Snare of Serpents (5 page)

“Has my father said whether he would be in to dinner tonight?”

Before she could answer Hamish looked up and said: “Nay, he’ll nae be in. I know. I’m driving him.”

Mrs. Kirkwell answered as though he had not spoken.

“He left a message that he would not be in.”

And soon after that, I left.

T
HE NEXT DAY
there was consternation. My necklace was missing. I had kept it in its blue case in the drawer of my dressing table and I could not believe it when I discovered that the case was there but not the necklace. Frantically I searched through all the drawers, but they revealed nothing. The necklace had disappeared. It was a mystery because I would not have dreamed of not putting it away in its case.

Everyone was shocked. When a valuable article like the necklace disappeared, said Mrs. Kirkwell, it was not very nice for those close by.

She was right. The necklace had been in my room. Now it was no longer there. Where was it? “Necklaces don’t walk,” said Mrs. Kirkwell. Therefore the inference must be that someone had taken it. Who? No one could feel entirely free from suspicion.

My father had not returned until late that night, driven home by Hamish, and as the household had retired he had not heard of the missing necklace until the next morning.

I don’t suppose I was the only one in the house who had a sleepless night. We had a thief in the house and my suspicions naturally turned to Hamish. If he were capable of that other thing, might he not believe that it was “human nature” to take a necklace from someone who did not need it and give it to someone who did—himself in this case?

But Hamish did not go beyond the kitchen. Since he was discovered in one of the bedrooms with Kitty it had been a tacit agreement that the upper floors were out of bounds to him unless he was summoned there by my father. Of course, there was always a possibility that he had not kept to the rule; but I had never seen him anywhere except in the kitchen since that affair. Yet it was not impossible that he might have crept up to my room and taken the necklace. If he had been caught there I was sure he would have had a ready explanation for his presence.

During the night when I was trying to sleep I went over what had happened since I last put the necklace on and I was sure I had put it back in the case when I last took it off.

My father was naturally horrified. He ordered that my room be thoroughly searched. He fired questions at me. Did
I remember taking off the necklace? Did I remember putting it into the case? Who had been in my room since then? Only the maid to clean and Miss Milne, of course. She came to discuss something with me. I forgot what.

He said that everyone should assemble in the library.

“This is a grievous matter,” he said to the company. “A valuable piece of jewellery is missing. Someone in this house knows where it is. I am going to give that person a chance to hand it over now. If this is done, I will consider the matter. But if it is not brought to me this day I shall inform the police. Is everyone here?”

“Where is Ellen?” asked Mrs. Kirkwell.

“I don’t know,” said Bess. “She was giving me a hand with the rooms. I called out to her when we had the order to come to the library.”

“Someone should be sent to tell her,” said Mrs. Kirkwell. “I’ll go myself.”

Mrs. Kirkwell did not have to go for just at that moment Ellen appeared. In her hand she held the pearl necklace.

“Ellen!” cried Mrs. Kirkwell.

“I heard Bess calling that we were to come here,” said Ellen. “But … I was finding this. I couldn’t shut the drawer … it looked untidy … half open. I thought something in the
drawer below might have caught up somehow. So I opened the lower drawer. It was a petticoat. I pulled it out and as I did this fell out. Is it the one that’s been lost?”

“In what drawer did you find this?” demanded my father.

“It was in Miss Milne’s room, sir.”

I looked at Lilias. Her face had turned scarlet; and then it was deathly pale. It was as though a voice was clanging in my head. “A nest egg … a nest egg …”

It could not be Lilias.

Everyone was looking at her.

My father said: “Miss Milne, can you explain how the necklace came to be in your drawer?”

“In … my drawer … it couldn’t have been.”

“But Ellen has just told us it was. And here it is. Come, Miss Milne, an explanation is needed.”

“I … I didn’t put it there. I … can’t understand.”

My father was looking at her severely. “It won’t do, Miss Milne, I want an explanation.”

I heard myself say in a high-pitched hysterical voice: “There must be some reason …”

“Of course, there is a reason,” said my father impatiently. “Miss Milne will give it to us. You took the necklace, did you not, Miss Milne? Unfortunately for you, you did not shut the drawer properly so Ellen saw that something was wrong. That was fortunate for us … but not for you.”

I have never seen such horror in any face as I saw in Lilias’ then.

How could you? I thought. I would always have helped you. Why did you take the necklace? And my father knows! My father is the sort of man who will not tolerate any sin—and stealing is a great sin. “Thou shalt not steal.” It is one of the commandments. Think of Kitty. Hamish, of course, was all right, but then he was a good coachman.

I wanted this nightmare to be over. The silence was terrible. It was broken by my father. “I am waiting for an explanation, Miss Milne.”

“I … I do not know how it came to be there. I did not know it was there …”

My father laughed softly but derisively.

“It will not do, Miss Milne. You have been discovered. I could, of course, hand you over to the police.”

She caught her breath. I thought she was going to faint. I had to restrain myself from going to her and putting my arms around her and telling her that whatever she had done she was my friend.

She raised her eyes and looked at me … pleadingly … asking me to believe her. And in that moment I did. I could not believe that Lilias would ever have stolen my necklace even though she so longed to have some bulwark against a needy future … a nest egg. I marvelled that I could ever have doubted her innocence and loathed myself for having done so.

“This is a crime,” went on my father. “All these years you have been in my household and I have been harbouring a thief. It is very distressing to me.”

“I did not,” cried Lilias. “I did not. Someone put it there.”

“Indeed someone put it there,” retorted my father grimly. “You, Miss Milne. You are the daughter of a vicar. You must have had a religious upbringing. That makes the matter so much worse.”

“You are condemning me without question.” Lilias’ eyes flashed. It was the spirit of desperation. Who could have put the necklace in her room? What was the point of it? If someone had taken it, of what use would it be to steal it and give it up … just to accuse Lilias?

“I have asked you for an explanation,” went on my father, “but you have none.”

“I can only say I did not take the necklace.”

“Then explain how it came to be in your room.”

“I can only say that I did not put it there.”

“Miss Milne, as I said, I could prosecute you. You could then give your explanations in a court of law. But because of your family and the fact that you have been in this house for so many years during which time no thefts have been discovered against you, I am taking a lenient view. I will say that you were overcome by a sudden temptation … and you submitted to it. So … I am going to ask you to pack your bags and leave
this house at once. Mrs. Kirkwell will accompany you and make sure that you take nothing with you which does not belong to you.”

She looked at him with hatred. “How can you? How can you judge me so unfairly? I will not be treated like a criminal.”

“You would prefer to have your case judged in court?”

She covered her face with her hands, and then, without another word, turned and went out of the room.

My father said: “This is regrettable but the matter is closed.”

Closed? With Lilias dismissed for theft! Her reputation was tarnished. She would live her life in fear of the fact that she had been accused of stealing would be brought to light.

I went to her room. She was sitting on her bed staring gloomily before her. I ran to her and put my arms about her.

“Oh, Lilias … Lilias,” I cried. “This is awful. / believe you.”

“Thank you, Davina,” she said. “Who could have done this to me? What could be the point?”

“I don’t know. First poor Kitty and now you. It’s as though there is some horrible curse on this house. It’s ever since my mother died.”

“I shall have to go home and tell them. How can I do that?”

“Your father will understand. He will believe you. He is a Christian.”

“I shall be a burden to them. I shall never be able to get another post.”

“Why not?”

“Because they will want to know where I have been … why I left.”

“Couldn’t you say I was getting old. It’s true.”

“They would get into touch with your father.”

“Perhaps he would say nothing.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “Of course he would say something. He would consider it unrighteous not to. He is so holy that he cannot give a woman a chance to defend herself. People like him love to find sin in others. They are so eager to find it that they see it where it does not exist. It makes them feel even more good … thanking God they are not like other men.”

“Oh, Lilias, it is going to be so miserable without you. I wish I had never seen that necklace.”

“I should have stood up for myself. I should never have allowed myself to be accused of something of which I am completely innocent. I should have dared him to prove it.”

“Oh, Lilias, why didn’t you?”

“It could have been even worse. He didn’t believe me. Perhaps others wouldn’t. If he had called in the police … people would have known. The disgrace would have been terrible … for my father. I could see that I had to get away …”

“You must write to me, Lilias. Give me your address. You did tell me, but I want it written down. I’m going to find out who took the necklace out of my room and put it in yours. I know someone did. Perhaps it was Hamish.”

“Why? Just because he was caught with Kitty? This isn’t the same thing. I could understand his stealing the necklace, but if he had done so he would want to sell it right away. There isn’t any reason why he should try to incriminate me.”

“Perhaps he wanted revenge. Had you done something he didn’t like?”

“I hardly know him. He never even looks at me.”

“Someone must have done it. What about Ellen?”

“Why? What would be the point?”

“Whichever way you look at it, there seems to be no reason.”

“Thank you, Davina, for your trust. I shall never forget it.”

“Oh, Lilias. It’s what I’ve dreaded … your going away. Though … I never thought it would be like this.”

“Write to me and I’ll write to you. I’ll let you know what happens.”

“At least you have your family to go to. They’ll be kind and understanding.”

“They will believe in my innocence. They will never believe that I could be a thief.”

Mrs. Kirkwell came in. She looked grim and resolute.

“Miss Davina!” she said reprovingly, surprised, I supposed, to find me there.

“I think this is a great mistake,” I said.

Mrs. Kirkwell ignored that and said: “What about this packing? I see you haven’t begun yet.”

I went back to my room. I thought of all that had happened in a short time: my mother’s death, Kitty’s misdemeanour which had resulted in her dismissal—and now Lilias.

How
DREARY
the house was without her. She had been my special friend for so long, and I had known that I would miss her; what I had not realised was how much. I felt very melancholy.

A few days after Lilias had left, my father sent for me. He was in his study, unsmiling and forbidding.

“I wanted to speak to you, Davina,” he said. “It is about a governess.”

I stared at him. For the moment I thought he had discovered the real thief and let myself fancy that Lilias was coming back.

“You are not yet fully educated,” he went on. “I had considered the idea of sending you away to a finishing school, but I have decided against that. So there will be a governess.”

“A new governess, but …”

He looked at me with faint exasperation.

“A new one, of course. I myself will make sure that this time I engage someone who is reliable and is not going to shock us all by stealing our property.”

I flushed and began: “I do not believe …”

He went on as though I had not spoken: “This one will be able to teach a great deal you should know. Deportment, good manners. It will not be so much a schoolroom governess as someone who will be able to equip you with social graces.”