“Have you talked about it since?”
Mirrie nodded.
“Oh, yes, we have. I thought he wouldn’t want to marry me if there wasn’t any money, but he says he does. He says he would work his fingers to the bone for me, and he promised-he really did promise that I needn’t go back to Uncle Albert and Aunt Grace. He said he had a little money from an aunt and he was looking for a garage he could put it into, and there would be a flat over it and we could live there. Oh, Georgina, it does sound lovely, doesn’t it?”
“He knows you haven’t got any money?”
Mirrie gave a final sob.
“He says he loves me a lot and it doesn’t matter.”
Chapter XXVIII
JOHNNY FABIAN came back with that lightening of the spirit which comes from the feeling that a lot of very disagreeable and trying things now lie behind you, and that you can get back to ordinary ways again. He considered Sid Turner to be one of the disagreeable things. He was a good and easy mixer, but even on a desert island he didn’t feel as if it would be possible to mix with Sid. He saw him follow Mr. Maudsley into a first-class carriage and wondered how long it would take a ticket-collector to find out that he had only paid a third-class fare. The thought of Mr. Maudsley’s feelings when it happened cheered him all the way back to Field End.
He went up two steps at a time and along to Georgina ’s sitting-room. She had changed into a house-coat and was sitting with her hands in her lap and only one shaded lamp turned on. There was a pleasant small fire, the room felt warm and peaceful. He came over and dropped into a chair on the other side of the hearth.
“Well,” he said, “they’ve gone. Hand in hand so to speak- the revolting Sid and the respectable Maudsley. I don’t somehow feel that a lasting friendship will develop.”
Georgina ’s brows drew together.
“I can’t think why he came down.”
“Can’t you, darling? That’s your nice pure mind. Mine tells me he came down to nose out how much Mirrie had come in for and to cash in on it.”
Her eyes rested upon him with rather a curious expression.
“She is afraid of him.”
“Darling, if she hasn’t got any money, I shouldn’t think he would have any designs. I feel we may count on Sid fading out with or without soft music.”
“I don’t think she is fond of him.”
“I’m quite sure she isn’t.”
“But it isn’t very nice for a girl to feel that a man is only wanting her money. Even if she isn’t fond of him it would leave a kind of bruise, don’t you think?”
Johnny said; “Has she been talking to you?”
“I’ve been talking to her.”
“What did she say?”
“What was there for her to say?”
“That I had made love to her?”
“Could she have said that? Would it have been true?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You’ve always been quite good at making love, haven’t you, Johnny?”
He gave a rueful laugh.
“I suppose I have. And anyhow why not? Girls like it. I like it. A good time is had by all, and no harm done.”
“No one who really knew you would take you seriously. Mirrie doesn’t know you very well. It’s a game to you, but it mightn’t be a game to her.”
There was a pause. After a moment he said,
“Suppose it wasn’t a game to me-this time. It isn’t, you know.”
There was another pause and a longer one. He was sitting forward with his chin in his hand looking away from her into the fire. She couldn’t really see his face. In the end she said,
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“Surprising, isn’t it? I-I’d like to talk to you if you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind, Johnny.”
“It began when Jonathan brought her here. You know how she strikes you, how she would strike anyone-little stray thing trying to ingratiate itself, hoping it’s going to be allowed to stay. It seemed only natural to make a bit of a fuss of her. Then when I saw she liked it I began to have ideas. Jonathan was falling for her like a ton of bricks, and I thought-well, I suppose you can guess what I thought.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Mind you, I’d have been good to her. I mean-”
He found it impossible to say what he meant. He had lived under the same roof as Georgina for nineteen years and there really wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other. She knew very well what he meant, and she said so.
“You thought Uncle Jonathan would set you up in a business of your own and say, ‘Bless you, my children.’ ”
“Something like that. Mind you, I wasn’t in a hurry. I was looking about for a nice little going concern, and I thought he would be getting used to the idea of my being fond of Mirrie. And then all this had to happen. One minute everything was going on all right, and the next it was all in the melting-pot and nobody knew where anybody stood. Mirrie told me that Jonathan had made a new will. She said he had told her he was treating her as if she was his daughter. I didn’t mean to say anything to her then, but the conversation just came round that way. She thought she was going to have a lot of money, and she wanted to give me some of it. I said it couldn’t be done, and-oh, well, I expect you can see the way it went. I suppose I lost my head-I suppose I didn’t try very hard not to lose it-and before we knew where we were we were talking about the flat over the garage I was going to get! I have got old Aunt Eleanor’s two thousand pounds-”
Georgina said, “Oh, Johnny!”
He looked round with a fleeting grin.
“I know, I know. Jonathan gone and Mirrie an heiress, and I don’t even let twenty-four hours go by before making sure of her-that’s the way it looks.”
“It does rather.”
He said,
“It just happened. You know the way things do. You get on a buttered slide and it just runs away with you.”
Georgina was looking at him. He wasn’t putting on an act. She said,
“You must have had a horrid shock when you found that Jonathan had burned the will he made on Tuesday.”
“Yes-in a way. I suppose you won’t believe me, but-”
“Why shouldn’t I believe you?”
He gave an odd short laugh.
“I don’t find it easy to believe myself! When Maudsley said that about the will being burned and your inheriting under the old one it knocked Mirrie right off her balance. She thought it meant that she would have to go back to that infernal Home, and whether you believe it or not, all I could think about was the best way to look after her and make her feel safe. When she said I wouldn’t want to marry her if she hadn’t got any money I knew that I wanted to marry her more than I had ever wanted anything in all my life. And I went after her and said so.”
Georgina put out her hand to him, but he didn’t see it. He was staring into the fire.
“This afternoon at the funeral that horrible chap Sid Turner came up and spoke to Mirrie. I can’t think what possessed him to show up. No, that isn’t true. It was fairly obvious that it was because he thought Mirrie was coming into Jonathan’s money. I’ve just been driving him into Lenton with Maudsley, and he began about it in the car. Mirrie had told him about the will, and he shot off a line about seeing she got her rights. I left Maudsley to cope with him, which he did very efficiently. But all the time he was talking-all the time, Georgina -it was coming home to me that if it hadn’t been for Jonathan there mightn’t have been a pennorth of difference, between him and me. You know I hadn’t the faintest, most shadowy claim on Jonathan. Mama was only about a seventeenth cousin, and I was just a horrid scrubby little schoolboy who was no more relation to him than Adam, but he let her bring me here, and he has always let me treat this as my home. If I’d really had to live by my wits, I don’t expect there would be anything to choose between me and Sid. It came over me pretty clearly that I’d the devil of a lot to thank Jonathan for. And Mama-and yo
u.”
Georgina said, “Thank you, Johnny.” Then, after a little pause, “What are you going to do now? I mean, about Mirrie. Are you engaged?”
“Well, yes, we are. Do you think we ought to give it out?”
“I don’t know. She is very young, Johnny.”
He said,
“Someone has got to look after her. She can’t go back to that uncle and aunt.”
“They won’t want her if there’s no money. You had better wait and let me talk to Mr. Maudsley.”
For the first time he turned round to face her.
“What are you going to say to him?”
Georgina laughed. She put out her hand again, and this time he took it. She said,
“Wait and see.”
The serious Johnny was gone. His eyes laughed back at her.
“You couldn’t be going to give us a nice wedding present, could you, darling?”
Georgina said, “I might.”
Chapter XXIX
LATER ON that evening Miss Silver had a conversation with Detective Inspector Frank Abbott. It took place, as their former interviews had done, in the study, but in what appeared to be a rather less formal atmosphere. The first sense of shock and strain had lifted a little. Miss Silver’s knitting-bag lay open on a corner of Jonathan Field’s writing-table, the bright peonies and larkspur of the chintz contrasting in a most pleasing manner with a lining of primrose silk. Her hands were occupied with a pair of pale blue knitting-needles from which there depended a cloudlike pattern in a very fine white wool. A soft towel across her knees protected what was destined to be a baby shawl from contact with the stuff of her skirt. There were always babies who needed shawls, and those knitted by Miss Silver were in continual demand. She looked across the needles at Frank Abbott and said,
“I really feel that some enquiry into Mr. Sid Turner’s activities might prove rewarding.”
He laughed.
“I wasn’t drawn to him myself, but he probably goes with a bang in Pigeon Hill.”
“He is certainly very well pleased with himself. What is more important is that Mirrie Field is afraid of him.”
“And what makes you think that?”
“I was watching her when he came over to speak to her in the churchyard. I was not near enough to hear what was said, but his manner was very bold and assured, and Mirrie took a step away from him and towards Mr. Fabian. Sid Turner immediately displayed a marked offence and Mirrie looked very much frightened.”
“I should have expected her to enjoy playing off one of them against the other-but, as you are no doubt about to say, perhaps not at her uncle’s funeral.”
Miss Silver repeated what she had already said.
“She was very much frightened.”
“Well, he struck me as the type that wouldn’t mind making quite a nasty scene. But there is more to it than that, I suppose. I take it you didn’t come in here after me to discuss Mirrie Field’s love-life. I have no doubt she would have flirted with Sid if he was the best she could do at Pigeon Hill, but you can’t really be surprised if she prefers Johnny Fabian at Field End. Sid would naturally feel he was being given the dirty end of the stick. He is probably quite a lad in his own circles, and I expect Mirrie got the wind up as you say.”
Miss Silver shook her head.
“I do not think the situation is quite as simple as that. Mirrie has had a very dull life with the uncle and aunt who brought her up. They were not only badly off, but extremely strict. She had no pocket-money and she was allowed no amusements. She was not even allowed to go to the cinema, and would in any case have had no money to pay for a ticket. But I discovered that she had seen most of the current films. She told Georgina that Uncle Albert and Aunt Grace did not approve of Sid Turner, and that she was not allowed to go out with him, but I am quite sure that she contrived to do so. I think she is very good at contriving. She has an artless manner which is a considerable asset. Up to a certain point I believe it to be natural, but she has learned to use it with considerable skill.” He threw up a hand.
“My dear ma’am-what a dissection!”
Miss Silver continued to knit.
“You have frequently told me that I understand girls. I should have wasted my time in the schoolroom if I had not acquired some appreciation of the different types and the probable pattern of their behaviour. Mirrie’s type is not an uncommon one. Her faults have been accentuated by severity and coldness in her surroundings. She has a natural craving for comfort, pleasure, and affection. And she has learned to play a part. But as Lord Tennyson so truly says, speaking of one who veils ‘his want in forms for fashion’s sake,’ nature will at seasons break through-‘For who can always act? ’ ”
“My dear ma’am, you surpass yourself!”
Her glance reproved him. She said,
“I am endeavouring to convince you that Mirrie Field was not only shocked out of playing a part by the unexpected appearance of Sid Turner, but that she had, and has, some reason to be deeply afraid of him.”
“Go on.”
She paused to draw three or four strands of wool from the ball in her knitting-bag. After which she said gravely,
“I believe Georgina told you that she had received an anonymous letter accusing her of being jealous of Mirrie and of trying to humiliate her. I think some of the material must have been furnished by Mirrie herself, though I do not suppose she knew the use to which it would be put to by Sid Turner.”
“You think the letter came from him?”
“I think there is a strong probability that it did. I had a conversation with Sid Turner in the dining-room after we had all returned from the funeral. The room was crowded, refreshments were being served, and as most of the people present were either relatives or old family friends, he was left in a somewhat isolated position. When I approached him he enquired in an extremely mannerless way whether I was the governess. My answer being that it was some years since I had retired from the scholastic profession, he obviously concluded that I had occupied the position of governess to Georgina Grey, and it occurred to him that he might extract information from me with regard to the disposition of Mr. Field’s property. I may say that the whole tone of his conversation reflected a coarse and vulgar mind.”
“And you did not blast him?”
“My dear Frank!”
“He actually survived?”
Miss Silver did not permit herself to smile, but the line of her lips relaxed.
“I refrained from reproof.”
“The thunderbolt was withheld!”
“I wished to hear what he would say.”
“And what did he say?”
“He wanted to know whether the house was left to Mirrie. He assumed that it was, and was very much put out when I said I believed that it had been left to Miss Georgina Grey. I encouraged him to go on talking but gave him no more information. During the whole time that we were conversing it was quite plain that he regarded me as a person who need not be considered in any way, and with whom it was quite unnecessary to be on his guard. I allowed myself to appear inaccurate and easily confused in matters of detail. On more than one occasion he intervened to correct me.”
Frank Abbott was now completely serious.
“What are you leading up to?”
“The points on which he was able to set me right. You will know whether the fact that Mr. Field was shot through the heart while sitting at his writing-table appeared in the Press. It was not mentioned in either of the papers which are taken here.”
He was regarding her with attention.
“No details were released to the Press. The first mention of them was at the inquest this morning. At the time it was merely stated that he had been found shot in his study.”
“When I purposely made an inaccurate allusion to Mr. Field having been found stretched on the floor and shot through the head, Sid Turner lost no time in putting me right with the assertion that the paper had said Mr. Field was sitting at his desk. A little la
ter he spoke casually of Mr. Field having been shot through the heart.”
Frank said frowning,
“Mirrie could have told him that.”
“She had no opportunity. I was in the car with them on the way back from the funeral. Mirrie and Georgina Grey went straight upstairs.”
“She could have written to him, or he could have picked up the information locally. These things get out, you know.”
Miss Silver coughed in a manner which he took to indicate dissent.
“When I introduced the subject of the album-”
“Oh, you introduced it?”
“I wished to ascertain whether there would be any response.”
“And was there?”
“A very marked one. I enquired whether his paper had mentioned that the album containing Mr. Field’s collection of famous fingerprints was found beside him, to which he replied that he believed it had.”
“There was certainly no mention of the album.”
“That is what I thought. Sid Turner, having been supplied with an excuse to talk about the album, continued to do so. He wondered whether the fingerprints could have had anything to do with the murder, and seemed to be a good deal taken up with the idea that the murderer’s motive might have been to get rid of some incriminating print. He then asked me whether any of the pages had been torn out.”
“Oh, he did, did he? And what did you say?”
“I enquired whether there was anything about it in the paper he had read.”
Frank Abbott spoke quickly.
“If he said there was-”
Miss Silver shook her head.
“He did not commit himself, merely saying, ‘Then a page was torn out?’ I replied that I could not say, but I supposed that the police would have looked into the matter. It was plain that Mr. Turner was a good deal interested. I had, throughout, the feeling that he wished to direct attention to the album, and to suggest a link with the murder. It is very difficult to convey what I may perhaps call the atmosphere of such a conversation, but I have very little doubt that he was aware of the presence of the album before I mentioned it, and equally aware that one of the pages had been removed.”
The Fingerprint Page 18
