The Catherine Wheel

CHAPTER 35

It was the police who had found her getting on for an hour later. She had gone over the cliff at its highest point, about a hundred yards beyond the hotel. She had fallen upon the rocks, and must have been killed immediately. The body had not been in the water, since this heaped and tumbled mass of rocks was covered only at the highest tides. She was wearing what she had worn the night before, the brightly flowered dress of artificial silk, the silk stockings, and indoor shoes. One of the shoes had come off and had been caught up on a small straggling bush about half way down.

A little later in Castell’s office Inspector Crisp was giving it as his opinion that it was a plain case of suicide, and that in the circumstances it was as good as a confession to the murder of Luke White.

“Clears the whole thing up, if you ask me. Can’t see any reason for putting the other inquest off myself, but the Chief Constable seems to think it would be better.”

Frank Abbott nodded.

“Yes-I think so.”

“Well, I can’t see it myself. But there, I’m not the Chief Constable-as I expect you were going to say.” He laughed quite good-humouredly.

Miss Silver, who had so far contributed nothing to the conversation, now gave a slight dry cough. Frank Abbott turned his head as if expecting her to speak, but she did not do so. For the moment her eyes were upon her knitting. The blue dress approached completion. He turned back to Crisp.

“You are satisfied that it was suicide?”

Crisp made a gesture.

“What else? She killed Luke White-jealousy over that girl Eily-and when I rang her up and told her she would have to identify the body she got the wind up. Wouldn’t face it-went and chucked herself over the cliff. “ He gazed complacently at the London man who couldn’t see a simple solution when he’d got it right under his nose. “Psychology,” he said-“that’s what you’ve got to bear in mind, especially when you’re dealing with women. This Florence Duke-you’ve got to put yourself in her place, look at it from her point of view. She was jealous of Eily Fogarty. This Luke White, he’d got the name for being able to get round any woman, and by all accounts he got round a good few of them. He got round Florence Duke, married her, and left her. Then she comes here and finds him making love to this girl Eily. On her own admission she went down to meet him the night he was murdered, and she was found practically standing over the body with his blood on her hands. Well, a woman will stab a man she’s been fond of if she’s jealous enough. But this is where psychology comes in. She’s done the murder when she was all worked up, but when she’s told she’s got to come in cold blood and look at the corpse she just can’t face it-she goes and chucks herself over the cliff. That’s psychology.”

Miss Silver laid her knitting down in her lap and coughed again.

“That would be one explanation, Inspector, but it is not the only one.”

Crisp looked hard at her.

“Look here, Miss Silver, you were the last person to see Florence Duke or to have any conversation with her. Was she, or was she not, in a state of nervous depression?”

“I have already told you that she was.”

“She was nervous and depressed because she knew she had got to see her husband’s body and give evidence at the inquest?”

“She was frightened and nervous about the identification. I would remind you, Inspector, that I had particularly desired she should not be told until this morning that she would have to identify the body.”

Crisp frowned.

“I thought it best to let her know. Now, Miss Silver-are you prepared to state that there was nothing in Mrs. Duke’s conversation or behaviour to support the idea of suicide?”

Miss Silver looked at him in a candid manner and said,

“No.”

“Then I think I have a right to ask you what she did say.”

Miss Silver said gravely,

“She spoke of her married life. It was obviously very much on her mind. She spoke of there being things which she could not forget. When I warned her that she might be in danger and begged her to let Captain Taverner take her to a place of safety for the night-”

He interrupted forcibly.

“You did that?”

She inclined her head.

“I am thankful to be able to recall that I did. She would not listen to me. She said she did not care. She went so far as to say, ‘If someone was to bring me a good glass of poison this minute, I’d drink it.’ ”

Crisp brought his fist down with a bang on the table.

“That’s all I want, thank you, and that’s all the jury will want! Short of someone seeing her go over the cliff it’s all anyone could want!”

Miss Silver coughed.

“I wish to be perfectly fair, and I have told you what the poor woman said. But I did not believe at the time, nor do I believe now, that she had any serious intention of taking her own life. She was in the mood to wish herself dead as an alternative to the painful position in which she found herself, but I have to state that I do not believe she committed suicide. I believe that she was murdered.”

Crisp threw himself back in his chair.

“Come, come, Miss Silver, you can’t expect us to swallow that! On your own showing Mrs. Duke locked herself into her room last night. You left your own door open, and you say that you are a very light sleeper and that the slightest noise in the passage would have waked you, yet you heard nothing. Are you going to ask us to believe that someone got into Mrs. Duke’s room, overpowered her, got her downstairs, and threw her over the cliff, all without making any sound at all?”

“No, Inspector.”

He went on in a tone flavored with contempt.

“To start with, according to you she had her key in the door, so no other key could have been used from the outside. To go on with, she walked down that passage on her own feet. There was powder spilt there, and she had walked through it-her stockings were full of the stuff. Look here, it’s simple enough what she did. She knew you were watching her, and she meant to give you the slip. You say you went over to the bathroom to wash. Well, as soon as you’d gone she unlocked her door, locked it again on the outside in case you tried the handle, took her shoes in her hand, and went off along the passage and down the stairs in her stocking feet. That’s how she picked up the powder. Castell found the back door unlocked this morning, so that’s how she got out of the house. Then all she’d got to do was walk up the hill to the top of the cliff and throw herself over. And to cap it all, there’s the missing key in her pocket. It’s as plain as a pikestaff.”

Miss Silver coughed, but she had no time to do more, for at that moment the door opened and the Chief Constable came into the room.