by Vernon Loder
On the one hand, bearing and voice and everything spoke to a man distracted and on edge, on account of his bereavement. To set against that was Elaine’s admission that he and his wife had had differing taste, which had set them rather apart, and her omission when he asked her for closer details. There was also the gossip, which might be fundamentally incorrect, but had not arisen out of nothing.
And yet, as Carton told himself uneasily, it did not seem to matter much either way, so far as Tollard was concerned. He was away at the time, and he had what looked like a fool-proof alibi.
‘What do you know of Mr Barley?’ he asked, suddenly coming out of a reverie.
Elaine started. She too had been thinking. ‘Mr Barley? Oh, I like him. He is very generous and kind.’
‘Yes, but what do you know of him?’
‘Not much more than anyone else does, Jim. I believe he is a retired financier.’
‘That isn’t altogether a testimonial—may not be anyway. Finance covers a multitude of fishinesses.’
She smiled faintly. ‘He knows one or two people I know, and when he heard I was lecturing at Elterham, he wrote and mentioned the names of two, and asked me would I come on a visit.’
‘Was Tollard one of them?’
‘Yes. Ned says he had a good reputation.’
‘Why did he ask you? Is he a traveller?’
‘Not at all, I believe. But, as he put it to me, he had no chance of marrying, and wanted to get associated with a geographical discovery.’
‘What the dickens for?’
‘Well, it was an ingenuous thing to say, but I know what he meant. He has no children to carry on his name.’
‘Funny old chap! He wanted to be known to posterity by a side wind.’
She nodded. ‘Something like that.’
Carton wrinkled up his eyes, a way he had when he thought himself on the track of something. ‘But the fact that you were a guest here would not help him much.’
‘It wasn’t that, quite. He volunteered to come to my help with funds for the next expedition.’
‘Since you came here?’
‘Of course.’
If she expected him to pursue the subject further she was mistaken. They had neared the edge of the cover, and saw a small cottage on the rim of it.
‘That’s Jorkins’ place, I take it?’
‘I think it must be.’
‘Looks to be shut up,’ said Carton, as they advanced. ‘The oak is sported, and there doesn’t seem any smoke from the chimney.’
‘I hope we haven’t come all the way for nothing.’
‘Hope not. We’ll soon see.’
They advanced to the cottage, only to find the door locked, and the place empty. They looked in at a window, but could see no one.
‘He may be back for his lunch,’ said Jim.
As he spoke a keeper came out of the cover, a gun on his arm, and advanced, touching his hat to Elaine.
‘Did you want to see Jorkins, miss?’
‘Yes, we did. Is he away?’
‘Afraid he is, miss. He had a job I give him this morning to get some rabbit netting from Elterham, or leastways order it.’
‘Then he will be back later?’
‘No, miss, not along of this murder up at the big house, he won’t. This be Saturday, and he has to give evidence at the inquest Monday. Police said he had to come, and gave him a paper about it.’
‘A subpoena,’ said Carton.
‘That’s it, sir—a suppeeny. He has a married sister living over to Elterham, and he said to me might he go to stay on there, after he’d ordered the netting, and save a journey back and forward. So I said he could, knowing Mr Barley wouldn’t mind.’
Carton nodded. ‘Thank you. I’ll see him again another time. Well, Elaine, we’d better hurry back to lunch, I think.’
CHAPTER XI
SUPPRESSIONS
A FEW of Mr Barley’s guests wandered into the billiard-room after lunch, and after a faint-hearted attempt to play pool, sat down on the bank to smoke and chat.
Carton and Elaine were there, with Ortho Haine and Nelly Sayers. All of them kept studiously away from the topic that most intrigued their minds, and the conversation, growing more and more desultory, threatened to die of sheer inanition, when Tollard came in, hat in hand.
‘I must get a breath of fresh air,’ he said, looking at Elaine, after a short look at the others. ‘What about a walk?’
Carton expected Elaine to say she was tired after her trudge over the fields that morning, but she only nodded.
‘I don’t mind.’
‘Come along, then,’ said Tollard. ‘Three or four miles’ tramp will do me good.’
‘Elaine has done her bit already,’ said Jim.
‘Oh, if you’re tired!’ said Tollard.
‘I shan’t be a minute,’ said Elaine, smiled faintly about her, and went out. Tollard nodded casually to the others, and followed her. Ortho Haine looked discontentedly about him.
‘Come for a spin in my jigger, Nelly?’
Miss Sayers shook her head. ‘Not now, thanks, but don’t let me keep you.’
‘If you won’t, you won’t,’ he said sulkily, and lounged out.
‘He never smiles on me,’ said Jim Carton, as the door closed. ‘I am not in his good books.’
She laughed. ‘He’s young.’
‘That must be the disease. I say, Miss Sayers, that poor thing who is dead quite perplexes me. She seems to have been so fascinating to some, and so unattractive to others.’
‘She was like that,’ said Nelly. ‘I suppose some people would think her perfectly lovely. She had an oval face and the fairest of hair, and melting soft eyes—the kind you see in a Greuze. Then she was very slim and graceful, and had an odd way of moving. It wasn’t quite walking. Sinuous, you know, that sort of thing.’
‘Was her conversation as attractive as the rest of her?’
‘No. She hadn’t much—at least to me. I always thought her very silent. I don’t know that I should call her sulky, but you know what I mean.’
‘The blow seems to have stunned Tollard anyway.’
‘That’s the funniest part of it,’ she said. ‘Of course I expected him to feel it, for he is a good sort, but I imagined he wouldn’t be exactly crushed.’
‘It surprises you?’ said Carton.
‘Well, in a way. You see, though there was nothing in it, he seemed so keen on Elaine’s trip. I don’t mean to say a married man ought to have no interests outside his home, but most of them felt that if he were very happy with his wife, he wouldn’t stay far away from her.’
Carton nodded. ‘It’s puzzling, isn’t it? But you can see he is sincere about it now. He really is terribly cut up?’
He meant this as a question, though he did not accentuate that. She agreed without hesitation.
‘Of course. He looks almost a wreck.’
Carton looked her straight in the face. ‘We need not doubt it. Lots of fellows who are married happily enough think they have a whole lifetime before them. They wake up when their wives die, and are horribly shocked to discover that even wives are mortal. In confidence, Miss Sayers, I may tell you that I know too much about Elaine ever to suspect that she would encourage Tollard. We mustn’t make too much of this, or get things out of proportion.’
‘Oh, I never thought she would,’ cried Nelly. ‘And I do see what you mean. If anyone talks about them that way again, I’ll manage to work that in.’
‘I wish you would,’ he said, having got from her all the information he could.
Later on, Mrs Minever happened to sit near him, and, without asking for them, he was favoured with her views. When he managed at last to get away from her, he was frowning a little.
Justifiably or unjustifiably, most of Tollard’s acquaintances had formed the opinion that he did not get on well with his wife. Most of them, until his last appearance after the tragedy, had suspected him of a latent tendresse for Elaine. About Elaine herself opin
ion was divided. Mrs Minever and Mrs Gailey half believed Elaine had encouraged him.
This made him angry with Ned Tollard. The fellow, if the reports about tension in his home were true, ought to have had more discretion.
Most of the guests went early to bed that night. Carton sat them all out, and found himself at last with Mr Barley, smoking a final pipe.
Elaine had told him of Mr Barley’s offer, and he wanted to probe a little deeper into that. Barley had probably been an experienced and successful financier, but aptitude in business does not always make a man an expert in other affairs. The elderly man was only sophisticated to a point. In his own home he showed himself kindly, unreserved, simple-minded.
‘I suppose this kills Miss Gurdon’s expedition,’ said Jim, feigning to be busy with a pipe that drew badly.
‘I’m afraid it does, for the time at least,’ said Mr Barley. ‘I am really very sorry, for she is so keen on it, and her mind was quite taken up with the idea.’
‘I think it was unwise of Tollard to offer to back her,’ said Jim. ‘But he won’t repeat that error. I wish I could do something myself.’
‘In what way, Mr Carton?’
‘Well, you suggested that she might take it up later. Funds will be just as necessary then.’
Mr Barley waved his pipe. ‘I can come to her rescue, as I tried to before.’
‘That’s good of you, sir. I think Elaine told me she had had an offer from you. What a pity you didn’t get in first.’
‘I think it is, but that can’t be helped now. But perhaps—who knows?—she may settle down, and get married, and then she won’t want to go gallivanting about the world.’
Carton looked at him so sharply that he added awkwardly, ‘I don’t mean Tollard, of course. I wondered if you now—’ he smiled kindly, and glanced at his guest.
Carton smiled. ‘I admit, sir, you made a good shot. Between you and me, I am inclined to resolve the prospected next expedition into pleasant nothingness.’
‘I wish you luck,’ said Barley, that confirmed sentimentalist. ‘You’ve known her a long time?’
‘Long enough to decide that she was worth waiting for, sir.’
‘That’s the right spirit, my boy,’ cried Barley. ‘I don’t know what your chances are, but you have my best wishes.’
‘I wish I knew myself,’ said Jim thoughtfully.
Ever since the tragedy Mr Barley had been bursting to confide in somebody. Here was a young man who had known Miss Gurdon for years, who was in love with her; a nice fellow, and a very intelligent one. He fell to the temptation to be expansive.
‘Since you are so interested in Miss Gurdon,’ he began, after a look about him, ‘I think I may as well tell you what has been worrying me.’
‘Unless you feel sure that you want to, sir—’ began Jim.
‘I am quite sure you will keep it to yourself. I should like your opinion. The other people here seem to have taken sides so strongly that I don’t care to ask any of them. I think you have heard some of the gossip that was flying about. Very well. I heard it too. I have known Tollard for a year or two. I like him. I liked his wife too, though she was not exactly the sort of woman who would take to a fossil like me. But when I heard this talk, I thought I would like to put things straight if I could. Officious, perhaps, but I meant well. I hate to see people unhappy. I was very unhappy once in my young days, and I thought I would have a shot at putting things right.’
‘It was a kindly impulse at all events, sir,’
‘From what I saw of Tollard and his wife I did not think that any real damage had been done, Carton. I felt that they were beginning to drift apart. Then I got a notion I should like to see the lady who was said to be causing the trouble. I knew she was famous in her way, but I thought her face would tell me more about her than the newspaper paragraphs.’
‘No doubt.’
‘So I asked Tollard and his wife here, and I asked Miss Gurdon at the same time. I happened to be the chairman at her lecture in Elterham. If I had thought to find her what is vulgarly called a “vamp,” Carton, I was much mistaken. I took to her from the first. I decided, rightly or wrongly, that she was not the kind of woman to make hay of her friend’s happiness.’
‘You were right there.’
‘I thought so. I think so still. But I am enough of a man of the world to realise that circumstances are sometimes stronger than the people they surround, and in any case, I felt that this association of her husband with Miss Gurdon was making the wife unhappy. It occurred to me that I might remove the cause of quarrel.’
‘I don’t think you went astray in that.’
‘Perhaps not. Though, since this terrible business, I am beginning to doubt if it is wise for any outsider to try to compose quarrels. However, Tollard was backing Miss Gurdon, and I had a talk with her and offered to supply her with the necessary funds. If she had accepted she would not have been dependent on Tollard, these long consultations with him would have been rendered unnecessary, and Mrs Tollard would be easier in her mind.’
Carton smiled. ‘You were generous enough, sir.’
‘Oh, I have plenty of money. A few thousands is not so much to me as to some people. But it was in the interview with Miss Gurdon that I must have made some error in tact.’
Carton nodded. ‘May I hear what it was?’
‘I am not a diplomatist, and I suppose I was nervous and showed my hand. She was clever enough to see what I was getting at, and refused my offer.’
‘On what grounds?’
‘She said, naturally enough, that if she went to Tollard and turned his offer down after accepting it, he would think she was afraid of the situation. She was also afraid that people who heard of it would draw the obvious inference, I think some of them would have done so. After that, I was foolish enough to hint that Mrs Tollard was unhappy about it, and she fired up a little, so that I was glad to drop the subject.’
‘But why should she fire up?’ asked Carton, with a puzzled air. ‘You had made a generous offer, with the best of intentions.’
‘Well, you see, she did not like Mrs Tollard. She seemed to have a grievance against her. I know what she meant. She is herself a woman of action and resolution, and Mrs Tollard was a languid, rather aesthetic kind of woman. They didn’t hit it off, and Miss Gurdon told me plainly she thought Mrs Tollard was spoiling her husband’s life.’
Carton frowned. He had found Tollard changed. Had Elaine changed too?
‘It would not be wise to repeat that at the inquest.’
‘I don’t intend to, Carton. I know a bit about the law, and when I give evidence in a court of law I confine myself strictly to what I know. I should never dream of quoting hearsay, or other people’s gossip. That is fatal.’
‘Absolutely. However, you got the idea that Mrs Tollard was unhappy, probably jealous. It is a curious thing that that opinion gained ground, while I have met no one yet who ever heard Mrs Tollard complain.’
‘That’s true. She never complained to me. I hope I was mistaken. I may have been. Tollard evidently loved his wife. Life is an odd thing, Carton; it isn’t lived on the surface.’
Carton knocked out his pipe. ‘You will have someone to represent you at the inquest?’
‘My solicitor will watch matters for me. He is coming down tomorrow. If she consents, I shall ask him to represent Miss Gurdon as well. The police may have some evidence we are not aware of.’
‘The inquest will be adjourned very likely. In that case you might ask your solicitor to watch for police omissions rather than evidence.’
‘You think they may suppress something?’
‘It’s possible. If, for example, they suspect someone, and have not sufficient evidence to go on, they will pass over that person as lightly as possible.’
‘Not to alarm them prematurely?’
‘Exactly.’
‘What do you think of this woman in red?’
Jim Carton shook his head. ‘I can’t form an opinion ye
t. The man saw someone, but we have no idea who it was. It seems unlikely that anyone intruding for the purpose of murder would show himself at the window, even if it was still early morning.’
‘No. I suppose not. But he must have seen someone.’
‘It does not seem to have occurred to anyone yet that Elaine—Miss Gurdon, went in there. Perhaps at the very moment when the man was passing across the park.’
‘Oh, it did occur to me, but she was not wearing red.’
‘Did you look at the clock when you got out of bed, and went across with Miss Gurdon to see to Mrs Tollard?’
‘I have no clock in my room. I can’t bear a tick at night. I keep my watch under my pillow, but in a thick chamois case. In any case, I did not expect to find Mrs Tollard dead. When I returned to dress I was too upset to look.’
‘That is unfortunate. Did Elaine say what time it was she got up and went into the other room?’
‘I don’t think she did. She said she was awakened by a sound of a restless sleeper next door soon after dawn, but I don’t think she knew the exact time. She did not mention it to the superintendent.’
‘Then we have no means of relating events to time,’ said Carton. ‘But you are quite right. No one takes note of the exact time when they are not aware that anything hangs on the minute. Well, sir, I think I’ll go to bed. Thank you for letting me hear your views about this sad business.’
‘We can’t get away from the sad things in life,’ said Mr Barley bromidically. ‘Good-night, Mr Carton.’
CHAPTER XII
CARTON IS DISSATISFIED
MORALLY, the house-party began to break up next day. Mr Barley went to church, taking with him Mrs Minever, a reluctant Ortho Haine, and Mrs Gailey. Nelly Sayers professed to have a headache, but found a cure for it an hour later.
Carton had hoped to get Elaine alone that morning, but he turned up late at breakfast, to find that Elaine and Tollard had breakfasted early, and gone out. He was not in the mood to listen to Nelly’s artless comments, so he escaped to his room again, as soon as he could, and sat down to wipe out extensive arrears of correspondence.
