Fourteen

I
In a quiet hotel room Edwards was listening deferentially to Sir HenryClithering.

“There are certain questions I would like to ask you, Edwards, but Iwant you first to understand quite clearly my position here. I was at onetime Commissioner of Police at Scotland Yard. I am now retired intoprivate life. Your master sent for me when this tragedy occurred. Hebegged me to use my skill and experience in order to find out the truth.”

Sir Henry paused.

Edwards, his pale intelligent eyes on the other’s face, inclined his head.

He said: “Quite so, Sir Henry.”

Clithering went on slowly and deliberately:

“In all police cases there is necessarily a lot of information that is heldback. It is held back for various reasons—because it touches on a familyskeleton, because it is considered to have no bearing on the case, becauseit would entail awkwardness and embarrassment to the parties con-cerned.”

Again Edwards said:

“Quite so, Sir Henry.”

“I expect, Edwards, that by now you appreciate quite clearly the mainpoints of this business. The dead girl was on the point of becoming Mr. Jef-ferson’s adopted daughter. Two people had a motive in seeing that thisshould not happen. Those two people are Mr. Gaskell and Mrs. Jefferson.”

The valet’s eyes displayed a momentary gleam. He said: “May I ask ifthey are under suspicion, sir?”

“They are in no danger of arrest, if that is what you mean. But the policeare bound to be suspicious of them and will continue to be so until thematter is cleared up.”

“An unpleasant position for them, sir.”

“Very unpleasant. Now to get at the truth one must have all the facts ofthe case. A lot depends, must depend, on the reactions, the words and ges-tures, of Mr. Jefferson and his family. How did they feel, what did theyshow, what things were said? I am asking you, Edwards, for inside inform-ation—the kind of inside information that only you are likely to have. Youknow your master’s moods. From observation of them you probably knowwhat caused them. I am asking this, not as a policeman, but as a friend ofMr. Jefferson’s. That is to say, if anything you tell me is not, in my opinion,relevant to the case, I shall not pass it on to the police.”

He paused. Edwards said quietly:

“I understand you, sir. You want me to speak quite frankly — to saythings that in the ordinary course of events I should not say—and that, ex-cuse me, sir, you wouldn’t dream of listening to.”

Sir Henry said:

“You’re a very intelligent fellow, Edwards. That’s exactly what I domean.”

Edwards was silent for a minute or two, then he began to speak.

“Of course I know Mr. Jefferson fairly well by now. I’ve been with himquite a number of years. And I see him in his ‘off ’ moments, not only inhis ‘on’ ones. Sometimes, sir, I’ve questioned in my own mind whether it’sgood for anyone to fight fate in the way Mr. Jefferson has fought. It’s takena terrible toll of him, sir. If, sometimes, he could have given way, been anunhappy, lonely, broken old man—well, it might have been better for himin the end. But he’s too proud for that! He’ll go down fighting—that’s hismotto.

“But that sort of thing leads, Sir Henry, to a lot of nervous reaction. Helooks a good-tempered gentleman. I’ve seen him in violent rages when hecould hardly speak for passion. And the one thing that roused him, sir,was deceit….”

“Are you saying that for any particular reason, Edwards?”

“Yes, sir, I am. You asked me, sir, to speak quite frankly?”

“That is the idea.”

“Well, then, Sir Henry, in my opinion the young woman that Mr. Jeffer-son was so taken up with wasn’t worth it. She was, to put it bluntly, a com-mon little piece. And she didn’t care tuppence for Mr. Jefferson. All thatplay of affection and gratitude was so much poppycock. I don’t say therewas any harm in her—but she wasn’t, by a long way, what Mr. Jeffersonthought her. It was funny, that, sir, for Mr. Jefferson was a shrewd gentle-man; he wasn’t often deceived over people. But there, a gentleman isn’thimself in his judgment when it comes to a young woman being in ques-tion. Young Mrs. Jefferson, you see, whom he’d always depended upon alot for sympathy, had changed a good deal this summer. He noticed it andhe felt it badly. He was fond of her, you see. Mr. Mark he never likedmuch.”

Sir Henry interjected:

“And yet he had him with him constantly?”

“Yes, but that was for Miss Rosamund’s sake. Mrs. Gaskell that was. Shewas the apple of his eye. He adored her. Mr. Mark was Miss Rosamund’shusband. He always thought of him like that.”

“Supposing Mr. Mark had married someone else?”

“Mr. Jefferson, sir, would have been furious.”

Sir Henry raised his eyebrows. “As much as that?”

“He wouldn’t have shown it, but that’s what it would have been.”

“And if Mrs. Jefferson had married again?”

“Mr. Jefferson wouldn’t have liked that either, sir.”

“Please go on, Edwards.”

“I was saying, sir, that Mr. Jefferson fell for this young woman. I’ve oftenseen it happen with the gentlemen I’ve been with. Comes over them like akind of disease. They want to protect the girl, and shield her, and showerbenefits upon her—and nine times out of ten the girl is very well able tolook after herself and has a good eye to the main chance.”

“So you think Ruby Keene was a schemer?”

“Well, Sir Henry, she was quite inexperienced, being so young, but shehad the makings of a very fine schemer indeed when she’d once got wellinto her swing, so to speak! In another five years she’d have been an ex-pert at the game!”

Sir Henry said:

“I’m glad to have your opinion of her. It’s valuable. Now do you recallany incident in which this matter was discussed between Mr. Jeffersonand his family?”

“There was very little discussion, sir. Mr. Jefferson announced what hehad in mind and stifled any protests. That is, he shut up Mr. Mark, whowas a bit outspoken. Mrs. Jefferson didn’t say much—she’s a quiet lady—only urged him not to do anything in a great hurry.”

Sir Henry nodded.

“Anything else? What was the girl’s attitude?”

With marked distaste the valet said:

“I should describe it, sir, as jubilant.”

“Ah—jubilant, you say? You had no reason to believe, Edwards, that”—he sought about for a phrase suitable to Edwards—“that—er—her affec-tions were engaged elsewhere?”

“Mr. Jefferson was not proposing marriage, sir. He was going to adopther.”

“Cut out the ‘elsewhere’ and let the question stand.”

The valet said slowly: “There was one incident, sir. I happened to be awitness of it.”

“That is gratifying. Tell me.”

“There is probably nothing in it, sir. It was just that one day the youngwoman, chancing to open her handbag, a small snapshot fell out. Mr. Jef-ferson pounced on it and said: ‘Hallo, Kitten, who’s this, eh?’

“It was a snapshot, sir, of a young man, a dark young man with ratheruntidy hair and his tie very badly arranged.

“Miss Keene pretended that she didn’t know anything about it. She said:

‘I’ve no idea, Jeffie. No idea at all. I don’t know how it could have got intomy bag. I didn’t put it there!’

“Now, Mr. Jefferson, sir, wasn’t quite a fool. That story wasn’t goodenough. He looked angry, his brows came down heavy, and his voice wasgruff when he said:

“‘Now then, Kitten, now then. You know who it is right enough.’

“She changed her tactics quick, sir. Looked frightened. She said: ‘I do re-cognize him now. He comes here sometimes and I’ve danced with him. Idon’t know his name. The silly idiot must have stuffed his photo into mybag one day. These boys are too silly for anything!’ She tossed her headand giggled and passed it off. But it wasn’t a likely story, was it? And Idon’t think Mr. Jefferson quite believed it. He looked at her once or twiceafter that in a sharp way, and sometimes, if she’d been out, he asked herwhere she’d been.”

Sir Henry said: “Have you ever seen the original of the photo about thehotel?”

“Not to my knowledge, sir. Of course, I am not much downstairs in thepublic departments.”

Sir Henry nodded. He asked a few more questions, but Edwards couldtell him nothing more.