Danger Point

Chapter 48

INSPECTOR MARCH rang the bell of Miss Mellison’s boarding establishment late that evening. Miss Mellison herself opened the door in a flowered overall and a string of bright blue beads, her face rather flushed, and her grey hair wispy from the combined effects of the July heat and the kitchen fire.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting – it’s my girl’s day out. If you wouldn’t mind – my little sitting-room – I’m sure I’m only too pleased. Miss Silver won’t be a moment. I think you know the way.”

She fluttered towards the stairs, disclosing as she turned a section of a brick-red dress of some woollen material with about two inches of green art-silk petticoat showing at the hem. No wonder she was hot.

March entered the little room in which Miss Silver had entertained him on a previous occasion. The windows were shut and the air thick with the smell of cooking and furniture polish. As he turned round from opening everything that would open, Miss Silver came in, cool, and neat, and dowdy.

“My dear Randal – this is very kind! I have naturally been most anxious to see you. Pray sit down. You have dined?”

“Oh, yes.”

She settled herself, picked up a new piece of knitting of which only a couple of rows of pale pink wool appeared upon the needles, and said with a regretful sigh,

“So it was the husband after all.”

Randal March was so much startled that he was quite unable to disguise the fact.

“My dear Miss Silver!”

She inclined her head in a prim little nod.

“It surprises you that I should know anything about it?”

He gave a rueful laugh.

“I am always expecting you to whip out a broomstick and ride away.”

Miss Silver pursed up her mouth in a deprecating manner.

“My dear Randal-”

Before she could say any more the handle turned, the door was pushed open, and Miss Mellison entered with a tray upon which reposed two cups of coffee, a jug of hot milk, a small bowl of sugar crystals, and half a madeira cake.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have troubled.”

Miss Mellison said that it was no trouble at all. She had taken off her overall and powdered her nose. The brick-red dress, now fully revealed, was high to the neck and long in the sleeve. The blue beads were of the kind that are sold to tourists in all the Venetian shops. She fluttered from the room and shut the door behind her.

“So kind,” murmured Miss Silver – “she quite spoils me.” Then, in a brisker tone, “Dear me – what were we saying? Oh, yes – it is really all very simple. You are wondering how I come to know about Mr. Dale Jerningham having crashed his plane last night. The young man from the Ledlington Stores – his name is Johnson – has a brother who works at the Tanfield aerodrome. When he called with the groceries this morning he said how upset his brother was. There had been something wrong with the plane, but they thought they had got it right. I am afraid I am not sufficiently conversant with such matters to be able to tell you what the trouble was.”

“I’m glad there’s something you don’t know.”

Miss Silver coughed.

“Technical details are always better left to the expert. Well, Johnson told his brother that Mr. Jerningham would go up. He was called to the telephone just as he was starting. There had been an accident at Tanfield Court, and whether this news upset him, or whether there was something wrong with the plane, when Mr. Jerningham did go up he seems to have lost control and his machine crashed in the sea. One of the coastguards saw it – a man called Pilkington. They were all very much upset when he rang up the aerodrome and told them what had happened. Mr. Jerningham was very much liked – very open-handed and generous, so Johnson told his brother.”

March surveyed her with a faint smile.

“How much more do you know?”

Miss Silver sipped her coffee.

“Oh, very little. May I cut you a slice of cake?… No? It is a little dry, I am afraid… We heard about Mrs. Jerningham’s accident from the baker who delivers at Tanfield Court. Poor thing – Mr. Rafe brought her in at midnight soaked to the skin and in a state of collapse. She had fallen into one of those deep pools among the rocks, and they had been caught by the tide. A most providential escape.”

“Yes, I think you may call it that,” said Randal March.

“After that,” said Miss Silver, “it was really all quite simple. A single accident is quite likely to be an accident – I can believe in it as well as anyone. But four accidents in a row one after another, all connected with the same person, is more than I can bring myself to believe.”

“Four accidents?”

Miss Silver sipped her coffee.

“About a fortnight ago Mrs. Jerningham was nearly drowned – she only came round after artificial respiration had been employed for some time. Since that her car has been smashed to pieces and she only escaped death by a miracle, a girl who was wearing her coat has been murdered, and she herself has again been within an ace of drowning. She is rescued by Mr. Rafe Jerningham, who then had a telephone conversation with his cousin, immediately after which Mr. Dale Jerningham takes his plane up and crashes. I must confess that I find it impossible not to connect all these events. Am I wrong in doing so?”

March’s smile had gone. He put his coffee-cup back on the tray and said gravely,

“No – you are perfectly right. But look here – this isn’t to be talked of.”

Miss Silver drew herself up.

“My dear Randal!”

“No, no – I beg your pardon – I didn’t mean that. You can know about it – you do know about it – but it’s confidential between you and me. I’ve been with the Chief Constable, and he’s most anxious that there shouldn’t be a scandal. There’s more in it than just the wish to avoid stirring up mud about a well known county family. Rafe Jerningham – look here, this is very hush-hush – is having a couple of inventions taken up by the government. I’m told they are very hot stuff, and that he is considered a valuable asset. He is being given a job under Macclesfield. The last thing on earth that anyone desires is that he should be mixed up with anything that invites publicity. Of course Pell will have to be got out of the mess. The facts will go to the Director of Public Prosecutions, and the case against him will be dropped. Jerningham’s dead, and there’s nothing to be gained by washing a lot of dirty linen in public.”

Miss Silver’s needles clicked.

“It is always a very unpleasant proceeding,” she observed. “In fact, my dear Randal, there are times when I consider the freedom of the Press a somewhat overrated blessing. But I am interrupting you. I feel sure you were going to continue your narrative. Pray do so.”

He eyed her with the suspicion of a twinkle.

“If there is really anything that I can tell you. Well, this is what happened. Rafe Jerningham rang up at seven o’clock this morning and asked me to go out there. He looked like death, poor chap, and he told me the whole thing. He found that poor girl out beyond the Shepstone Rocks in a regular trap of a pool. Her husband had pushed her into it and left her there for the tide to finish. I’ve seen the place, and how on earth Rafe got her out of it and back amongst those rocks in the dark beats me.”

“A providential escape indeed,” said Miss Silver earnestly.

“He got her home, and rang up the aerodrome. As soon as Dale Jerningham heard that his wife was alive he would know that the game was up. Pell was the rock he struck on – they might have held their tongues if it hadn’t been for him. But even Dale Jerningham must have seen that he couldn’t very well expect them to stand aside and let Pell hang, so he took that dive into the sea.”

“Did you see Mrs. Jerningham?”

“Yes, I saw her. She made a statement, quite clear and simple. He pushed her in. He’s besotted about the place, and her money was tied up so that she couldn’t get it. But she had a power of appointment under her father’s will, and she had exercised it in his favour. Rafe got twenty thousand, and Dale got the rest. I gather that the rest is a thumping big sum – enough to have kept Tanfield in the family for another generation or two anyhow. Poor girl – I was desperately sorry for her. She didn’t attempt to keep anything back. I expect you’ve noticed that people don’t when they have had a really bad shock. It all came out in a gentle, tired voice – no emotion or anything like that. After he had pushed her into the pool he stood there and told her why he’d done it. He complained about her luck – the drowning episode, and the car smash. You were quite right about those. He boasted about how clever he had been. And he admitted to the murder of Cissie Cole, but I don’t think he boasted about that. I think that hit him pretty hard. Curious, isn’t it – he could kill his wife without a qualm, but I think he was squeamish over having killed Cissie Cole by mistake. The Coles were part of Tanfield, and Tanfield was sacrosanct. I believe he really hated that poor girl his wife, because she had given Cissie Cole her coat and let him in for killing her.”

Miss Silver nodded.

“I should think that extremely likely. A most shocking story, but of great interest. Did you get a statement from Lady Steyne? It seems to me that she has something to explain. She testified that she and Mr. Jerningham were together during the time they were up on Tane Head, did she not?”

“Well, she didn’t quite say that. She hedged a little. When I took her original statement I wondered why she was at so much pains to suggest that she and Dale Jerningham were having an affair. It seemed just a little – unnecessary. I remember that when I asked whether they had been together the whole time she laughed in a conscious sort of way and said she wouldn’t swear that she had never taken her eyes off him, but – well, what did I suppose they had gone up there for – or words to that effect.”

Miss Silver gave a little cough.

“And what does she say now?”

“No more than she can help. It has hit her hard. She says they were together up there, but she missed a diamond and emerald clip she was wearing and they were trying to find it. I ran into her on Tane Head yesterday morning with Rafe Jerningham, and she told us then she had dropped this clip and was looking for it. To go back to Wednesday night – she says they hunted for it for a long time, but the light was bad and they didn’t find it. From time to time they were out of sight of one another. It’s quite plausible, you know – in fact it’s quite likely to be the truth – a little stretched perhaps, but near enough. Dale Jerningham would hardly have pushed that girl over the cliff in the presence of a third person unless she was an accomplice. But an accomplice would mean premeditation, and the whole circumstances at this point make premeditation impossible. No – he must have come on the Cole girl unexpectedly. He would see the tall figure, the fair hair, his wife’s coat, and he must have acted at once under the first shock of an unforseen opportunity. With time to think, the improbability of Mrs. Jerningham being there must have struck him, and the recollection of Pell rushing from the scene would have suggested his mistake. But I don’t believe he had time to think. He had the will to kill his wife. He thought he had the opportunity, and he took it. It was probably all over in a moment. He need not have been out of Lady Steyne’s sight for any longer than she says. What she may have thought or guessed about it all afterwards is another matter.”

“A very shocking story,” said Miss Silver.