talk to you about Cyril. I thought you’d understand —there’s something about you.”
As he said this he looked up suddenly.
“You don’t think I’m rude, do you? I don’t mean to be.”
She gave him the smile which had won so many confidences.
“I am quite sure about that. You can tell me anything you like. I am sure it is best to tell the truth. Concealments are of no real benefit to anyone. They breed more crimes.”
He looked startled, and said,
“More?” And then, “There’s been enough, hasn’t there?”
“Yes, Allan.”
The silence gathered, until he broke it with a sigh so deep that it was almost a sob.
“I’d no business to love her, but I did! I can’t let them say things about her and hold my tongue—can I?” Then, without waiting for an answer, “She came to the office on Saturday morning—that’s yesterday. It seems much longer ago than that. I was in the room where I work. She opened the door and came in. I took her along to Mr. Holderness’s room. Then I went back, but I couldn’t settle down. You see, there had been a lot of talk—talk about Mr. Lessiter coming back—talk about whether he would make it up again with Miss Cray— talk about whether he would let Mrs. Welby stay on at the Gate House, and whether he would let her keep the things Mrs. Lessiter had given her. I was worried for her in case she was turned out, or Mr. Lessiter wouldn’t let her keep the things. I didn’t know how things were, and I couldn’t sleep thinking about it. I couldn’t go and see her, because there had been talk—everyone talks in a village—and she’d told me to keep away. It was driving me silly.” He looked up, and down again, and drew one of those sobbing breaths. “When she came into the office I knew what she had come for—to talk to Mr. Holderness and get his advice. I was desperate to know how things were, and—well, I listened.” He threw up his head with a jerk and met Miss Silver’s calm, compassionate gaze. His face worked as he said with a mixture of pride and defiance, “I’d no right to—I’d no business— I know that. I just didn’t seem able to help myself.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“It was, of course, reprehensible, but I can understand your feelings. You say you listened. May I enquire how you contrived to do so?”
Her tone was kind and perfectly matter of fact. It steadied him. He said in a much quieter voice,
“We’re very short-handed. Mr. Jackson, the head clerk, has been laid up. Mr. Stanway, the other partner, is an invalid. He doesn’t come down to the office more than once in a blue moon, but he’s got his room there next to Mr. Holderness. When I joined the firm there was a clerk there called Hood. He told me, making a joke of it, that Mr. Stanway kept a brandy-bottle behind one of the panels in his room. I don’t know how he found out about it, but he took me in and showed me one day when we thought there wasn’t anyone about. It was a regular secret cupboard opening with a spring. There’s a bit of carving you move and the door comes open. Well, he showed it to me, and there was the brandy-bottle like he said. And whilst we were standing looking at it we got an awful start, because there was Mr. Holderness saying something as plain as if he was in the room. Just for a minute we thought he was, and we got the wind up properly. I can’t remember what he said. It was just something like ‘Now where on earth did I put those papers?’—talking to himself, you know. Hood looked at me and put up his hand and shut the panel ever so gently, and we got out of the room as quick as we could. We hadn’t any business to be there, and we wouldn’t have been there, only we thought Mr. Holderness had gone out.”
Miss Silver laid the sleeve of little Josephine’s jacket out flat upon her knee and measured it with her hand. It was still a couple of inches short of the right length. She said,
“You opened the cupboard in Mr. Stanway’s room yesterday and listened to what Mrs. Welby was saying to Mr. Holderness?”
“Yes, I did. I made an excuse to the girl who works in the same room with me. There were some papers Mr. Holderness had asked for, and I said I was going to look for them. I hadn’t ever opened the cupboard since Hood showed it to me, but I remembered how. It opened quite easily, and it didn’t make any noise—I expect Mr. Stanway kept the spring well oiled. Everything was just the same, only the cupboard was empty, the brandy-bottle was gone. And I could see why you could hear what was going on in the next room. The panel had warped and there was a crack all down one side, and there was a knot-hole too. I looked through it, and I could see Mrs. Welby sitting there. When I found I could see her I wasn’t thinking about listening any more—I just wanted to look at her. And then I couldn’t help listening, because Mr. Holderness said in the most—well, the most brutal way, ‘You’ve got yourself into a very dangerous position.’ ”
Miss Silver said, “Oh!” and he caught her up.
“I’ve got to tell you this, but I can’t if you’re going to think anything wrong about Mrs. Welby. Mrs. Lessiter gave her the things, and of course she thought they were hers to do what she liked with, and then Mr. Lessiter came along and he threatened—Miss Silver, he threatened to prosecute.”
“Yes—I was aware of that.”
He stared at her, his lip twitching.
“How anyone could be such—such a devil!”
“Pray go on, Allan.”
“They talked about it, and she said Mrs. Lessiter had given her the things. No, I think that was later—or before—I don’t know which—” He dropped his head into his hands and kept it there, fingers pressing in upon the temples. “She said he had told her he was going to prosecute, and she went to see him.”
“On the night of the murder?”
“Yes. But Miss Cray was there, so she came away.”
“She went back later.”
“You know that?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I do know it.”
“Yes, she went back. She told Mr. Holderness. She said she was in a very serious position, and he said why should it come out—she could hold her tongue. You know, when I was going over it afterwards, that’s when I began really to think. Up till then I was just frightened—terrified for her— but when he said that, I could see her. She wasn’t frightened, she was enjoying herself. I know how she looks when she’s pleased about something, and she was pleased. She didn’t exactly laugh, but there was that kind of sound in her voice. He said, ‘You can hold your tongue, can’t you?’ and she said, ‘Oh, yes—I have—I do. And I shall go on—unless I simply can’t help myself.’ ” He lifted his head again. “That’s what got me. He was the one who was in a state—she wasn’t. I shifted so that I could see him, and he looked dreadful. I thought to myself, ‘He’s got the wind up,’ and I couldn’t make out why. Then they began to talk about you.”
Miss Silver’s needles clicked. She said,
“Dear me!”
“Mrs. Welby was afraid you were finding out about things. There was something about a memorandum. She called it ‘that damned memorandum,’ and she said you knew about it. And then she said, ‘I wonder if I hadn’t better make a statement to the police and have done with it,’ and Mr. Holderness said it would be extremely dangerous.” His tone became suddenly harder, older. “That made me think some more. I didn’t like the way he said it. It sounded—it seemed ridiculous at the time—but I couldn’t help thinking it sounded as if he was threatening her.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“You interest me extremely.”
Allan Grover went on as if she had not spoken.
“It was when he said ‘dangerous.’ I was watching him through the knot-hole. He looked at her. It scared me, but she wasn’t scared. I moved so that I could see her, and she was laughing. And she said, ‘Dangerous? For whom?’ That’s where I got the feeling that I didn’t really know what they were talking about. It didn’t seem as if it could mean what it seemed to be meaning, because the next thing she said was, ‘If I make that statement I shall have to say what I saw when I came back.’ Mr. Holderness said her words over again, ‘When you came back—’ and she said, ‘I told you Rietta was with him the first time I went, and I told you I came back. I waited whilst she talked to him. It was highly entertaining. He told her he had found the old will he had made in her favour when they were engaged, and, do you know, she tried to get him to burn it! I always knew Rietta was a fool, but I didn’t think anyone could be quite such a fool as that. He told her he’d rather she had the money than anyone else. He said he had found the will when he was looking for the “memorandum.” From what he said, it was there on the table.’ And she said, ‘It was, wasn’t it?’ ” He made an abrupt movement. “When she said that, I didn’t seem to take it in. I don’t know if you can understand. I’ve got a very good memory—I could tell you everything they said and not miss a word.”
Miss Silver inclined her head. She had that kind of memory herself.
He went on.
“I can remember it all, but when I was listening to it it didn’t seem to mean anything. Mrs. Welby went on talking. She said Miss Cray quarrelled with Mr. Lessiter. It wasn’t about the will, it was about Mrs. Welby. Miss Cray wanted him to stop going on about the things his mother had given her, and he wouldn’t. He said he was going to prosecute.” Allan’s voice took on a tone of horror. “And then Miss Cray lost her temper and came out in a hurry. Mrs. Welby had only just time to get out of the way.”
Miss Silver’s needles clicked.
“Yes—I was sure that was how it happened. What did Mrs. Welby do after that? The interval has puzzled me. Did she go in then and see Mr. Lessiter?”
He shook his head.
“No, she didn’t think it was any use—not on the top of that quarrel. She went home and made herself some coffee. She told Mr. Holderness she sat there smoking one cigarette after another and thinking what she could do, and in the end she came round to where she had begun—she must go back and have it out with Mr. Lessiter. By the time she’d made up her mind it was ten o’clock. When she got as far as that, telling Mr. Holderness, he said, ‘That was a pity, Catherine.’ He hadn’t spoken all the time she was telling him until he said it was a pity. I didn’t know what he meant then, but I do now.” A quick shudder went over him. He stared piteously at Miss Silver. “I think that’s when he made up his mind to kill her.”
Miss Silver rested her hands on the small pale blue jacket and said,
“Yes, I suppose so.”
Allan Grover drew a long breath.
“She couldn’t see it, you know. I don’t think it ever occurred to her for one single moment that it would be dangerous to threaten him.”