Miss Silver Comes To Stay

CHAPTER 21

Mr. Holderness sat back in his chair. His florid colour stood high, but the black brows which made such a handsome contrast with his thick grey hair were drawn together in a frowning line, and the eyes they shaded had a worried look. It had become more and more pronounced as Carr’s story proceeded. He drew in his breath now and let it out again in gusty protest.

“My dear Carr!”

Carr’s lip twitched.

“Damnable-isn’t it?”

Mr. Holderness drummed on his knee with big white fingers.

“You realize, of course, that if all this comes out, you’ll be in very serious danger of arrest.”

“I’ve done nothing else but realize it.”

“Of course there is no reason why it should all come out.”

“How do you mean?”

“Who knows that you went up to Melling House last night? How many people have you told?”

Carr jerked a shoulder.

“Rietta- Elizabeth -you-”

“Then don’t tell anyone else. They must hold their tongues, and you must hold yours.”

He said slowly, “I’m not sure about that.”

“You’d better be.”

“I’m not sure. You see, they know Rietta was there-they’ll say she had a motive. She went up to warn him that I’d found out about him and Marjory. He told her some cock-and-bull story to soothe her down. Then he produced a will he had made in her favour when they were engaged-and Mrs. Mayhew was listening at the door! She heard him say, ‘If young Carr murders me tonight, you’ll come in for a tidy fortune.’ That puts it fair and square on Rietta-or me. If I back out, it just leaves Rietta. Besides, everything else apart, Fancy will tell them about my recognizing his photograph and slamming off in a blazing rage.”

Mr. Holderness set his jaw in a very obstinate manner.

“There will be time enough for you to commit suicide if it proves that Rietta is in real danger. I really must insist that you hold your tongue.”

Carr cocked an eyebrow.

“Suicide?”

Mr. Holderness stared at him angrily.

“You might just as well, if you propose to tell the police, firstly, that you recognized James Lessiter’s portrait last night as that of the man who seduced and deserted your wife, and secondly, that you were present on the scene of the crime at or about the time it was committed. You can do as you like, but I refuse to be associated with any such folly. Rietta is not, to my mind, in anything like so serious a position as you are. No one who knew her would believe that she would commit a sordid crime for money.”

Carr gave a half absent nod, and then came out with,

“I wonder who did do it-”

The large, well kept hand rose and fell upon Mr. Holderness’s knee.

“James Lessiter had made a great deal of money. That kind of fortune is often made at the expense of somebody else. It seems improbable to me that it was a local crime, though quite possibly pains may have been taken to make it look like one. I wonder, now, whether there is anything missing. I had a very careful inventory taken after Mrs. Lessiter’s death. I think the first thing for me to do will be to communicate with the police and suggest that they should check on it. There were some valuable things in that house. If any of them are missing-well, that will be something for the police to follow up. And meanwhile I insist that you keep your own counsel. If you are asked to make a statement you will say that, acting under the advice of your solicitor, you prefer to say nothing until the inquest. That will give me time to find out how the land lies.”

Carr nodded briefly, his mind elsewhere. He appeared to be debating something. An air of hesitation in the end resolved itself. He said,

“Do you know anything about Cyril Mayhew?”

The hand on Mr. Holderness’s knee jumped slightly.

“Why do you ask that?”

“Idle curiosity. I asked Rietta about him the other day, and she shied off the subject. What has he been up to?”

“I believe he has been in trouble.”

“With the police?”

“I am afraid so. He was bound over.”

“What has he done?”

“Theft from his employer, I believe. The Mayhews felt it very much. It’s hard when an only son goes wrong. They are most respectable people.”

“Only children get spoilt. Cyril was a horrid little squirt.”

“Parents are often extremely unwise. What made you ask about Cyril Mayhew?”

Carr looked at the ceiling.

“Nothing-except that I saw him at Lenton station last night.”

Mr. Holderness knit his brows.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Did you speak to him?”

“No. I only saw him by accident. He got out of the last carriage and cut away behind the booking-office. It didn’t strike me he wanted to be spoken to. I’ve been wondering if he went home last night.”

Mr. Holderness said,

“I think we will ask the police.”