Miss Silver Deals With Death

CHAPTER 36

Mrs. Smollett dropped in at No. 1 at about the same time that Sergeant Abbott was pressing the bell at No. 7. Ostensibly she came to enquire whether Miss Crane had ordered the primrose soap, “because if not, I could just as easy drop in and get it on my way home and bring it along in the morning,” but actually she was bursting with importance at having been called in a second time by the Chief Inspector and she wanted to talk about it.

Miss Crane, with her old lady resting for the afternoon, was all ears and attention.

“And of course they told me not to talk. The p’lice always do, and I wonder what they think you are-mummies in a museum or what? After all, yuman beings are yuman beings, and if they’ve got tongues I suppose they were meant to use them. Not to say nothing to nobody was what the Inspector says- and of course I wouldn’t, not to anyone that matters-I’m not one to talk, as you know.”

“Oh, no,” Miss Crane agreed. “And of course I shouldn’t dream of letting it go any farther.”

Mrs. Smollett nodded,

“I know that. Well, between you and me it’s Miss Garside they’ve got their eye on, and I’ll tell you why. You know that ring she wears-the one with the big diamond?”

Miss Crane looked disappointed.

“No-I don’t think so-”

They were in the kitchenette, Mrs. Smollett leaning against the dresser, the kettle just beginning to sing on the stove, and Miss Crane fussing with the teacups.

“Well, you wouldn’t,” said Mrs. Smollett indulgently. “She’s one of the particular ones, Miss Garside-always puts on her gloves before she comes out of the flat and doesn’t take them off again until she gets back. Well, this ring has got just the one diamond in it, a big one, and she wears it all the time. First thing I noticed when Miss Roland come she’d got just such another, and so I told her when I was doing her room. “Funny thing, isn’t it,” I says, “you and Miss Garside having these two rings as like as two peas?” And about a week later she told me she had seen Miss Garside’s ring and I was quite right. It was the time Miss Garside’s furniture was took away, and she was out on the landing and Miss Roland come past and seen the ring on her hand. Well, the Inspector, he has me in, and he hands me a ring and says, ‘Ever seen that before, Mrs. Smollett?’And I say’s, ‘Every day of my life.’ And then he says, ‘Whose ring is it?’ and I tell him it’s Miss Garside’s. Well, he says how do I know that, and I tell him, well, I ought to, seeing I’ve had it under my nose every day for a good five years. And he asks if I know Miss Roland’s got one like it, and I says of course. And, ‘Would you know them apart?’ he says, and I tells him, ‘Of course! Many’s the time I’ve had Miss Roland’s ring in my hand, and it’s got initials in it-an M and a B. Some kind of a family ring, she told me it was.’ And then he said I could go, and not to talk about it.”

Miss Crane had been listening with her hands clasped and her mouth open.

“Oh!” she breathed. “Oh, Mrs. Smollett-what do you think it means-about the rings? It seems so strange-”

Mrs. Smollett tossed her head.

“Don’t ask me to say what it means, Miss Crane. Least said soonest mended to my way of thinking. I’m not saying anything nor suspecting anyone, but if it was my ring that was in a murdered person’s flat instead of the one that ought by rights to be there, well, I wouldn’t be feeling too comfortable in my inside. And there’s something I can tell you, Miss Crane, only don’t you let it go any further. When Miss Garside come in with her shopping-basket this morning, there was Mrs. Lemming coming out of her flat. You know they’re a bit friendly, her and Miss Garside, so they stopped and talked and I could hear what was said. And Mrs. Lemming, she asks Miss Garside, ‘What was you doing last night?’ she says. ‘Three times I tried to get you on the telephone between half past eight and nine, and no reply,’ she says. And Miss Garside-well, I thought she looked funny, and she said she’d been down to see Bell about a washer. And Mrs. Lemming laughs-and not what I’d call a very pleasant laugh neither-and she says, ‘You’d have to go a bit further than the basement to find Bell if it was after half past eight. Down at that pub of his, that’s where you’d have to go to find him anywhere between half past eight and half past nine. And unless that’s what you did, it wouldn’t take you the best part of half an hour, my dear.’ And Miss Garside says quick, ‘Half an hour? What do you mean?’ And Mrs. Lemming says, ‘Well, I rang you at five-and-twenty to nine, and at twenty to, and soon after the quarter, and I couldn’t get any answer.’ And Miss Garside she says the bell couldn’t have rung, and off up the stairs without waiting for the lift. Funny, wasn’t it? Tisn’t as if she might have run down to the post either, because everyone knows she wouldn’t put her foot outside in the black-out, not if it was ever so. But there-it doesn’t do to go saying things, does it, Miss Crane?”

“No, indeed.” Miss Crane was earnest in agreement.

“And I haven’t mentioned it to anyone but you, if it wasn’t for the little governess person that’s staying with Mrs. Underwood. Very friendly kind of person she is-give me a hand with the washing-up after lunch and we got talking. And she says just what you and me’s been saying-you’ve to be careful how you talk with the police about. But you can’t help what you think-can you?”

Miss Crane looked distressed.

“Appearances are often so misleading-”

“Let’s us ’ope so,” said Mrs. Smollett, and departed.

It being Packer’s afternoon out, Miss Crane went on making tea for her old lady.