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Authors: Patricia Wentworth

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BOOK: The Ivory Dagger
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CHAPTER XXI

Miss Silver spent a not unprofitable afternoon. Unlike so many country houses, Vineyards was provided with an up-to-date system of heating which kept the whole house at a comfortable temperature. The drawing-room, so spacious, so well proportioned, would have been quite on the chilly side without it. As it was, she was able to enjoy a seat in the sofa corner and get on very well indeed with little Josephine’s vest, whilst encouraging Lady Dryden to talk and receiving a great deal of information about everyone and everything—Lila’s history from the time when her improvident young parents had been killed together in a motor accident—‘And what would have happened to her, I can’t imagine, if my husband hadn’t come forward. They were quite distant cousins, and he was under no obligation to do so, but he was a childless widower at the time, and she was a pretty little thing. There was no legal adoption, but he treated her exactly as if she was his own child. Men are much more sentimental than women—don’t you think so? I am fond of Lila of course, but I couldn’t feel as if she were a child of my own. We were not married until some time later. He really did spoil and indulge her to an absurd extent. I have done my best to counteract it, but it is those early years that count. This marriage would have been the making of her—an older man upon whom she could lean, and complete security so far as money was concerned. I have never known anyone less fitted to struggle with the world than Lila is.’

Miss Silver gave her slight preliminary cough.

‘She was not provided for?’

Lady Dryden made an impatient gesture.

‘Her parents had less than nothing. I believe my husband had to pay off a number of debts. He himself had losses, and he could not do very much. My own income is not what it was.’

Miss Silver pulled thoughtfully at a pale pink ball of wool.

‘Then you were quite satisfied about the marriage?’

‘Indeed I was.’

‘And Miss Lila?’

Lady Dryden drew herself up a little.

‘Ah—you’ve been talking to Ray. You really must not believe all the irresponsible things she says. Because I did not wish Lila to make an extremely foolish marriage with a young man who was not in a position to support her, she has no doubt presented me as a kind of cruel stepmother. Girls have these romantic ideas. But when you see Lila I think you will agree with me that it would be the unkindest thing in the world to allow her to become a poor man’s wife.’

As her needles clicked and the pale pink vest revolved. Miss Silver agreed that romance was not always practicable.

‘In everyday life it requires a great deal of courage and unselfishness if it is to be maintained.’

Lady Dryden considered that this was the kind of thing to which there really isn’t any answer. It did not appear to her to mean anything at all. She said, ‘Oh, yes,’ in a perfunctory way and went on to talk about Eric Haile.

‘One of those charming people who spend a great deal more than their income. Though I don’t think anyone knows what his income is. I should be surprised if he knew himself. I suspect that Herbert subsidized him a good deal.’

‘He has been staying in the house?’

‘Only for the night. He has what he calls a cottage just on the other side of the village. He writes gossipy books about people’s private lives. After they’re dead of course, because there isn’t any law of libel then.’

Miss Silver said mildly,

‘You do not like him?’

Lady Dryden looked down her nose.

‘I have nothing against him in a social capacity. He can be very entertaining. At the moment I think he is taking too much upon himself, and I resent it. This was to have been Lila’s home, and Herbert is no sooner dead than Eric Haile behaves as if the whole place belonged to him.’

‘Is it possible that it does, Lady Dryden?’

‘It can’t be possible. Herbert told me himself a week ago that he was signing his new will.’

‘Did he say when?’

‘Within a day or two—I certainly understood that it would be within a day or two.’

‘Did Mr. Haile know that?’

‘I don’t know. Herbert may have told him, or he may not. I will tell you one thing. They had an interview just before dinner last night Herbert told me that he thought his cousin wanted to borrow money, and when I said I hoped the interview would be pleasanter than he appeared to expect, he laughed and said, “Keep your good wishes for Eric. He’s going to need them”.’

Miss Silver said, ‘Dear me!’

There was a tinge of complacency in Lady Dryden’s voice as she went on.

‘I said that sounded vindictive. He said that was what he was, and he repeated the word. So I don’t think the interview can have been a pleasant one, or that Mr. Haile can have enjoyed it very much.’

Miss Silver looked thoughtful.

‘And when they came in to dinner, did Mr. Haile appear to be upset?’

‘Oh, no. But he wouldn’t—he would never show anything. He has that social manner—no matter what he had in his mind, he would never allow it to show. No matter what it was!’

Miss Silver looked across her knitting with a very serious expression.

‘Just what do you mean by that, Lady Dryden?’

Sybil Dryden rose from her chair and stooped down to put a log on the fire. Her back was towards Miss Silver. All her movements were graceful and controlled. She said,

‘Mean? Oh, just what I said. I always do.’

She came back to her chair, arranged a cushion behind her, and went on smoothly.

‘I think I had better tell you about Miss Whitaker.’

Just before tea Eric Haile came into the room. Lady Dryden at once said that she would go and see how Lila was getting on.

Having remained courteously upon his feet until she had left the room, Mr. Haile sat down in the chair which she had vacated and proceeded to make himself agreeable to Miss Silver. After a few generalities he said with a smile,

‘Charming woman, Lady Dryden. Unfortunately she doesn’t like me.’

Miss Silver wondered what this was going to lead to. She maintained an attentive gaze and continued to knit. There was a brief pause as if he expected her to speak. Then he went on.

‘You must not think me inhospitable if I say that I do not quite understand in what capacity you are here. Naturally, any friend whom Lady Dryden feels would be a comfort or support to herself or to that poor girl is only too welcome. You are a friend of long standing?’

‘No, Mr. Haile.’

‘Then it is a professional engagement? Lady Dryden has mentioned that you were concerned in the recovery of Lady Urtingham’s pearls.’

‘Yes, Mr. Haile.’

He allowed himself to look a little surprised.

‘But in this case there has not been any robbery. Nothing is missing—there are no pearls to be recovered.’

Miss Silver again said, ‘No, Mr. Haile.’

If she was aware of exasperation, it did not interfere with the progress of little Josephine’s vest. She continued to knit smoothly and rapidly, and to regard him in a gently expectant manner. Eric Haile found himself unable to decide whether she was doing it on purpose. If she was, then she was deep, and he had better be careful. If not—well, she was easy, and he could go right ahead. He thought he would go on—but warily of course. He looked at her with great frankness and laughed.

‘What I am trying to say is that whilst I am delighted to see you here, I would rather like to know whether your visit is a professional one.’

Miss Silver coughed gently.

‘I think you may call it so, Mr. Haile.’

‘Then—pray do not misunderstand me—just what do you hope to accomplish?’

She knitted in silence for a moment before she spoke.

‘You referred just now to the Urtingham pearls, and you said that in this case nothing was missing. I cannot agree with you there.’

‘Indeed?’ He stared at her. ‘And what do you suppose to be missing in this case?’

‘The truth, Mr. Haile.’

This was said with so much simplicity that he could have laughed. He did permit himself an indulgent smile.

‘Well, well, there is that way of looking at it of course. But with regard to my cousin’s death, I don’t really think that we have very far to look for this truth you speak of. I’m afraid there can be no doubt that he was stabbed by Lila Dryden. Lady Dryden naturally does not choose to admit it, but the facts speak for themselves. Not very creditable facts, I am afraid. Sybil Dryden was pushing that unfortunate girl into what she considered a very advantageous marriage. Have you met Lila Dryden?’

‘Not yet.’

He threw up a hand.

‘A lovely creature—quite unsophisticated—mentally still in the nursery. You had only to see her with my cousin to realize that she had an intense physical shrinking from him. To my way of thinking the whole thing was iniquitous. Then last night Herbert got out this ivory dagger, and there was a lot of talk about how old it was, and how many people it might have killed. They say he locked it up again afterwards—there is an alcove with a steel shutter behind that curtain over there—but I can’t say I saw him do it myself. I was bringing in gramophone records from the study, and as luck would have it, Mrs. Considine asked for a John McCormack record from Lucia di Lammermoor. She not only asked for it, but she gave us a résumé of the plot, which is of course taken from Scott’s Bride of Lammermoor. I expect you will remember that Lucy Ashton stabs the bridegroom who has been forced upon her on their wedding night.’

Miss Silver inclined her head.

‘A most painful story.’

His tone took on a shade of condescension.

‘I’m afraid the plots of operas are mostly that way. But it was an unfortunate moment to talk about Lucy Ashton. I thought Lila was going to faint. Anyone could see that she was abnormally affected by the story. To my mind there is no doubt that she later walked in her sleep and came across the dagger. Whether she was still asleep when she stabbed poor Herbert, there is no means of knowing. If she woke suddenly to find him touching her or holding her, I feel that anything may have happened. I have not the slightest doubt that that is how my cousin met his death. She was not, of course, responsible for her actions, and no jury would find that she was. But Lady Dryden is simply shutting her eyes to the facts when she looks for any other explanation.’

Miss Silver looked down at her knitting. She might have been counting the stitches, or she might not. After a moment she said,

‘How well you put it, Mr. Haile. And how extremely interesting.’

Lady Dryden came back into the room as she spoke. Her manner was a little more commanding than usual. No one would have guessed that she had just been obliged to admit defeat. In a minor matter, it is true, but she was not accustomed to have her wishes set aside. And by Ray Fortescue! She would have a word with Ray presently, but at the moment it was, of course, impossible to risk throwing Lila back. Ray, like Eric Haile, was taking too much upon herself.

She had gone up to find all the curtains drawn back and Lila on the sofa in a pale blue dressing-gown looking really quite cheerful, with Adrian Grey more or less holding her hand. And all Ray had to say was, ‘We thought we would have tea up here with Lila. And I’ve been telling her about Miss Silver, so perhaps she would like to come up too.’ It had really left her with nothing to say. She simply couldn’t risk upsetting Lila, and Ray knew it. There would be something to be said later. But Lady Dryden knew how to make a virtue of necessity. She was doing it now, and in the grand manner.

‘Lila has had a refreshing sleep and seems to be quite herself again. I wonder if you would care to join her and Ray for tea, Miss Silver?’

CHAPTER XXII

Detective Inspector Frank Abbott and Inspector Newbury drove up to the house together at just after five o’clock. It had turned cold and was beginning to be wet. The house felt agreeably warm when they came into it.

As Marsham stood back from the front door, which he had closed behind them, he received a shock of surprise. The Inspector from Scotland Yard looked a great deal more like a guest than accorded with his sense of the fitness of things. He had been in very good houses, and he knew. Even if he had still been in service with the Earl of Drumble he would without a qualm have admitted this tall fair young man on any social occasion. Very good clothes too. Savile Row if he was a judge, and he thought he was. Not too new, and worn the way a gentleman ought to wear his clothes—as if they were the right and proper thing for him to wear and he didn’t have to give them a thought.

Lady Dryden, who was coming down the stairs, received the same impression, though she would not have put it in quite the same way. She had a moment of wonder as to who this distinguished-looking young man could be, and one of angry surprise when he was presented as Detective Inspector Abbott from Scotland Yard.

‘The new Police College product, I suppose,’ was her comment to Adrian Grey, who had followed her.

Adrian supposed so too. He had had only a fleeting glimpse of the two Inspectors as they turned into the passage leading to the study.

‘What did you say his name was?’ He had an idea that he had seen the tall, slim figure and the fair slicked-back hair before.

‘Abbott,’ said Lady Dryden rather as if the name were an offence to her. ‘Detective Inspector Abbott.’

Adrian felt a tinge of amusement. Even at a time like this Sybil Dryden appealed to his sense of humour. He proceeded to gratify it.

‘Then it’s Frank Abbott. He’s related to everybody all over England, and I’ve met him. I thought I knew that back. He looks as if he had been kept on ice ever since the family came out of the Ark, but I believe it’s mostly manner. His grandmother was old Lady Evelyn Abbott, and a noted dragon in her day. She quarrelled with his father and cut Frank out of her will when he went into the police. The money all went to a granddaughter.’

‘Oh, there was money?’

‘One of those shipping fortunes.’

Miss Silver, coming downstairs about half an hour later, encountered a short, alert little man who was giving very perfunctory attention to Lady Dryden’s remarks about her niece’s health. She caught the words ‘extremely delicate from a child’, and had no difficulty in arriving at the conclusion that the gentleman to whom they were addressed was Dr. Everett, the Police Surgeon. As she passed him he set a determined foot upon the bottom step.

‘Well then, I’ll just go up and see for myself. There’ll be someone with her, I take it, so I needn’t trouble you.’

‘But, Dr. Everett—’

‘Now, Lady Dryden, it’s no manner of use, and you’re not helping her or yourself. If she’s fit to be seen, they must see her, and if she isn’t, I’ll say so. You mustn’t expect me to take my opinion from you or from anyone else. And you may take it from me, if she’s any way fit it’ll be best for her to get it over, so I’ll just be going up.’ He suited the action to the word, and at a very brisk pace.

Lady Dryden stood where she was with an angry flush on her face. Miss Silver gave a slight admonitory cough.

‘These inquiries are painful, but they must take their course. Believe me, it is not wise to oppose them. I gather from what he said that the Inspector is here.’

‘Two of them,’ said Lady Dryden. ‘There is a man from Scotland Yard with Inspector Newbury.’

Miss Silver looked brightly interested.

‘Indeed? May I ask his name?’

‘I believe it is Abbott.’

Miss Silver said in a pleased sort of way.

‘Really? How very pleasant! Such an able officer. And an old friend of mine.’

Dr. Everett made his appearance on the landing and began rapidly to descend the stairs.

‘A remarkable improvement. That’s a very sensible girl you’ve got with her. Nice girl—level-headed. Best thing possible for Miss Dryden. And she’s perfectly fit to make a statement. Of course she needn’t. I’ve told her that. Always play fair. She’s got a perfect right to refuse, or to hold her tongue until she can see her solicitor. But she’ll have to see the Inspectors and tell them so herself. I’ll be there.’ He went briskly off in the direction of the study.

Miss Silver considered her course of action. She had no wish to be intrusive, or to put herself in Frank Abbott’s way. It would not be very long before someone or other would mention her presence at Vineyards. Meanwhile she had spent quite an informative half-hour with Lila Dryden and Adrian Grey, to say nothing of the afternoon’s conversations with Lady Dryden and Mr. Haile. She felt that she had plenty of food for thought, and that it would be pleasant to finish little Josephine’s vest. She proceeded in the direction of the drawing-room.

It was, however, no more than a few minutes later that Lady Dryden followed her in a formidable cold rage. She had been refused permission to be present while Lila was questioned, and she strongly suspected that it was Dr. Everett who had instigated the refusal. She relieved herself by some very caustic remarks, and subsided finally into a state of icy resentment. For the first time in her life she was up against circumstances which she could not control and people whom she could not manipulate. The whole structure of the law, taken, as we all take it, for granted, emerged as a factor not to be diverted or compelled. Instead of a safeguard it had become a threat. She knew what it was to be afraid. She sat staring into the fire, and had no more words.

Upstairs Lila was supporting the ordeal of being questioned with perfect calm. Since Adrian was sure that she hadn’t killed Herbert, everything was quite all right. The immense relief of knowing that nobody could make her marry him now really left no room for anything else. Inspector Newbury and Inspector Abbott sat side by side and asked her a great many questions. Some of them she could answer, and some she couldn’t. When she didn’t know the answer she said so. It really wasn’t frightening at all.

‘Why did you go downstairs, Miss Dryden?’

‘I don’t know. Adrian says I was walking in my sleep.’

‘ïs that what he told you to say?’

Lila’s blue eyes opened quite wide. They were very beautiful eyes.

‘Oh, no—he saw me.’

That was Inspector Newbury. Then the London Inspector.

‘Did you go down to meet Mr. Waring?’

‘Oh, no. I was going to wait and see him in the morning.’

‘He wrote and asked you.to meet him?’

She gazed at him earnestly.

‘Oh, yes. And I didn’t know what to do. I thought, and thought, and I didn’t feel as if I could go down. Everything was so empty, and everyone in bed—except perhaps, I thought, Herbert might still be there, and if I went down—’ Her colour went. She said in a whisper, ‘I couldn’t.’

‘You were afraid of him?’

‘Oh, yes’—a shudder shook her—‘dreadfully.’

‘Then why did you go down?’

Ray stood behind the couch. The young man with the mirror smooth hair and the cold blue eyes was trying to catch Lila out. She had to bite her lip to keep back angry words. But there was no need to be angry. Lila wouldn’t be caught, because she was speaking the truth. She just looked at him and said,

‘But I didn’t—at least I didn’t mean to. It was cold, so I sat down on this couch and pulled the eiderdown over me. I had to think whether I would have to go down or not, and I thought I wouldn’t. I thought if I didn’t go down. Bill would come back in the morning, and that would be a great deal better. And then I must have gone to sleep. I didn’t mean to go down—I didn’t really.’

‘You know you did go down?’

‘I didn’t know I was doing it.’

‘You know you went down to the study?’

Her eyes widened.

‘I woke up there.’

‘Go on, Miss Dryden.’

‘Herbert was dead—’

‘How did you know he was dead?’

‘I thought he was—’

‘What made you think so?’

She said, ‘Blood’—in a whispering voice. ‘On my hand—and on my dress—’

‘And that made you think Sir Herbert was dead? Did you think you had killed him?’

She shook her head.

‘I didn’t think—it was all too dreadful. Adrian was there. He says I didn’t. He says he was just behind me.’

‘Did you dream when you were walking in your sleep?’

‘Oh, no—I don’t. At least I don’t remember it if I do.’

‘Do you often walk in your sleep?’

‘I used to when I was at school.’

‘And lately?’

‘Aunt Sybil said I came out on the landing one night last week. I didn’t know I did.’

‘And you don’t remember dreaming last night?’

She shook her head.

‘No—I just woke up. And Adrian was there.’

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