Behold Here's Poison (15 page)

'What did I tell you?' whispered Sergeant Hemingway to the Superintendent.

Mrs Lupton sat down amid a general feeling of disappointment. People eyed the rest of the Matthews family, wondering which of them would next be called. The Coroner said something to the Clerk, and Superintendent Hannasyde finally annihilated all hope in the breasts of the curious by getting up and asking for an adjournment pending police inquiries. This was granted, and there was nothing left for the disgusted spectators to do except go home, and indulge their imaginations in a good deal of fruitless surmise.

Owen Crewe, threading his way out of the court-room in the wake of his wife, said into her ear: 'I told you you were wasting your time,' and began to feel much more amiable, and forbore to snub Janet when she squeezed her way up to him and announced that she was so thankful nothing more had happened. Once outside the building he firmly declined an invitation to lunch with his mother-in-law, told his wife that while she might do as she pleased he had every intention of returning to town, and walked off purposefully to where he had parked his car. Agnes would have liked to have talked it all over with her mother, but as her ideal of matrimony was founded largely on the theory that wives should whenever possible accompany their husbands, she bade her family a regretful farewell and went dutifully away with Owen.

Miss Matthews, who had attended the Inquest armed with a shopping-basket and a list of groceries, darted off in the direction of the High Street; and Mrs Matthews, leaning slightly on her son's arm, smiled wanly on those of her acquaintance whom she happened to notice, and proclaimed her utter spiritual exhaustion. 'I feel,' she said in a solemn voice, 'that I must have just a little interval of quiet. Stella dear, I wonder if you can see Pullen anywhere?'

'Yes, he's waiting on the other side of the square,' said Stella.

'Tell him to bring the car here, dearest. Oh, he has seen us!' She turned to bestow one expensively gloved hand on Edward Rumbold. 'I haven't thanked you for coming,' she said deeply.. 'I think you know what we feel. To know that one had a friend at one's side during that terrible ordeal—! Is it foolish of me to be so sensitive? To me it was an agony of the spirit. All those hundreds of eyes, fixed on one!' She shuddered, held Mr Rumbold's hand an instant longer, and then released it. 'If only one could feel that one had left all the unpleasantness behind in that stuffy court!'

'You must try not to let it upset you,' said Edward Rumbold kindly. 'Of course it's all very distressing for you, and we're very sorry about it.'

She gave a faint, brave smile. 'I can't talk of it now,' she said. 'When I have had time to collect my thoughts… Will you come in and see us a little later on? At teatime, perhaps?'

'Yes, I'll come if you want me, of course,' he replied. 'But —'

'Oh, do!' said Stella suddenly. 'It's too ghastly when there's no one but Family in the house.'

He could not help laughing. 'After that highly flattering invitation, how could I refuse?' he said teasingly.

'Well, I didn't mean it quite like that,' she admitted. 'And of course you'll bring Mrs Rumbold too.'

'Darling,' said Mrs Matthews reproachfully, 'that goes without saying, as Mr Rumbold knows.'

Whether Mr Rumbold knew it or not, he did not bring his wife to tea at the Poplars, but explained to Stella, who met him half-way down the drive, that she had another engagement.

'I don't blame her,' said Stella candidly. 'Ours is a Godforsaken household. And to make things worse we've been fending off reporters all day. They've been simply clustering about the place, and of course Mother let herself be interviewed, so God knows what we shall see in the papers tomorrow.'

'Nonsense, you're letting yourself feel all this too much, Stella.'

'I can't help it,' she replied, falling into step beside him. 'It has absolutely got me down. Oh well, you pretty well know, don't you? It isn't only uncle's death: it's Aunt Harriet as well. I don't hold any brief for Mummy —'

'Then you should,' interposed Rumbold.

'Well, I know perfectly well she can be most frightfully annoying,' said Stella defensively. 'But actually what I was going to say when you most rudely interrupted me was that though I don't hold any brief for Mummy I do think Aunt Harriet is treating her awfully badly. She does every blessed thing she can think of to put a spoke in Mummy's wheel, and if Mummy so much as moves a table half an inch out of its usual place she kicks up a row, and says she ought to have been consulted.'

Edward Rumbold was silent for a moment, but he said presently: 'I shouldn't let that worry me too much, if I were you. Both your mother and your aunt are very much on edge, and—well, they are both of them disappointed at not being left in sole possession of the house, aren't they?'

The twinkle in his eyes was reflected in Stella's. 'I should think they jolly well are!' she said.

'Yes, well, you must give them time to get over that,' he advised. 'You'll probably find that they'll settle down quite comfortably in the end.'

'I hope they may,' said Stella. 'I only know that I'm definitely not going to go on living here as things are at present. Aunt Harriet's all right with Guy, but she doesn't like me, and doesn't leave me alone for a minute. Everything I do is bound to be wrong. I told Mummy last night I couldn't stick it much longer.'

He looked concerned, but said cheerfully: 'Well, you won't have to, will you? When are you going to get married?'

She did not answer at once, and when she did it was in a studiedly offhand tone. 'Oh, not for a year, anyway! We never meant to get married this year, you know, and now that all this has happened we both think we ought to put it off at least till everything's been cleared up and I'm out of mourning.'

He took hold of her wrist, and made her stand still. 'My dear child, there's nothing wrong, is there?'

'Oh, good lord, no!' said Stella. 'As a matter of fact, it was my idea that we'd better wait a bit. I practically insisted on it, because there's Deryk's practice to be considered, and—and if we've got a murderer in the family he might like to think twice about marrying into it.'

'Not if he's a decent chap,' Rumbold said.

'Well, naturally, he didn't say that. But he does quite agree with me about not plunging into marriage until things have blown over. What I want to do is to share a tiny flat with a girl I knew at school. She's taken up dressdesigning, and I thought I might get some sort of a job too. Do you think I'd be any good as a mannequin?'

'No, I don't,' he replied. 'What does your mother say about it?'

'Oh, she's against it, of course, but I expect she'll come round to it in time. She had to admit that it's pretty (rightful at home now, but I got fed-up, because she would keep on moaning about it's being far worse for her than for Guy and me.'

They had reached the house by this time, and were met in the hall by Miss Matthews, who greeted Mr Rumbold effusively, and bore him off to the drawing-room, so that she could have a little talk with him alone, before her sister-in-law came downstairs from her room.

This scheme, however, was doomed to failure, because Mrs Matthews had elected to curtail her afternoon rest, and was already seated on the sofa in the drawing-room, with a small piece of fancy-work in her hands, and a cigarette burning in an ash-tray beside her.

Miss Matthews, thoroughly put out, at once exclaimed that the room reeked of smoke, and rushed to open all the windows. Mrs Matthews paid not the slightest heed to this act of hostility, but rose and shook hands with Edward Rumbold, and invited him to sit beside her on the sofa.

The door then opened to admit Beecher, carrying the tea-tray, and as there was a sharp wind blowing, the window-curtains all flapped inwards, a vase of flowers was knocked over, and the butler was only just in time to save the door from slamming-to behind him. This misadventure forced Miss Matthews to shut the windows again, which annoyed her, and by the time the water from the flower vase had been mopped up, the vase restored to its place, and Guy had walked in and demanded to know what all the commotion was about, her temper had reached a dangerous pitch, and even vented itself on Guy, who was usually immune from attack.

It was at this quite inauspicious moment that the door opened again, and Randall, looking like a symphony in brown, came languidly into the room.

Chapter Eight

To the outside observer the effect caused by Randall's entrance could not be anything but comic. Mr Edward Rumbold, after one swift glance round the assembled company, became afflicted suddenly by a cough which made it necessary to shade his mouth with his hand for several moments. Mrs Matthews' sweet smile vanished abruptly; Miss Matthews broke off short in the middle of what she was saying and glared at Randall; and Guy said: 'Oh, God!' as though his endurance was at an end.

Randall looked round with a glint in his eyes, and said affably: 'How nice it is to see you all looking so happy and comfortable!'

'What the devil do you want?' said Guy disagreeably.

'Guy dearest!' said his mother, mildly reproving.

'Ah, how do you do?' said Randall, shaking hands with Edward Rumbold. 'I'm quite delighted to see you. I was afraid I should find unadulterated family. Do not trouble to ring the bell, dear Aunt Harriet: Beecher knows I am here.'

'I wasn't going to!' said Miss Matthews, quivering with annoyance. 'I'm sure I don't know why you've elected to come here. I noticed that you didn't trouble yourself to come to the Inquest.'

'No, I thought it would be much kinder to let you tell me all about it,' said Randall, drawing up a chair, and carefully hitching up his trousers before sitting down in it.

'I don't want to discuss it in any way, least of all with you!' snapped Miss Matthews.

'Really?' said Randall incredulously. 'And to think I nearly refrained from visiting you today for fear I should find you all talking about the Inquest in that peculiarly reiterative way you have!'

'If you had one spark of decent feeling, Randall, you would have been present at the Inquest!' said Miss Matthews, moving the cups about with a good deal of clatter. 'Not that I expected it. I've given up expecting you to behave in anything but a thoroughly selfish manner. Just like your uncle! Though you're not the only person I could mention who thinks of no one but themselves. I name no names, but those whom the cap fits can wear it,' she added darkly.

Mrs Matthews intervened at this point, and said in a grave voice: 'Isn't this a little undignified? When one thinks that only a week ago Death visited this house, doesn't it seem to you that we should all of us try to turn our minds away from petty squabbles to something higher and better?'

Guy made an impatient movement, and strode away to the window, and stood with his back to the room, fidgeting with the blind-cord.

'Certainly, my dear aunt!' said Randall, who had listened to her with an air of courteous interest. 'Let us by all means try! But you must suggest the subject. No one else is nearly so fit.'

'I think each one of us could think of something if we tried,' said Mrs Matthews gently. 'Even you, Randall.'

'I can tell you a story about a golfer who went to Heaven,' said Randall, 'but I'm afraid that exhausts my repertoire of higher and better things.'

'If you are trying to shock me, Randall, I can only ;fissure you that I am not shocked, but only very sad to think that you can joke about things which to me are sacred.'

'Aunt Zoë,' said Randall, 'you never disappoint me.'

Edward Rumbold felt that it was time to intervene. He said: 'The younger generation are most of them distressingly irreverent, Mrs Matthews. I met a "sweet young thing" the other day who propounded the most startling views on the Christian religion!' He drifted easily into anecdote, and succeeded in diverting not only Mrs Matthews, but Harriet Matthews as well.

Guy came away from the window as Mr Rumbold's story ended, and began to hand round the tea-cups. Stella entered the room almost immediately, nodded to Randall, and sat down on a floor-cushion by her mother.

Randall regarded her with a pained expression. 'My little love, do you not see that I am present? Have you no exclamation of mingled dismay and loathing to greet me with?'

'I saw your car in the drive, so I knew what to expect,' retorted Stella. 'I suppose you've come to hear about the Inquest. The police asked for an adjournment, so we're just where we were before.'

'If they're wise they'll give it up,' said Guy. 'No one'll ever know the truth. Don't you think they'll chuck it fairly soon, Mr Rumbold?'

'I don't know, Guy. It depends how much they've got to go on.'

'They haven't got anything. Aunt Harriet saw to that, said Guy, with a little laugh.

'I'm sure if I'd ever dreamed there was going to be such a fuss made over my clearing up poor Gregory's things I wouldn't have touched one of them!' said Miss Matthews agitatedly. 'Anyone would think I did it on purpose! No one told me I ought not to, and my motto is, If a job has to be done sometime, do it at once! Besides, there wasn't anything that could possibly have had poison in it, as I told the Superintendent. "If you think there's poison in a bottle of iodine and a packet of corn-plaster," I said, "you can take them and see for yourself". '

'And did he take them?' inquired Mr Rumbold.

Miss Matthews sniffed. 'Yes. Such nonsense! I could understand him wanting to take the salts and the liverpills, but I've yet to hear of anyone's drinking iodine. Anyway, I gave him everything I took out of poor Gregory's medicine-chest, and I only hope he's satisfied.'

'But my dear Miss Matthews, what did you do with your brother's personal effects?' asked Rumbold.

'I didn't do anything with them!' she replied hotly. 'I left all his clothes, and his ivory brushes, and his watch and chain, and things tidily put away in his wardrobe! The only things I threw away were things like his sponges, which were no good to anybody. And if the police want to see them I'm extremely sorry, but they went into the boiler with all the rest of the rubbish!'

'I see,' said Rumbold. 'A sort of clean sweep.'

'Well, what was the use of keeping a lot of things no one could ever use?' demanded Miss Matthews. 'Next I suppose I shall be blamed for having the room swept!' .

'My dear, I don't think anyone blames you,' said Mrs Matthews. 'You couldn't know. After all, we none of us dreamed there was any truth in Gertrude's suspicions. And if perhaps you quite unwittingly burned something which contained the poison, do you know I am almost glad? Nothing can bring Gregory back to us, and isn't it better that we should remain in ignorance?'

'We seem to be likely to,' muttered Guy.

Stella was frowning. 'No!' she said. 'If he was poisoned we've got to know who did it. Good God, how could we go on when we know that one of us is a murderer?'

'How dare you, Stella!' gasped her aunt.

'But it's true!' persisted Stella. 'That's what's so ghastly. You don't seem to see it, but can't you realise that if the police don't discover who did it we shall wonder which of us it was all our lives?'

'Morbid rot!' said Guy. 'I'd a lot sooner wonder than have a foul scandal, anyway.'

'Would you?' said Stella, looking up at him with a vague horror in her eyes. 'When it might have been me, or even Mummy?'

'Oh, don't talk such drivel!' said Guy roughly.

Mrs Matthews gave a little laugh, and dropped her hand on to Stella's shoulder. 'My darling, you mustn't let your imagination run away with you quite so fast!'

'But the fact remains that she has spoken nothing but the truth,' said Randall. 'I congratulate you, Stella.'

Mrs Matthews met his look with one very nearly as limpid. 'I'm afraid I can't agree with you, my dear Randall. Stella was speaking in that exaggerated way which I've so often deplored. I hope that she wouldn't suspect her mother or her brother of having committed such a terrible crime any more than I could ever suspect either of my children.'

'I think you are all of you making a mistake,' said Edward Rumbold. 'There's no reason to suppose that Matthews was murdered by any one of you. Are you so sure that there was no one outside his family who could have done it?'

Guy stared at him. 'Who on earth?' he asked bluntly.

'I don't know, but I think that if I were you I would rather believe that it must have been an outsider than make myself ill with quite groundless suspicions of my own people, said Rumbold gently, but with a look that sent the blood rushing to Guy's cheeks.

'I'd rather have it cleared up,' said Stella decidedly.

Rumbold said, smiling down at her: 'Well, that's a sure sign you don't really wonder whether your mother or your brother committed the crime,' he said.

'I never heard of such a thing!' said Miss Matthews. 'Oh, you're not going, Mr Rumbold? Why, you've barely finished your tea!'

'He is probably going to supplement it elsewhere,' remarked Randall. 'And I'm sure I don't blame him,' he added, casting a glance at the somewhat meagrely furnished cake-stand. 'There is a certain Lenten spirit clinging to my dear Aunt Harriet's tea-parties which only the few know how to appreciate.'

Stella gave a giggle, and even Mrs Matthews bit her lip. Harriet Matthews sat bolt upright in her chair, and said: 'I did not ask you to tea here, Randall, and I did not ask Mr Rumbold either, though I am always glad to see Trim, as I hope he knows. And if he finds my tea insufficient —'

'Thank you, thank you, but I have had an excellent tea!' Rumbold said hastily. 'You know how much I like those little scones of yours, Miss Matthews. I tell my wife she never gives me anything half as good. Now, please don't any of you disturb yourselves! I can find my way out.'

In obedience to a glance from his mother Guy put down his plate and got up. But Randall also had risen, and waved Guy back to his chair. 'Don't lose your chance of the last slice of cake,' he said. 'You, after all, are going to dine here. I will show Mr Rumbold out.' He moved to the door as he spoke, and opened it, and held it for the elder man to pass through.

'There's really no need for you to bother,' said Rumbold, picking up his hat from the hall-table.

'It is a pleasure,' replied Randall. 'The society of my relatives can only be enjoyed with frequent intervals.'

Rumbold looked at him, half in amusement, half in reproof. 'Why do you come if you feel like that?' he asked. 'If you'll forgive my saying so, your presence isn't exactly conducive to peace.'

'No, but don't you think it's nice for them to have someone to vent their feelings on?' said Randall in his most urbane voice. 'They are all of them just a trifle on edge, as you may have noticed.'

'It's an extraordinarily unpleasant situation for them,' replied Rumbold seriously.

Randall strolled with him out of the house. 'Oh, extraordinarily,' he agreed. 'Did anything of interest transpire at the Inquest?'

'Nothing at all. The police asked for an adjournment as soon as Mrs Lupton had given her evidence.'

'Considering all things, that was to be expected,' said Randall. 'I take it that our engaging young doctor figured largely?'

'He was one of the witnesses, yes. I thought he made a very good one.'

'He probably would,' said Randall 'And did everyone seem quite satisfied with his evidence?'

'Quite. There was no reason why they shouldn't be, you know. He's behaved perfectly properly throughout.'

'Yes, I noticed that,' said Randall. 'Not one to lose his head, our ambitious doctor.'

The sneer was thinly veiled. Rumbold hesitated, and then said: 'I won't pretend not to know what you're hinting at, but why do you do it? Have you anything against Fielding?'