Through the Wall

Chapter 30

The interview with Cyril Felton produced very little result. Regarded as a performance, Mr. Felton had profited by his rehearsal. It made the Inspector’s description sound just a little crude. The lack of interest was less obvious. There was no more than a single yawn, carefully suppressed and apologized for with a “Sorry-I was up most of the night.” Pressed as to how well he knew Helen Adrian, he assumed an agreeable frankness.

“Well, you know how it is-you knock up against people. We were in the same concert-party years ago, and we’ve come across each other at intervals on and off. Nothing much in it-always very good friends.”

March said, “Were you lovers?”

“Oh, come, sir!”

“Were you?”

“No. I give you my word of honour we weren’t.”

March wondered how much it was worth.

“Any quarrel with her?”

“Not that I can remember. Nothing to quarrel about.”

“Not a little matter of blackmail?”

Cyril looked horrified.

“Do you mind saying that again?”

“I said blackmail,” said March, watching him.

He saw quite a good reproduction of the stock hero-falsely-accused situation. The slight start, the widened eyes, the squared shoulders, the look of noble scorn-they were all there. He had a feeling that Cyril ought to have been able to make a living on the stage. The tone in which he exclaimed “Blackmail!” was really pretty good.

“That is what I said.”

“But I don’t know what you mean. You can’t suppose-”

“I am afraid I do. Miss Adrian received two letters and a telephone call referring to certain incidents and suggesting that she should pay fifty pounds to prevent her fiancé being informed about them. One of the letters began, ‘F. Brand might prove a firebrand if Fred knew all.’ ”

Cyril raised his eyebrows.

“Poor girl-how very horrid for her.”

“That was the first letter. Then there was a telephone conversation, asking to have fifty pounds in one-pound notes sent to Mr. Friend, 24 Blakeston Road, S.E., and adding, ‘You’ll be sorry if you don’t.’ Miss Adrian lost her temper and told you to go to hell. After which she received another letter, which said, ‘Nasty temper. If you do that again, Fred will know all. What about the middle of last June?’ ”

He met the stare of affronted innocence.

“Look here, what is all this? Where are these letters? If you say I wrote them, I think I’ve got a right to have them shown to me, so that you can compare them with my writing.”

That was the snag-they hadn’t got the letters.

March said firmly, “Miss Adrian was convinced that the letters came from you. One of the incidents referred to was known only to yourself and Felix Brand.”

“Oh, well, everyone knew he would do anything to stop her marrying Mount.”

“So you knew that she was going to marry Mount?”

“Everyone knew she was thinking about it. Everyone knew that Brand was crazy with jealousy.”

March said, “I think you know a good bit yourself, Mr. Felton. But perhaps you don’t know that Helen Adrian informed Miss Silver that you were blackmailing her, that she had made up her mind to leave Cove House on Friday morning and return to town, and that she intended before she left to have an interview with you and offer you ten pounds down. If you boggled at taking it, she intended to threaten you with the police.”

Cyril stared at him.

“This is terrible!”

“It may be-for you. This conversation took place with Miss Silver at the picnic on Thursday evening, just before half past six. Since everybody’s movements have been checked, we know that Miss Adrian did not have that interview with you before half past ten, when the parties in both houses separated for the night. But Miss Adrian had expressed her intention of having that interview. That she had an appointment with someone on the lower terrace between twelve and two that night is certain. You cannot be surprised if we draw the natural inference that the appointment was with you.”

He was dreadfully pale, his hands shook. All pretence at indifference was gone. He stammered out,

“No-no-you’ve got it all wrong. I wouldn’t meet her in the night-why should I? If she wanted to talk to me she could have done it in the train-we were going to travel up together-I had my audition.”

“You say you had arranged to travel up together in the morning?”

“Yes, we had. That is, she asked me at the picnic. She knew I had this audition, and she said she was off in the morning, and why not travel up together. She said she’d got something to talk to me about. But I give you my word I didn’t know she’d got this blackmail idea in her head. Look here, Mr. March, anyone will tell you what sort of terms we were on at the picnic. She was as friendly as possible-anyone will tell you she was. As a matter of fact, she was too friendly for my wife. Ina didn’t like it. She moped like anything-sat by herself and hardly spoke a word. Anyone will tell you that too. Now if she really thought I was blackmailing her, Helen wouldn’t have been like that-I mean, would she? I mean, she couldn’t really have thought I’d do that kind of thing-and if she did, I hadn’t the slightest idea of it. She said she wanted to talk to me, and why not travel up together, and I said, ‘Righty ho.’ And I give you my word that was absolutely all.”

When they had let him go Crisp said with gloom, “If he thought all that up on the spur of the moment he’s a lot cleverer than you’d take him for.”