Poison in the Pen

CHAPTER 38

Jason Leigh went on up to the Manor. As he came through the hall he saw Scilla Repton. She had put off her scarlet and green tartan and wore a dark skirt and a sweater of greyish blue. The effect was of a light that had been dimmed. Even her hair seemed to have lost some of its brightness. She half passed him, and then turned back again.

“You don’t lose much time!” she said. “I suppose you think you’re going to marry Valentine. And settle down here and let the dullness just soak into you until you die of boredom.”

He laughed.

“The country bores you because you don’t do any of the country things. I shan’t have time to be bored.”

She said, “Oh, well-” And then, “I can’t get out of it quick enough for me.” She went towards the stairs, got as far as the first step, and turned to say over her shoulder, “Are you one of the charming people who think that I poisoned Roger? I didn’t, you know. Foul minds the police have, don’t they?” She shrugged and went on up the stairs, drooping a little.

He went along to the drawing-room, where he found Valentine. They talked about themselves. It was too soon to make plans, but they found that they were making them. Miss Maggie must go on living at the Manor. Impossible to uproot her-impossible and unkind. But she could have her own sitting-room. Once the funeral was over, Scilla wouldn’t want to linger. Coming even closer to him and speaking very low indeed, Valentine said,

“Jason, they don’t really think-they can’t really-”

He said, “I’m afraid they do.”

She caught her breath.

“You don’t mean-they’ll arrest her-”

“I think they may.”

“Jason, do you think-Oh, she couldn’t-not Roger!”

He found himself saying, “No, somehow I don’t. I don’t quite know why. There could be quite a case against her.”

Looking back on it afterwards, that was where a chill discomfort began to invade his mind. It was like sitting in a room with a draught-you didn’t feel it much at first, but you kept on feeling it more and more. It reached the point when he got suddenly to his feet.

“Look here, I’ve got to go. I’ll be back again.”

Valentine hadn’t known him all her life without becoming inured to his being abrupt. She didn’t even say, “Where are you going?” and was rewarded by having the information flung at her as he made for the door.

“I’ll just pick up Miss Silver and walk home with her.”

He ran down the drive, over the bridge from which poor Doris had fallen to her death, and out through the open gates. When he came to the path across the Green he didn’t run but he hurried. It was as he came through the small rustic gate of Willow Cottage that the curtains of Miss Wayne’s sitting-room were run back and the casement window thrown wide. He stepped off the path and looked into the room. Miss Silver, who had opened the window, now had her back to it. Renie Wayne stood in front of the door, her face contorted with fury and her voice shrill. The smell of gas came floating out to meet him. Miss Wayne was saying,

“The gas is turned on in that cupboard and the door is locked. And do you know who I’ve got in there? Do you know who is going to die in there unless you shut that window and draw the curtains and put your hand on the Bible and swear solemnly that you will go away tomorrow and never breathe a word, a single word, about all the stupid, senseless lies you have been making up! It’s no use your looking at me like that, and it’s no use your thinking you can unlock the cupboard and get him out, because I’ve hidden the key, and the door is very strong-you would never get it broken down in time to save him!”

Miss Silver took an almost imperceptible step towards the door. She said in her grave, calm voice,

“To save whom?”

Miss Wayne tittered.

“Why, who should it be except David? Joyce brought him over to see me, and she left him here whilst she went to meet Penny Marsh at the Croft-this stupid idea about taking Connie’s place in the school, when she ought to be grateful to me for a home and doing her best to look after me and make me comfortable! I haven’t been pleased with Joyce for some time and I wanted to punish her, so I turned on the gas and locked David in. But I’ll give you the key to let him out if you’ll promise not to tell about the letters, or Connie, or anything.”

Jason came in through the window on a flying leap. Renie Wayne screamed and went back against the door. When his hands came down upon her shoulders she fought like a cornered rat.

Miss Silver went past them and up the narrow stair. Since Renie Wayne had been alone in the house, what reason would she have to hide the key of any door that she had locked? She hoped and prayed that it would be sticking in the keyhole.

The smell of gas became overpowering as she came up on to the dark landing and switched on the small electric bulb which lighted it. There was a window looking towards Holly Cottage, and she set it wide, her head swimming and her breath catching in her throat. When she had taken a couple of long, deep breaths she turned round with the wind blowing past her. There on the right was the cupboard door, and the key was sticking in the lock. Up to this moment there had been no time to think. She had set herself to come through the gas to the window and to open the cupboard door. She had not let herself think what she might find there.

She opened the door now. It swung outwards.

The cupboard was a deep one, and it was full of shadows. Hardly any light came in from the bulb at the end of the passage. There was a water-cistern like a black rock rising up out of the dark and there was something lying up against it, but she couldn’t see what it was. The gas made her head swim. She felt along the wall for the bracket and turned the tap. Then she went right in, holding her breath, and groping for the thing that was on the floor. Her hand touched something rough, and then the leather handles of a large old-fashioned carpet-bag. She pulled upon them with what seemed to be the last of her strength, and with an unwavering determination to get the bag and its contents into the draught by the open window. The air met her and she struggled towards it with a growing sense of thankfulness. The bag was heavy, but it was not heavy enough to contain the body of David Rodney. She struggled with the straps that fastened it and sank down by the sill. The wind blew round her and her head cleared. The open mouth of the bag disclosed the body of a large tabby cat.

Jason Leigh, taking the stairs three at a time, found her trying to lift Abimelech to meet the air.