“Cosmo said he went a little way along the cliff path and turned back. He said Richard passed him and went along towards Nanny Capper’s-walking very fast. He said if I spoke of having seen him, he would have to say this, and then Rachel would believe that it was Richard who had pushed her. And when Richard didn’t say he had been on the cliff path, I thought-I thought-I didn’t know what to think.”
At this point Louisa gave a rending sniff. It might have been the sniff of affliction, or it might, on the other hand, have signified acute disbelief.
Her face, like her hands, remained clenched upon whatever it was that she was feeling.
Richard’s arm dropped from Caroline’s waist.
“You thought-you thought that I had pushed Rachel over the cliff!”
She broke into a childish sob.
“Richard-I didn’t-I wouldn’t! He said he’d seen you. He said you were angry with Rachel, and he was afraid you had lost your head. I didn’t believe it-but I’d got so that I couldn’t think.”
“And why was I angry with Rachel? Did he tell you that?”
“He said-he said he was afraid the blackmailer had got tired of waiting for me to find the money. He said he thought the man had been to you, and that you had tried to get the money from Rachel and-and failed.”
“So I went and pushed her over the cliff! Caroline, did you really believe all this stuff?”
They had both forgotten that there was anyone else in the room. She said in the voice of a scolded child,
“He kept on saying things. I couldn’t think about them any more. They just hurt.”
“You see,” said Miss Silver with a small preliminary cough-“you see what a strong motive there was for silencing Miss Caroline. Mr. Frith must have been in desperate straits for money. In fact we now know that this was the case. He was very much afraid of losing his footing with Miss Treherne, yet if Miss Caroline were to confide in her or in Mr. Richard, he would lose that footing once and for all. He was running a frightful risk and he dared not go on. Hence the attempt on Miss Treherne’s life. It was cleverly planned and boldly executed. If it had succeeded, it would have been quite impossible to bring it home to him, but thanks to Mr. Brandon it did not succeed. He was still desperate for money, alarmed by my presence, and afraid of what Miss Caroline would say when she was questioned. He might well be afraid, because now not only was she likely to give away the falsehoods he had made her believe about Mr. Richard, but she was also in a position to say that his story of having been in the house between five and six-fifteen was untrue, since she had actually met him on his way to the cliff path. His guilty conscience pushed him on. Some time on the Thursday night he took out his car and ran over to Pewitt’s Corner to uncover the well. Barlow, whose room is over the garage, is known to be an extremely heavy sleeper, Mr. Maurice was away. Mr. Richard might have heard the car-”
Richard shook his head.
“I’m like Barlow-nothing wakes me.”
“Mr. Frith would naturally be aware of that. He chose to take the slight risk of being heard rather than the risk of being seen by daylight at Pewitt’s Corner. There really was very little risk at all. It was, I feel, an interposition of Providence that Miss Treherne mentioned the cottage and the well to me before she left with Mr. Brandon. I had to wait until Mr. Frith took his departure. He was so very explicit as to his movements that my suspicions were redoubled. Why, in the midst of all this anxiety about Miss Caroline, should he go out of his way to inform me that he was leaving his car at a garage in Ledlington whilst he continued his journey to London by train? When I found that he had actually done this I realized that Miss Caroline was in very great danger. But I did not believe that the danger lay in London. No, if Mr. Frith wished to direct everyone’s attention to London, then the danger lay elsewhere, and when I asked myself where, I remembered the lonely cottage at Pewitt’s Corner with its very convenient well. As we now know, Mr. Frith alighted at Slepham and joined Miss Caroline who was waiting for him with her car at the old house near the halt. Mercifully, I had a five miles start of him. The fog was an equal handicap to both cars, and thanks to Barlow’s skilful driving we reached the cottage in time to prevent a terrible tragedy. I was naturally much surprised to find that Miss Treherne and Mr. Brandon were already there. You have never told me how that happened, Miss Treherne.”
Rachel coloured.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about the well,” she said in a low voice.
Miss Silver nodded.
“We were all thinking about the well-Mr. Frith-and myself-and you. A very dangerous contrivance, and lamentably out of date. Modern plumbing is not only a great deal more convenient, but it does not so readily lend itself to a criminal intent. Survivals from the dark ages may be romantic, but I must confess I prefer modern conveniences.”
Gale Brandon slid his hand over his mouth. Rachel turned rather hastily to Louisa.
“Now, Louie-you have heard everything. I should like to hear you beg Miss Caroline’s pardon.” Louisa lifted her eyes. They looked first fiercely and then imploringly, but Rachel met them with something implacable in her own level gaze. Louisa received an ultimatum, opposed it, hung irresolute, and suddenly gave way.
Her hands still gripping one another, she got up, stared over the top of Caroline’s head, and said in a hard, mechanical voice,
“I’m sure I beg your pardon, Miss Caroline, but none of it wouldn’t have happened if so be you’d spoken up.”
After which she retired in good order upon Rachel’s bedroom, where she could be heard relieving her feelings by a vigorous opening and shutting of drawers and cupboard doors.
Caroline cast a wavering look at Richard’s angry face, burst into tears, and ran out of the room. Richard, to all appearances angrier than before, jumped up and went after her, slamming the door behind him with so much violence as to wake Noisy, who, opening both eyes this time, uttered a protesting grunt, rolled over to face the fire, and once more sank deep into a dream.
Miss Silver said, “Dear me!” patted her neat front as if she feared that the draught of the slammed door might have disarranged it, murmured a polite unheeded excuse and withdrew.
Gale Brandon went over to the bedroom door and shut it firmly.
The sound of Louisa working off her temper receded. He turned and held out his arms to Rachel, and she came into them with a sob.
“I’ve been a terrible failure, Gale. I wonder you’re not afraid to try me for a wife.”
Mr. Brandon’s lips being muffled by her hair, his answer was not very plainly audible, but she inferred that he was quite willing to try. After an interval he elaborated the theme.
“You know, honey, I think you’re the finest woman on the earth, so if you couldn’t make a go of it, there isn’t anyone in the world who could. And that’s just where it got you. There isn’t anyone who could make a go of all that money, and this will business, and those relations of yours. I don’t know what they were like to start with, but this show was just naturally bound to bring out every single bad quality they’d got. That’s hard talking, but there’s got to be some hard talking between us. I don’t blame you, because you were nothing but a girl-you hadn’t any experience to go on, and your father landed you in for it. And I don’t blame him, because first he was a very sick man, and then he was so sick that he died, and it stands to reason that he wasn’t in a state to think clearly. It always beats me why people attach so much importance to a dying wish. If there’s one kind of wish that oughtn’t to be taken any notice of, it’s that, because it stands to reason that a man who’s so sick he’s going to die isn’t in a fit state to go binding wishes on other people. Anyhow, honey, it’s all got to stop now. You give your sister what you think she ought to have-tied up in trust if you like-and do the same by the others. Let them have their money and stand on their own feet, and if they ditch themselves, you just leave them there till they get enough horse sense to climb out again. Don’t you go feeding them pap any more. It d
oesn’t do them any good and it doesn’t do you any good, and anyhow I’m not going to have it.”
Rachel felt rather as if she were out in a high wind. The wind seemed to be blowing quite a lot of things away. And she didn’t care. She let them go down the wind. The rough tweed of Gale’s coat was pleasant and harsh under her cheek. Half her life was gone, but there was another half to come.
Gale tipped up her chin with a strong, gentle hand.
“What you really want is a family of your own,” he said.
Patricia Wentworth
Born in Mussoorie, India, in 1878, Patricia Wentworth was the daughter of an English general. Educated in England, she returned to India, where she began to write and was first published. She married, but in 1906 was left a widow with four children, and returned again to England where she resumed her writing, this time to earn a living for herself and her family. She married again in 1920 and lived in Surrey until her death in 1961.
Miss Wentworth’s early works were mainly historical fiction, and her first mystery, published in 1923, was The Astonishing Adventure of Jane Smith. In 1928 she wrote The Case Is Closed and gave birth to her most enduring creation, Miss Maud Silver.
***
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Lonesome Road Page 21
