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Authors: Patricia Wentworth

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The Gazebo (18 page)

BOOK: The Gazebo
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TWENTY-EIGHT

MISS SILVER OPENED the door to Detective Inspector Frank Abbott next morning and took him into the dining-room, where she settled herself in one of the two armchairs belonging to the set round the table and took her knitting out of its flowered chintz bag. The second vest intended for little Tina was now approaching completion. Frank looked at it, raised a colourless eyebrow, and said,

‘How many million stitches do you suppose you knit in a year?’

She smiled.

‘I must confess that I have never given the matter any attention.’

‘You should do so. It may run into billions. What a lot of dressing-up the human young require!’

She allowed her eye to travel over his immaculate suit, the harmony of tie, handkerchief and socks, the elegant cut of the shoes, before replying.

‘Not, I think, only the very young, my dear Frank.’

He laughed.

‘One endeavours to keep the end up. I am rewarded by being constantly told that I don’t look like a policeman. Which is sometimes extremely useful. Well, what have you got for me?’

She was knitting busily.

‘Nicholas Carey has left Grove Hill House.’

Frank leaned back as far as it is possible to lean in a dining-room chair. He had turned it sideways so as to be able to stretch out his long legs. He had rather a languid air which might be accounted for by the fact that the attractive cousin’s party had been kept up until very late. He said in a voice that matched his attitude,

‘He notified us to that effect.’

Miss Silver continued.

‘He was here for some time after tea yesterday, which gave me an opportunity of calling upon the Miss Pimms.’

‘My dear ma’am!’

‘I found it both interesting and instructive. They were extremely pleased to see me, and they imparted a great deal of information.’

‘Which I suppose you are going to impart to me.’

Miss Silver proceeded to impart as much of the Miss Pimms’ conversation as she considered relevant. Before she had really finished she found him looking at her with a touch of malice.

‘And what am I supposed to make of the fact that Mrs Harrison is a little too highly coloured for Grove Hill society, and that the Miss Pimms accuse her of having, shall I say, a come-hither in her eye when abroad and an inflammable temper at home? Dr Hamilton and the curate at St Jude’s don’t seem to me to have very much to do with the murder of Mrs Graham.’

Her glance reproved him. He was reminded of her scholastic experience. He had spoken out of turn.

Without further comment she proceeded with her narration and repeated Lily Pimm’s artless tale about the lost stone in Mrs Harrison’s diamond ring. That it did not impress him she was instantly aware. He looked at her quizzically.

‘And what am I supposed to make of that?’

Still knitting, she said without emphasis,

‘I have found the stone.’

He sat up with a jerk.

‘You have what!’

She loosened some strands from the pink ball in her knitting-bag.

‘I have found what I believe to be the lost stone from Mrs Harrison’s ring.’

‘And I am supposed to ask you where you found it?’

She said soberly,

‘I found it within a yard of where Mrs Graham’s body was found.’

‘What!’

She had no reason to complain of a lack of interest now. His cold blue eyes were intent. She said,

‘I cannot undertake to explain what prompted me to make a particular search of the gazebo. I knew that the local police would have been most thorough in their investigation.’

‘They don’t seem to have been quite thorough enough.’

‘I do not believe that you must blame them. Their search was of a general character. It had no particular objective.’

‘And yours had?’

She said simply, ‘I could not get that missing stone out of my mind.’

‘Where did you find it?’

‘There is a crack between the door-sill and the wooden floor of the gazebo. The stone had rolled into this crack. When the floor was swept fresh dust was deposited and the diamond covered.’

‘And how did you uncover it?’

‘I poked in the crack with a hairpin.’

He was gazing at her in a fascinated manner.

‘You poked in the crack. With a hairpin. That makes everything perfectly clear!’

She stopped knitting for a moment, dipped into the chintz bag, and produced a small cardboard box. Putting it down on the table, she pushed it over to him.

‘The diamond is inside, done up in tissue paper. I believe that it may be found to fit Mrs Harrison’s ring. If so, one cannot escape the conclusion that she was in the gazebo at some time after leaving the house of some people called Reckits, where she was playing bridge on the Tuesday evening. Lily Pimm who is, I believe, an entirely accurate witness was also at the party. She takes a particular interest in Mrs Harrison’s jewellery, and she says that she counted the diamonds – three in a diamond and sapphire ring, three in a ruby and diamond ring, three in a ring with two pearls in it, and five in a ring that was all diamonds. On Wednesday morning in the bus, when Mrs Harrison took off her glove in order to find some change, Lily Pimm noticed at once that there was one stone missing from the five-stone diamond ring.’

‘It could have dropped anywhere. Look here, if it had been missing when she put the ring on in the morning…’

‘Lily Pimm made the same remark, to which Mrs Harrison replied that she hadn’t put it on because she never took it off, adding that it was rather loose for her and apt to slip round on her finger, so that she might not notice that a stone had gone.’

He was frowning a little.

‘I still say that the stone might have dropped anywhere.’

‘If this stone fits Mrs Harrison’s ring – if it matches the other stones…’

He said a thought impatiently,

‘Is there anything special about it?’

‘I am not an expert. It is a fine large stone and of a good colour.’

He opened the cardboard box, took out the twist of tissue paper, and unfolded it carefully. The diamond slid down upon the polished table and shone there like a dewdrop.

Frank whistled softly.

‘It’s certainly a sizable stone, and very bright. Five like this in a row would be a bit overpowering, I should think.’

‘Lily Pimm said the ring was a valuable one. Someone in Mr Harrison’s family had brought the stones from India. Mr Harrison had them re-set as a wedding-present for his wife.’

He said in a meditative voice,

‘If the stone fits and matches the others, then Mrs Harrison will have to explain what she was doing in the gazebo between whenever it was she left her bridge party on Tuesday evening and… When did Lily go down in the bus with her on Wednesday morning?’

‘They caught the ten o’clock bus from this corner.’

He was sitting up straight enough now. He said as if he was thinking aloud,

‘If she dropped the stone in the gazebo – what took her there? I suppose…’ He broke off. ‘Do you happen to know whether she was here at all that evening? She was friendly with Mrs Graham – she might have dropped in to see her after the bridge party.’

‘No, Frank, she did not do that. It was some days since she had been to the house, and even if she had looked in as you suggest, I am unable to think of any possible reason why she should have gone up the garden to the gazebo.’

His shoulder lifted for a moment.

‘If this stone fell out of her ring in the gazebo, then whatever her motive was, she did go there. Is Miss Graham quite sure that Mrs Harrison did not look in on the Tuesday evening?’

‘She is perfectly sure.’

He picked up the diamond, wrapped it, and put it in the cardboard box. When the box had gone into his waistcoat pocket, he pushed back his chair and got up.

‘This is where I go and see Mrs Harrison and ask her what she was doing in the gazebo between Tuesday’s bridge party and Wednesday’s meeting with Lily Pimm on the ten o’clock bus.’

Miss Silver laid her knitting down upon her knee, but she did not rise.

‘Just a moment, Frank. There is something else which I think you ought to know.’

‘Another rabbit?’

She took no notice of this levity, but said,

‘It may, or may not, have a serious connexion with what I have been telling you.’

He sat down again.

‘What is it?’

‘It comes to me through Althea Graham. If she had not been in so distressed a state as completely to break down her self-control, she would not have repeated it.’

‘Oh, she was repeating something?’

She inclined her head.

‘I told you that Nicholas Carey had been here. They were together for some time, and after hearing from her about Mrs Traill’s evidence he seems to have arrived at the conclusion that his arrest was likely to follow. She was naturally very much overcome. Up to now she has maintained a wonderful degree of composure, but when Mr Carey had gone she broke down. In these circumstances she repeated something which I feel may be of the first importance. Mr Carey seems to have told her that Mrs Harrison had offered to give him an alibi, but that he had refused to let her do so. It appears she was prepared to state that he was back in Grove Hill House by eleven o’clock, and that they remained together for some considerable time after that. Miss Graham became more and more distressed while she was telling me this. I formed the opinion that whereas Mr Carey had told her very little about the details of his interview with Mrs Harrison, she had guessed a good deal more than she had been told, and was convinced that the proffered alibi would compromise Mr Carey in other ways. She said repeatedly that he would not do anything that would hurt his cousin – Mr Harrison is a cousin.’

Frank Abbott cocked an eyebrow.

‘The stock compromising situation – “He couldn’t have done it, because he was with me”! But you know, she has already said that she has no idea when Carey got in.’

Miss Silver picked up her knitting again. The busy needles clicked.

‘She is apparently prepared to unsay it. Mr Carey is refusing her offer, and Althea Graham is torn between the feeling that his alibi may save him from arrest and her natural disinclination to allow him to appear in the character of Mrs Harrison’s illicit lover.’

Frank nodded.

‘Quite a pretty kettle of fish, as you were no doubt about to remark.’

Miss Silver said,

‘It occurs to me, as it no doubt does to you, that Mrs Harrison’s motives should be subjected to the closest examination. It is, of course, possible that she is so much attached to Mr Carey as to be prepared to risk disgrace and a divorce in order to protect him.’

Frank looked at her quizzically.

‘From the tone of your voice I do not gather that this explanation appeals to you.’

She was knitting rapidly.

‘No, Frank, it does not. From what I have heard of her there are other considerations which should be taken into account. She is dissatisfied with her marriage – especially since Mr Harrison has had losses. She finds life in Grove Hill dull, and has shown considerable readiness to embark upon flirtations with other men. Mr Carey is attractive and has recently inherited a considerable fortune. If she gave evidence which would clear him in a murder case but which left her compromised on his account, she would no doubt expect him to marry her should her husband sue for a divorce. This would put Mr Carey in an extremely difficult position.’

‘How much of this did he really tell Althea Graham?’

‘I do not know. I suspect very little more than the fact that she was willing to give him an alibi.’

‘You mean she is dotting the i’s and crossing the’t’s herself?’

‘I think so. She does not like Mrs Harrison, and she is in love with Nicholas Carey.’

He nodded.

‘Very sharpening to the intelligence.’

‘There is one more point, Frank, and I believe a most important one. An alibi for Mr Carey would also be an alibi for Mrs Harrison.’

TWENTY-NINE

GROVE HILL HOUSE was well staffed, though none of the staff slept in. The parlourmaid who opened the door to Detective Inspector Abbott and Detective Inspector Sharp had been in very good service before her marriage. Now that she was a widow she had gone back to the work for which she had been trained. Her two children were in their teens and her mother lived with her, so that the arrangement worked smoothly enough. She got good wages and all her meals. She could say that for Mrs Harrison, there was always plenty in the house and you could help yourself. Of course it wasn’t like working for a real lady, but the money was good, and Mr Harrison was a nice quiet gentleman if ever there was one. She showed the two policemen into the drawing-room and went to tell Mrs Harrison.

Ella Harrison took her time. When she came into the drawing-room Frank Abbott was immediately aware that there had been a fresh application of powder and lipstick. He has been credited with more cousins than anyone in England, and as the usual proportion of these were female and young, there was very little he did not know about the gentle art of making up. His standards were of necessity a good deal more indulgent than those of the Miss Pimms, but he certainly thought that Mrs Harrison should exercise greater restraint. Her hair, even if the colour were natural, would be on the noticeable side, and natural it certainly was not. Combined with mascara, eyeshadow and a particularly vivid lipstick, it was altogether too much of a good thing. She might have carried it off in black, or brown, or navy, but not, definitely not, in a plaid skirt and a twin set in a lively shade of emerald. It was his first meeting with her, Sharp having made the original inquiries to check up on Nicholas Carey’s movements. On that occasion both she and Jack Harrison had replied that they had gone to bed early, and that they had no idea of the time of Carey’s return. Since none of the staff slept in the house, that appeared to be that.

They were now here on a totally different errand. The lady was said to have an inflammable temper. Rumours as to some of its more violent manifestations had not been wanting. The story of the broken mirror had reached Detective Inspector Sharp. He hoped that there wasn’t going to be any unpleasantness.

Ella Harrison did not offer to shake hands. She did not even ask them to sit down. Frank Abbott thought they might have been travelling salesmen whom she had no wish to encourage. Yet she had taken the trouble to touch up her face. Sharp looked at him, and he took the lead.

‘Mrs Harrison, we have called in connexion with the loss of a stone from a diamond ring. You have recently lost such a stone, have you not?’

She looked from one to the other.

‘Why, yes – how did you know? I haven’t reported it.’

He said easily,

‘These things get about. The fact is a stone has been found. If it is the one you have missed from your ring you might be able to identify it.’

‘If it is mine I should be very glad to get it back.’

‘Perhaps you will let us see the ring. You are not wearing it?’

There was the ruby and diamond ring which had been mentioned on her left hand, with a less valuable pearl and diamond ring above it. On her right hand there was one ring only, sapphires and diamonds.

She said, ‘No – I thought the other stones might be loose,’ and went out of the room.

There was some strain, some tension – she wasn’t easy. She came back with the ring.

There was a small table standing in the window. It was an old piece with a walnut top and a wreath of flowers inlaid about the edge. They were very beautifully worked in different coloured woods. The centre of the table was plain. When she came back into the room with the ring in her hand the lost diamond lay on the table, right in the middle where the dark wood showed it up. Frank Abbott put out his hand for the ring, and she let him have it. He picked up the stone and fitted it back into the place from which it had come. There could be no doubt that it was the place from which it had come. The stones were very fine. They were of an equal size, an equal lustre. They could hardly have been better matched. Frank Abbott said,

‘I am afraid I shall have to ask you to let us take charge of the ring. I will give you a receipt for it.’ He was putting it away as he spoke in the cardboard box which had held the stone.

Mrs Harrison’s colour had risen. She said,

‘Here, what do you want with that ring? It’s mine, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, we’re not disputing that. The ring and the stone are both undoubtedly yours. By the way, have you any idea where you dropped that diamond?’

‘Not the slightest. Where was it found?’

Detective Inspector Sharp stood by, and was glad that he had not had to come alone. Abbott was answering her in that la-di-da way he had.

‘We were rather hoping that you might have something to tell us about that.’

‘Well, I haven’t.’

He let her have it then, short and sharp.

‘It was found in the gazebo at The Lodge.’

It was a blow – you could see that. She blinked the way a man does when he has been hit. It was a blow and it rocked her, but she got herself in hand again. She said in a sharp, steady voice,

‘In the gazebo at the Grahams’? I don’t see…’

‘No? Well, that is where it was found. Perhaps you can tell us when you were last there.’

She was recovering.

‘Oh, I don’t know… I’m often at The Lodge… I play bridge there.’

Frank’s eyebrows rose.

‘In the gazebo?’

‘Of course not! But we don’t play till after tea – I might have gone up to look at the view.’

‘Can you remember that you did so?’

‘Not specially. We were in the garden one day last week – it might have been then.’

‘Mrs Harrison, Miss Lily Pimm states that there was no stone missing from your ring on Tuesday evening when you were playing bridge at the house of some people named Reckitts.’

She gave an exasperated laugh.

‘Oh, Lily Pimm – if you’re going to take what she says!’

‘Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?’

Her foot tapped the carpet.

‘Only that she’s barmy – that’s all.’

‘She appears to be an exact and accurate observer. She told us that she admires your rings very much and always notices them. She is positive that on Tuesday all the stones were present in the five-stone diamond ring. When she met you next day on the ten o’clock bus and you took off your glove to find some change for the fare she noticed at once that one of the stones was missing. She says she pointed this out to you, and you were very much upset and said you didn’t know that the stone was gone.’

The colour which Ella Harrison had applied was reinforced by an angry flush.

‘Of course I knew it was gone! It had been missing for days!’

‘And you continued to wear the ring?’

‘I always wear it!’

‘It didn’t occur to you that the other stones might be loose?’

‘No, it didn’t!’

‘But you told us just now that it was for this reason that you were not wearing the ring.’

Her eyes were bright with anger.

‘I didn’t think of it at first, and then I did! Any objection to that?’

‘When did you first notice that the stone was gone?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Think carefully, Mrs Harrison. This seems to be a valuable ring. Since you wear it always, it must be valuable to you. When you discovered that one of the stones was missing you would naturally be upset.’

‘Anyone would be!’

‘I quite agree with you. It is an unpleasant thing to happen. You would naturally speak about it to your maid – ask her to look for it very carefully in case it had dropped in the house.’

‘Well, I didn’t!’

Her foot was tapping again. If he would only stop these questions and give her time to think. He didn’t give her a moment. He went on,

‘It would seem to have been the natural thing to do.’

‘Well then, it wasn’t! I knew I hadn’t dropped it in the house.’

‘May I ask how you knew that?’

She had to make up her mind quickly. When you hadn’t time to think you had to do what you could and chance your luck. She said,

‘Because I knew the ring was all right when I went out.’

‘Oh, you have remembered which day you missed the stone?’

She said smoothly,

‘It must have been the last time I went to the Grahams’, if that was where it was found.’

Frank said, ‘Yes,’ and gave it a moment to sink in before he went on, ‘The last time you went to the Grahams’ – that would be on Tuesday after the bridge party at the Reckitts’?’

‘What are you trying to make me say? I wasn’t anywhere near them on Tuesday evening! It was the week before – Wednesday or Thursday, I don’t remember which. I was there to tea, and Mrs Graham took me into the garden afterwards to show me some plant or other.’

‘Who else was there?’

‘No one. It was just Mrs Graham and me.’

‘I thought you said you played bridge after tea.’

‘I couldn’t have. There wasn’t anyone to play with – even Thea was out. We were in the garden.’

‘Did you say you went up into the gazebo?’

‘Yes, I did. Mrs Graham wanted me to see the view.’

‘She didn’t go with you?’

‘No.’

‘And when you came home and discovered that a stone out of your ring was missing you would naturally make inquiries as to whether you had dropped it at the Grahams’?’

She met his searching look with a hardy one.

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Curious that Mrs Graham should not have mentioned the fact to her daughter.’

‘I suppose she forgot. She wasn’t really interested in anything that didn’t happen to herself.’

‘You didn’t mention the loss of the stone to your maid, and Mrs Graham didn’t mention it to her daughter. Quite a coincidence, isn’t it? I suppose you mentioned the loss to your husband?’

If Jack had been out – if she could have been certain of the opportunity of telling him what to say – but he was in the study – she couldn’t be certain of anything. She took the next best chance and said,

‘I didn’t want him to know. It’s a ring from his side of the family. He gave it to me when we were married.’

Frank thought, ‘She’s lying all along the line.’ Out loud he said,

‘You are quite sure about these dates, Mrs Harrison?’

‘I’m not sure whether it was Wednesday or Thursday when I went to the Grahams’ – Wednesday or Thursday last week.’

‘But you are sure that it was last week?’

‘Quite sure.’

‘And that that was when you lost the stone out of your ring?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mrs Harrison, Miss Pimm is extremely definite in stating that she saw that ring on your right hand at the Reckitts bridge party, and that all the stones were there. She says she counted them.’

Ella Harrison’s blazing anger broke. Her furious voice leapt at them.

‘Then she’s a damned liar as well as a damned fool! Anyone – anyone with a grain of sense could see what she and her sisters are – spiteful old maids with nothing to do but gather up gossip and peddle it round to a lot of credulous nitwits who don’t know any better than to lap it up! Just try putting your Lily Pimm in the box and see what kind of shape she’d be in by the time a lawyer had finished with her! You just try it!’

There were a number of unprintable words in this speech. Some shocked Inspector Sharp a good deal, coming from a lady in Mrs Harrison’s position. In court he might have characterized them as obscene. In his own mind he set them down as low. He really wondered where she had picked them up.

Frank Abbott, waiting until she was done, saw the door open behind her and Mr Harrison come into the room – a small quiet man with greying hair and a patient look about the eyes. He said, ‘What is the matter?’ and Ella Harrison whirled round upon him.

‘I’m being insulted, that’s what! A pretty state of things when the police come tramping into your drawing-room without a with your leave or by your leave and insult you!’ She swung back again.

‘Perhaps you’ll be a bit more careful what you say now my husband’s here – bursting in and calling me a liar in my own house!’

Jack Harrison stood where he was. He had a certain half bewildered dignity as he said,

‘Perhaps someone will tell me what is going on.’

Frank Abbott told him quietly and succinctly. The air of bewilderment deepened.

‘A stone from my wife’s ring – in the gazebo at The Lodge? Are you sure there is no mistake? But she was wearing the ring on Tuesday evening – I saw it myself. There was no stone missing then.’

The fool – the immeasurable fool! Just for a moment she couldn’t think – speak – move.

Frank Abbott said,

‘Are you sure about that?’

Jack Harrison said, ‘Oh, yes.’ He was neither quick nor clever. He found the situation confusing. His wife’s anger daunted him. He steadied himself on the plain question of fact. Ella couldn’t have dropped a stone out of her ring last week, because she was wearing it at the Reckitts’ on Tuesday. He said so, repeating himself as he was rather inclined to do.

‘Oh, yes, it was all right when we were at the Reckitts’. We were playing at the same table for part of the time. It’s a beautiful ring, and I noticed it particularly. The stones came from Golconda. A great-uncle of mine brought them home and had them cut. They are well matched. They were certainly all there on Tuesday.’

Ella Harrison had been going back step by step.

It was a purely instinctive movement. In a moment she would think of something to say, to do. The moment wasn’t yet. She would have to wait for it. She went back until the fireplace brought her up short. There was a Sèvres jar in the middle of the mantelpiece with a delicate china figure on either side of it. Eighteenth-century figures – a lady in a hooped skirt with powdered hair, a gentleman in a brocaded coat with red heels to his shoes. She picked up the lady by her slender neck and slung her at Jack Harrison.

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