The Key (19 page)

‘I will come in on my way home,’ said Miss Silver.

AFTER SPENDING HALF an hour at the Haven Miss Silver took her way home. She had admired Bunty, the raspberries, the henhouse erected by Mr Everton, and the photographs of half a dozen young men in Air Force uniform who corresponded affectionately with Mrs Mottram and took her out when they had leave and she could get to town. Bunty, it appeared, could be parked at the Rectory – ‘Miss Sophy really is an angel, and so are her maids.’ An ugly young man with a grin seemed to be the most assiduous.

Alone with Miss Silver, Ida dropped her giggle and said quite simply, ‘I expect I’m going to marry him. I do like him awfully, and so does Bunty. I’m not awfully good at being on my own – and he was Robin’s best friend.’

Miss Silver administered sympathy and common sense.

‘I am glad that you are not contemplating marriage with someone so much older than yourself as Mr Everton. But you should be careful not to raise false hopes. You are a very attractive young woman.’

The giggle reappeared.

‘Oh, he’s just being kind – but he’s frightfully useful.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Miss Silver, ‘it would be wiser not to have him here in the evenings. It is likely to make talk.’

‘If you lived shut up in a refrigerator, people would talk about you in Bourne,’ said Mrs Mottram.

Miss Silver smiled indulgently.

‘Could Mr Everton not have fixed your wireless in the afternoon, my dear? By the way, which evening was it – Monday or Tuesday?’

‘Oh, Tuesday. He got the valve on Monday, but he wasn’t home till late, and I was carrying on all right so it didn’t matter at all.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘Tuesday evening – dear me! Was he here at the time that Mr Harsch was shot? Did either of you hear anything?’

‘Well, we did – at least Mr Everton did. He thought it was Giles shooting at a fox – they come after his hens., you know.’

‘What time was it?’

‘Well, it must have been a quarter to ten, because that was what Miss Sophy said at the inquest. You know, I was on the jury – it was grim. Oh, yes, and Mr Everton had just looked at his watch, and he made it a quarter to ten too. He said he was expecting a trunk call, so he must run.’

Miss Silver returned to the Rectory in a thoughtful mood. At the gate she encountered Sergeant Abbott and took him into the study. Alone with her, he became very informal indeed.

‘Sit down and listen to this,’ he said – ‘it beats the band.’ After which he produced his shorthand notes and gave her a full and particular account of the interview with Frederick Bush.

When he had finished he looked down at her with something that wasn’t quite a smile and said, ‘Well – how does it strike you?’

He sat on the corner of the study table in a comfortable, careless attitude. An undeniably elegant young man.

Miss Silver regarded him with favour. She said, ‘I should like your opinion first – and of course that of the Chief Inspector.’

The Chief – well, I don’t know – he doesn’t let on much. I don’t think he likes it. Personally, I thought Bush was speaking the truth. I don’t mean to say that with any conviction, because I wasn’t convinced. I just inclined very slightly to the idea that he might be speaking the truth – I wouldn’t put it higher than that. It’s a whale of a story to swallow.’

Miss Silver agreed, but in other words.

‘It presents some difficult points,’ she said. ‘I would be glad of your opinion upon them.’

‘Well, to my mind the worst things about it are, first, nobody saw him go in. He says he usually does his round at ten o’clock, but on that Tuesday night he was “a little before his usual”, and when pressed he said it might be ten minutes before, but he swears he didn’t hear the shot. Harsch was shot at a quarter to ten. Bush must have been no great distance from the main entrance to the churchyard – that’s the one on the village street – but he persists that he heard nothing. I think he persists too much.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘I have questioned Miss Fell, who really did hear the shot, and she says that the church clock was striking at the time. She says she did not remember this when she gave evidence at the inquest. When she was asked about the time, what came into her mind was that she had looked at the drawing-room clock just before she went out.’

‘The church clock was actually striking when the shot was fired?’

‘Yes. There is a chime for each quarter. The shot came with the second chime. The sound of the clock striking would, I imagine, tend to obscure the sound of the shot.’

‘Yes – that’s an idea! But, you see, the first part of Bush’s story – all the meat in fact – is absolutely unsupported. He says he came from his own house – he said his wife was upstairs with her aunt – he says he didn’t meet anyone on the way to the church. There’s no proof that he wasn’t there at half-past nine or any other time before the shot was fired. Of course there’s no proof that he knew Mr Harsch would be there.’

‘The organ stopped just after half-past nine,’ said Miss Silver. ‘And I feel I should tell you what I have learned this evening – Bush was at Miss Doncaster’s on Tuesday evening at about half-past six fixing some shelves. Miss Mary Anne, who is in the habit of listening in on the party line, overheard Mr Harsch’s telephone call to Sir George Rendal acquainting him with the complete success of his final experiment. She repeated the information to Bush, and also, later on, to Mrs Mottram and Mr Everton. She says Bush immediately remarked that in that case Mr Harsch would be down playing the organ that evening. He said Mr Harsch told him he would be down as soon as his work was done.’

Frank whistled.

‘It doesn’t look too good, does it? He knew the experiments had been completed – he knew Rendal was coming down next day – he knew Harsch would be in the church. It’s not fair to blame a man for his birth, but he comes of German stock, and there was an attempt to get at him just before the last war, though apparently he turned it down. Suppose there was another attempt this time, with a bigger inducement, and he didn’t turn it down – it would explain everything, wouldn’t it?’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘It would seem to provide an explanation. Pray continue your remarks on Bush’s statement.’

Frank swung his leg.

‘Well, to my mind the weakest point of the whole thing is his going off and leaving the body in the way he says. I find it uncommon difficult to swallow.’

Miss silver shook her head.

‘Perhaps you have never lived in a village. Village people very much dislike getting mixed up with the police. I find it quite natural that Bush should desire the presence of another witness, and more especially a witness of Mr Harsch’s own social standing.’

‘Well – if you say so—’ His tone deferred to her.

A smile commended him.

She said, ‘The point which tells most in Bush’s favour is one which you do not seem to have remarked. I refer to the key.’

Frank’s eyebrows went up.

‘You mean his putting the key back in Harsch’s pocket? I thought that pretty fishy myself.’

‘Oh, no.’ Miss Silver’s tone was firm. ‘That is an incident which certainly occurred just as he described it. It is not a thing that anyone would invent, and certainly no guilty man would go out of his way to admit it. It is just one of those meaningless but instinctive things that people do when they are under the influence of shock. He had no reason either for inventing or admitting it. I feel quite sure that it happened just as he said.’

‘In other words, you think he is innocent. I wonder. There’s a lot of circumstancial evidence, and it keeps piling up. He left the Bull last night a few minutes before Ezra did – his wife keeps brandy in the house – he has a large and serviceable wheelbarrow in the shed at the bottom of the churchyard – and the dry gravel on Ezra’s boots is the same as the gravel on the church paths. He could have had him into the church, given him a tot of brandy, knocked him out, and taken him across the Green in the wheelbarrow to the place where he was found drowned. There was heavy cloud last night, and Bourne goes to bed early. It piles up, doesn’t it?’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘A man is innocent in law until he has been found guilty by a jury,’ she said.

WHEN SERGEANT ABBOTT had departed Miss Silver glanced at her watch. A quarter to seven! She was afraid Miss Janice Meade – such a charming girl – must have returned to Prior’s End. That poor Miss Madoc could not, of course, be left alone for long. A very sad position for her, poor thing – very sad indeed – but perhaps the clouds would lift.

With these thoughts in her mind she opened the glass door into the garden and looked out. A lovely evening, really very mild, but it would not be so warm later on. As she stood there, the door in the wall was opened and Garth and Janice came through.

Agreeably surprised, Miss Silver went to meet them. She addressed herself to Janice.

‘I was afraid that I would miss you. If it is not too late, I should be glad of a few words with you.’

Whilst she spoke she was aware that something must have occurred between these two young people. It was plain that they walked on air. Janice came back from a long way off to answer her question. With deepened colour she murmured that she was staying to supper.

‘Miss Madoc has an old friend with her. She is staying the night, so I am really not needed. Did you say you wanted to see me?’

‘If you can spare the time,’ said Miss Silver, and carried her off.

When they were in the study and the door was shut, she said, ‘I am afraid this may not be a very good moment, but there is no time to waste. Will you do your best – your very best, my dear – to recall just what Mr Harsch said to you on that Tuesday evening. There may be something that we have missed. There may be something which seemed unimportant at the time, but which might appear significant in the light of what has happened since. Just throw your mind back and tell me everything you can remember.’

Janice looked at her with startled eyes. It was a long way back from the place where she and Garth had been – all the distance between life and death. She felt a little dazed. Perhaps it was because of this that the answer did not meet the question. She said in a stumbling voice,

‘I – don’t – know. Miss Madoc said – but that wasn’t on Tuesday—’

‘What was not on Tuesday?’

‘Something he said to Miss Madoc – but it was on Monday, after he was so late getting back from Marbury. I don’t think I told you.’

‘What was it, Miss Janice?’

‘It sounds silly. I don’t know why I thought of it just now. Miss Madoc told me, and she spoke of it again today – she was telling her friend about it. She thought it was a warning. Mr Harsch came back very late because he had missed the train which connects with the bus, and he had had to walk from the Halt. Miss Madoc said he looked dreadful, and he said he had seen a ghost.’

‘Dear me!’ said Miss Silver mildly. ‘And what did he mean by that?’

‘I don’t know. She didn’t like to ask him, and he didn’t say any more, but she thought he had seen something when he was coming across the fields, and she thought it was a warning.’

‘And did he say nothing to you?’

Janice shook her head.

‘I was working with Mr Madoc. I didn’t really see him till Tuesday evening – not to talk about anything like that.’

‘But on Tuesday evening, when he was talking to you – did he say nothing then?’

Janice sat up straight.

‘I don’t know. – I didn’t think about it… Oh—’

‘You have remembered something?’

‘I don’t know. He said – he was talking about coming over here and making a new life when the old one had been destroyed. He said, “You say such things are dead and buried and the door is shut – you think that it will never open again. And then all at once some day you find it is open and someone standing there like a ghost.” And then he said, “But we will not talk of things like that – it is not good. You may come to fancy something that is not there, and to see your own thoughts. That is not good.” ’

‘What did you think he meant by that?’

Janice looked at her.

‘I thought something had reminded him of the things he didn’t want to remember. I said, “Don’t think about it any more”, and he said, “No – it is not wise – and besides I am not sure.” ’ She clasped her hands and leaned forward. ‘Do you think that something happened when he was in Marbury – something that reminded him?’

Miss Silver said, ‘In Marbury – yes—’ She paused and repeated, ‘In Marbury—’ Then, very quickly, ‘Did he say any more than that?’

‘No, he didn’t.’

‘Did he say anything about Marbury – anything at all to you?’

‘Not after that. But before – oh, when we were having tea, I think it was – I asked how he had got on, and he said, “I missed my train, and so I missed my bus.” I said, “How did you do that?” and he said, “I could not make up my mind. That is a very bad fault. I thought I would have some tea because I was tired and thirsty, so I went into a bad hotel which is called the Ram, and I was no sooner in than I had come out again, and I had forgotten all about my tea and I missed my train.” No, it wasn’t when we were having tea – it was later on, after he had put through his telephone call to Sir George. And then he went on to talk about coming away from Germany. He said it was like shutting a door and you thought it would never open again, but you couldn’t be sure. He repeated that in rather an odd sort of way – “You can’t ever be sure.” ’

Miss Silver sat in silence for a moment. Then she said, ‘Did he mention seeing anyone he knew in Marbury – anyone at all?’

‘He saw Bush – I do know that, though it wasn’t Mr Harsch who told me. It was Mrs Bush. She said Bush had gone over to see his sister who is married to an ironmonger in Ramford Street. She said he saw Mr Harsch, so I suppose Mr Harsch saw him.’

‘Dear me!’ said Miss Silver. ‘And is the Ram in Ramford Street?’

‘Yes, it is – and very nearly opposite the shop. But quite a lot of Bourne people were in Marbury that afternoon. Miss Doncaster went over because someone told her you could get suet there, but she couldn’t find any and she came back frightfully cross. And Mr Everton was over too. As a matter of fact he goes over quite often. They have all the best films, you know, and he is a tremendous fan. But how I know he was there on Monday is that Ida Mottram told me he got a new valve for her wireless.’

‘Yes, she told me that too. And was Mr Madoc also in Marbury?’

Janice looked startled. She said, ‘Oh!’ And then, ‘I don’t know where he was.’

‘You mean that he was not at home?’

Janice went on looking startled.

‘No, he wasn’t. He went out after lunch on his bicycle, and he didn’t come home until well after seven.’

‘And the distance to Marbury is, I believe, no more than twenty miles by road – he could have been there?’

Janice said, ‘I suppose he could.’ And then, ‘But, Miss Silver, none of these people had anything to do with Mr Harsch’s past. I mean, he wouldn’t have called any of them a ghost, would he? He wouldn’t have meant any of them when he talked about an opening door.’

Miss Silver said soberly, ‘No, he wouldn’t have meant any of them. But I think perhaps the door he spoke of opened in the Ram, and it is possible that one of them was there.’