The Silent Pool (2 page)

Miss Silver saw these things and the something else for which she looked. It was there in the eyes and in the set of the mouth. There had been wakeful nights and days of indecision and strain before Adriana Ford had brought herself to play the part of Mrs Smith and bring her troubles to a stranger. She said, ‘Perhaps you will now give me the particulars for which I asked you.’

Adriana Ford laughed.

‘Persistent – aren’t you?’ she said. The laughter passed. She went on in her deep voice, ‘You want to know who was in the house, and what they were doing, and whether I think any one of them has been trying to kill me – don’t you? Well, I can give you a list of names, but it isn’t going to help you any more than it has helped me. Sometimes I think I’m imagining the whole thing. I came to see you because quite suddenly I felt I couldn’t just sit and wait for the next thing to happen. Quite a lot of people come and go at Ford House. I’ll give you their names and tell you who they are, but I want it to be clearly understood that I’m not suspecting anyone or accusing anyone, and that if I say the word, you will tear up any notes you may have taken and forget everything I’ve told you.’

Miss Silver said,

‘I have already assured you that whatever you say will be in confidence. Always provided that no tragic event should necessitate the intervention of the law.’

Adriana’s hand rose and fell. It was the gesture Miss Silver had remembered — slight, graceful, and expressive.

‘Oh, after me the deluge! If I’m murdered, you can do what you like!’ The words were spoken on an impulse which spent itself and died. A frown followed, and quick words. ‘Now why did I say that? I didn’t mean to. We had better get on with those names.’ She tapped with her fingers upon the arm of her chair. ‘I don’t know how much you know about me, but everyone knows that I’ve retired from the stage. I live three miles from Ledbury in an old house down by the river. It is called Ford House. I bought it twenty years ago. I fancied it because of the name. I was born Rutherford, but I went on the stage as Adriana Ford. Some of my relations have stuck to the Scotch Rutherford, but some of them call themselves Ford – after me. I’m the last of my own generation. Now, I’ll begin with the staff at Ford House. Alfred Simmons and his wife, butler and cook. They’ve been with me for twenty years. They live in, and so does Meeson, whom I suppose you can call my maid. She used to be my dresser, and she is devoted to me. She came to me when she was only a girl, and she’s about sixty now. Then there are two women who come in daily – a girl called Joan Cuttle, a silly irritating creature, but you can’t imagine her wanting to poison anyone — and a middle-aged widow whose husband used to be an under gardener. Her name, if you want it, is Pratt. Outside, there’s a gardener called Robertson, and a young man under him, Sam Bolton. He looks after the car and does odd jobs.’

Miss Silver wrote down the names in the blue exercise-book whilst Adriana fell into a frowning silence. In the end she said,

‘Well, that’s all the staff, and I can’t think of a single reason why any of them should want me out of the way.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘No legacies?’

‘Well, of course! What do you take me for? Meeson’s been with me for forty years, and the Simmons for twenty.’

‘Are they aware that you have provided for them?’

‘They would think very badly of me if I hadn’t.’

‘Miss Ford, I must ask you to be exact. Do they actually know that you have provided for them?’

‘Of course they do!’

‘And to a considerable extent?’

‘I don’t do things by halves!’

‘Any other legacies to the staff?’

‘Oh, no. At least – that is – five pounds for every year of service. A hundred would cover the lot.’

Miss Silver drew a line across the page.

‘We have now disposed of the staff. May I ask who else resides at Ford House?’

Adriana’s fingers traced the outline of a carved acanthus leaf.

‘My cousin Geoffrey Ford and his wife Edna. He is in his late forties. His means are not what he would like them to be, and the life of a country gentleman suits him. He began by coming for visits, which have prolonged themselves into a more or less permanent stay. He is agreeable company, and I like to have a man about the house. His wife is one of those tiresome well-meaning women. She interferes with the servants and calls it doing the housekeeping. She would like to keep everything locked up and dole it out in daily doses. And she is ridiculously jealous of Geoffrey.’

Miss Silver held her pencil poised.

‘When you say ridiculously, do you mean that she has no reason to be jealous?’

Adriana laughed a little harshly.

‘Far from it! I should say she had every reason! But what does she expect? She is older than Geoffrey, and she could never have been attractive. No one has ever been able to make out why he married her. As far as I know, she has no money. Well, so much for Geoffrey and Edna. Then there’s Meriel.’

Miss Silver wrote down the name and repeated it on a note of enquiry.

‘Meriel—?’

‘Oh, Ford – Ford. At any rate that’s what she’s been called for the last twenty-three years or so. And it’s no use your asking where she comes in, because she doesn’t. You may say that she was thrown on my hands, and there she’s likely to remain. She frightens the men away. An intense creature – probably a misfit anywhere.’

‘What does she do?’

‘The flowers.’ Adriana’s mouth twisted.

‘You have never thought of giving her a profession?’

‘Oh, I’ve thought of it, but all she has ever wanted to do was to go on the stage or to dance – starting at the top. She has no idea of working, and she has no real talent. In fact the whole thing is a grievance.’

Miss Silver wrote against the name of Meriel Ford – ‘Emotional, disappointed, discontented.’

She looked up, to find Adriana’s eyes fixed on her with a doubtful expression.

‘Those are all the regular people, but of course there were visitors. I suppose you don’t want to know about them.’

‘Do you mean that there were visitors staying in the house at the time of the incidents which have alarmed you?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Then I think you had better give me the names.’

Adriana leaned back.

‘Well, there was Mabel Preston for one. She was there for the day when I broke my leg, but of course she couldn’t have had anything to do with it.’

‘And who is Mabel Preston?’

Adriana made a face.

‘Oh, an old friend, and an unlucky one. She used to be quite well known as Mabel Prestayne, but she married a wrong un and went downhill. He spent everything she earned, and when she couldn’t earn any more he went off and left her, poor thing. I have her down once in a way, but I must say I didn’t want her just then.’

Pencil poised, Miss Silver enquired,

‘Had she any interest in your will?’

Adriana looked rueful.

‘Well, she has. I help her a bit, and she is down for an annuity. But it wouldn’t be of any advantage to her really. In fact I should think she would lose by my death, because I give her things from time to time – clothes, you know – that sort of thing. You can put Mabel out of your head. It’s really not worth your while to write her down. I’ve known her for forty years, and she wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

‘Have you any other names to give me?’

‘There is my young cousin, Star Somers – you will know about her. She is very pretty and attractive, and she has had quite a success in comedy. She doesn’t live at Ford House, but she runs up and down because her little girl is there with a nanny. Star divorced her husband about a year ago. He comes down sometimes to see the child, but he doesn’t stay in the house. Another occasional visitor is Star’s cousin, Ninian Rutherford. They’re like brother and sister and very fond of each other – their fathers were twins. He comes to stay when she is there.’

Miss Silver wrote down the name. Then she said,

‘And which of these people was staying in the house when you fell on the stairs?’

Adriana’s eyes looked back at her with a mocking expression.

‘Oh, all of them, except Robin Somers. No, let me see – I believe he was there too. He doesn’t come down as a rule when Star is at Ford, but it was Stella’s birthday — the little girl, you know – and he actually remembered it. Star wouldn’t see him – she was furious. There was a party – just a few children from round about – and I had been in the thick of it, but I went upstairs to try and get Star to come down, and she wouldn’t because of Robin. So he must have been in the house when I fell… The date? Oh, March the fifteenth.’

Miss Silver wrote that down too.

‘And the incident of the mushroom soup?’

‘Oh, that was in August. And I can’t give you the exact date, so it’s no use your asking me. I only remember about my fall because it was Stella’s birthday. But it would have been a weekend, if that is any use, because Star was there, and Mabel – and, yes, I suppose most of the others too, but not Robin. At least not that any of us knew. But as to the tablet, you can see for yourself it might have been put into the bottle by anyone and at any time. In fact,’ said Adriana with a radiant smile, ‘anyone might have done any of the things, or they may all have been just nothing at all.’ She opened the old fur coat and threw it back with a buoyant gesture. ‘Now that I’ve told you all about it, you can’t think how much better I feel. You know how it is, you think of things in the night and they get hold of you. I expect the whole thing is just imagination from start to finish. I slipped and fell. The fly on the drop of soup just happened to die – flies do. And as to the tablet, I suppose it might have been a different sort that got in by mistake, or one that hadn’t turned out quite right – something like that. I had better just put the whole thing right out of my mind.’

Miss Silver was silent. Her face was grave and composed. She thought Adriana Ford was talking to convince herself, and she wondered whether the effect would be more than a transitory one. It was a little while before she spoke again.

‘As you have said yourself, you have very little to go upon. The fall might have been quite accidental, and the evidence as to the soup is far from conclusive. The tablet does give grounds for thought. It is a great pity that you threw it away. Since you have come to consult me, I will give you the best advice I can. Short of changing your household and your whole mode of life, there are certain things which you could do.’

Adriana’s fine brows lifted.

‘As what?’

‘You could make a point of having your meals with the rest of the family. Separate meals make it a great deal easier to tamper with food. That is the first point.’

‘And the next?’

‘Allow your household to suppose that you have been making alterations in your will. If there is anyone who believes that your death will profit him or her, such an announcement would cast doubt upon the matter and thus remove a possible temptation.’

Adriana threw out her hands in a sweeping gesture.

‘Oh, my dear Miss Silver!’

Miss Silver said sedately,

‘That is my advice.’

Adriana flung back her head and laughed. It was a deep and musical sound.

‘Do you know what I am going to do?’

‘I think I can guess.’

‘Then you are even cleverer than you think. I’m going to take out a new lease of life, and I’m going to live it my own way. Things happened when I was sitting here telling you I thought there was someone who wanted me dead – I didn’t believe it any more, or if I believed it I didn’t care. I’m going to live. And I don’t mean just to drag on, an invalid on a couch — I mean really live. I’ve got a car hired for the day and Meeson waiting in it, and when I go out of here I’m going shopping, and I’m going to get a lot of new clothes, and I’ll have my hair touched up – it wants it. And I’ll go back to Ford and I’ll make a big splash there. My parties used to be famous. I don’t know why I stopped giving them — the War, and then I couldn’t be bothered – but I’m going to start all over again. And I’ll keep a good look out, I can promise you that. If there is anyone who wants me out of the way, they are not going to find it so easy!’

The drawing-room at Ford House was a great deal too full of furniture. It was a large room with three long windows looking to the terrace, but it was not as light as it ought to have been because the old painted panelling had deepened to what was practically sage green, and the heavy grey velvet curtains obscured a good deal of the glass. In the days when Adriana Ford had entertained there these moss and lichen shades had made a wonderful background for her flaming hair and her whole magnificent exuberance. In her absence it was the furniture which dominated the scene – towering Chippendale cabinets crammed with china; a grand piano in ebony and mother-of-pearl; tables in ormolu, in marqueterie, in walnut inlaid with satinwood; monumental sofas; enormous chairs; a marble mantelpiece like the entrance to a tomb; a clutter of ornaments. Adriana had lighted it all like a torch. Without her it was a gloomy has-been.

Star Somers sat lightly on the arm of one of the chairs. She did not seem to belong to the room at all. She was in grey, but not the storm-grey of the velvet curtains. Her beautifully cut suit had the light silvery shade which went well with her name. A diamond brooch flashed from the lapel, a row of pearls crossed the neckline of a delicate white shirt. She was as exquisite off the stage as upon it. If the light had been twice as bright as it was, it would have disclosed no fault in the perfect skin, the lovely eyes, the pale gold hair. And the perfection owed practically nothing to art. Nature had given her eyelashes just that deeper tinge which flattered the grey eyes, and she wore no rouge and needed none. When she was pleased her colour rose, when she was sad it ebbed. Her charming mouth was emphasized by a most attractive shade of lipstick. At the moment her eyes were wide, her lips parted, and her colour high.

‘You weren’t going to tell me!’ she said. ‘You’ve actually let Nanny go off without telling me!’

Edna Ford, who was her cousin Geoffrey’s wife, looked down a long pale nose. Everything about her was pale – the hair which always reminded Star of sun-dried grass, the light blue eyes with their sandy lashes, the thin colourless lips set in a disapproving line. Even the embroidery upon which she was engaged had a pale and faded look, the background dull, the colours indeterminate, the pattern formal. Every time she put the needle in and drew it out again she managed to convey the fact that Star was making a fuss about nothing. There was going to be a scene. These theatrical people were all so emotional. And why couldn’t Star sit down in a chair like anybody else instead of perching herself up on the arm like that? The covers were showing signs of wear anyhow, and it was going to cost the earth to replace them. Since it was Adriana who would have to foot the bill, there was really no need for her to worry about it. She kept her voice even with an effort and said,

‘But you knew she hadn’t had her holiday.’

Star looked at her reproachfully.

‘But I never can remember about dates – you know I can’t. And you didn’t tell me – you didn’t tell me a thing. You know perfectly well that I would never, never go all the way to America unless I was quite, quite sure about Stella.’

Edna prayed for patience.

‘My dear Star, I don’t know what you mean. You seem to forget that Stella is not a baby any longer. She is six years old. I shall be here, and Meeson, and Mrs Simmons, and that nice girl Joan Cuttle who comes up from the village. Surely between us we can look after one little girl — and really Nanny will only be away for a fortnight.’

The grey eyes brightened, the soft voice shook.

‘When six people are looking after a child everybody thinks someone else is doing it, which simply means that no one does it at all! And you know perfectly well that Meeson has her hands full with Adriana! Mrs Simmons is a cook, not a nurse. She’s always complaining she’s got too much to do anyhow! And as for this Joan Cuttle, I don’t know a thing about her, and I’m not leaving Stella with someone I don’t know through and through! This is the most wonderful chance for me, but I’d rather throw it up than not be sure about Stella! Nanny must come back!’

Edna allowed herself a faint smile.

‘She has gone on one of these motor-coach trips – France – Italy – Austria—’

‘Edna – how frightful!’

‘I have no idea where she is. She can’t possibly come back.’

Star’s eyes brimmed with tears.

‘Even if we did know, she’s as obstinate as the devil – she probably wouldn’t come.’ A bright tear splashed down upon the diamond brooch. ‘I shall just have to cable out to Jimmy and say he must let someone else have the part. It was absolutely written for me, and he’ll give it to that frightful Jean Pomeroy. She’ll ruin it of course, but it can’t be helped. Stella must come first!’

‘My dear, you are just being theatrical.’

Star gazed at her, more in sorrow than in anger. Her colour had faded. She produced a small handkerchief and brushed it across her eyes.

‘Of course you wouldn’t understand. I can’t expect you to – you’ve never had a child.’

An unbecoming flush showed that the thrust had told. The little mournful voice went on.

‘No – that is what it will have to be. Jimmy will be furious. He has said all along that there wasn’t anyone else who would be right. It’s just me! But I always have put Stella first, and I always will. I can’t and I won’t leave her unless – unless—’ The handkerchief dropped. Her colour flowed back. She clasped her hands and said with leaping enthusiasm, ‘I’ve got an idea!’

Edna was prepared for anything.

‘You can’t take her with you—’

‘I shouldn’t dream of it! Of course it would be fun – oh, wouldn’t it! But I shouldn’t think of it for a moment! No, what I have thought about is Janet!’

‘Janet?’

Really Star was too difficult to follow. She jumped from one thing to another and expected you to know what it was all about.

‘Janet Johnstone,’ said Star. ‘She was the minister’s daughter at Darnach – that place where I used to go and stay with the Rutherford relations. Ninian and I used to see a lot of her. Stella would love her. And I shouldn’t have a single moment’s worry – you couldn’t with Janet. Dependable, you know, without being stuffy. You hardly ever get it, do you? But Janet isn’t – not the very least bit. She would be perfect.’

Edna stared.

‘Is she a children’s nurse?’

‘No, of course she isn’t! She’s Hugo Mortimer’s secretary. You know – the man who wrote Ecstasy and White Hell. And he’s gone off on a three months’ holiday, shooting, or fishing, or something, so she’ll be on her own, and she could quite easily come down here for Nanny’s fortnight, and I could go off without a care in the world.’

‘But, Star—’

Star jumped down from the arm of the big chair. She was as light and graceful as a kitten.

‘There aren’t any buts! I’ll go and ring her up at once!’