The Clock Strikes Twelve

Chapter 31

Miss Silver broke the ensuing silence with a little cough.

“Mr. Paradine, can you tell us just what was on the writing-table when you were here on Thursday night?”

A faint surprise showed itself in his face.

“What do you mean?”

She said, “Just try to visualize the table as you saw it then, and tell me as many of the things on it as you can remember.”

His frown this time was one of concentration.

“I don’t know-I wasn’t noticing. I should say it was all very much as it is now.”

“Pray go on, Mr. Paradine. Just name the things. You may find yourself recalling something.”

The frown deepened, contradicted by a half humorous, half impatient lift of the lip. He said,

“Well, all the things you see-inkstand-pen- pencils-blotting-pad-writing-block-”

“That is something which is not here now.”

“The writing-block? He had one in front of him whilst we were talking-I am sure about that. There wasn’t anything written on it.”

“Pray continue.”

“I can’t think of anything else.”

“A calendar? Miss Paradine happened to mention that he always used a plain card calendar.”

Mark shook his head.

“No, there wasn’t any calendar, otherwise I wouldn’t have got out mine. Of course it was the last day of the year. I expect he had thrown the old one away and the new one hadn’t been put out.”

“Was there nothing on this corner of the table between myself and the Superintendent?”

“Only the newspaper.”

Miss Silver said, “Dear me! There was a newspaper all across this corner?”

“Yes-the Times. He must have been reading it.”

“Mr. Paradine, can you remember whether the paper was lying flat? In your recollection would there have been room under it for, let us say, Mr. Wray’s blue-prints? I understand that they were contained in a cardboard cylinder. Would there have been room for it under the newspaper?”

A look of consternation came over his face. His eyes went to Vyner, to the Chief Constable.

“They’re not missing! Was that what my uncle meant?”

Colonel Bostock said,

“Only just occurred to you?”

Mark had made a movement to rise, but it did not get him to his feet. He came down again, leaning forward across the table and looking from one to the other.

Colonel Bostock said sharply,

“Come, Paradine! What did you think your uncle meant by saying one of you had betrayed the family interests? Not a pleasant thing to say-not a pleasant thing to hear. What did you think he meant?”

“He’d missed the prints? It was that?”

“I asked you what you thought at the time, Paradine.”

Mark straightened himself up again.

“I’m sorry, sir. I never thought about the prints.”

“Indeed? Then I’d like to know what you did think.”

Mark was silent for perhaps half a minute. It seemed like a long time. Then he said,

“I’ll tell you, sir. The whole thing was a shock, naturally-not pleasant to listen to, as you say. I never thought about the prints. I didn’t know what to think. I was a good deal taken up with my own affairs, and when I came to think things over I wondered if he was referring to me. It sounds a bit exaggerated, but he always did go off the deep end at the idea of my leaving the firm. The last time we talked about it he said things that weren’t very different to what he said on Thursday night.”

“Remember any of them?”

“Well, he said I was willing to let the firm and the country down to snatch a little tin-pot glory.”

“So you thought it was you he meant on Thursday night?”

Mark shook his head.

“It wasn’t as definite as that. It just seemed to me that everything had boiled over. I felt I couldn’t go on, and I went back to tell him so.”

Colonel Bostock’s eyes held a bright sceptical twinkle.

“And you stick to it that the conversation was a pleasant one?”

The colour came up suddenly in Mark Paradine’s face.

“Well, sir, it was. I got him to understand my point of view. I told you he’d agreed to let me go in a month if I still wanted to.”

“Yes, that’s what you said.” The tone was as sceptical as the look had been.

Mark stiffened noticeably. Vyner said,

“You didn’t know the blue-prints were missing? When did you see them last?”

“I never saw them at all.”

“Sure about that?”

“Quite sure.”

“But you knew about them-you knew Mr. Wray had brought them up?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You were in the late Mr. Paradine’s private office on Thursday afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“At what time, and for how long?”

“I came in with Frank Ambrose a little before four o’clock, and I was there for about a quarter of an hour.”

“And were you alone in the office at any time?”

“Yes. My uncle was away most of the time. Ambrose left before I did. I just waited to see my uncle, then I came away too.”

“Did you notice an attaché case on the office table?”

“Yes, I think so-it would have been there. My uncle used it to take papers to and fro.”

“Did you touch the case?”

Mark frowned.

“I might have done-I was leaning against the table.”

“And what was Mr. Ambrose doing?”

“I really don’t know. We talked a bit.”

“You were leaning against the table. Did you stay like that all the time he was in the room?”

“No-I was over by the window part of the time.”

“What were you doing there?”

“I was looking out. We were killing time-waiting for my uncle. In the end Ambrose didn’t wait for him.”

“Then you had your back to the room for a part of the time?”

“Yes.”

“And after Mr. Ambrose left, you were alone?”

“For a minute or two.”

“You were alone with the attaché case?”

“I was.”

“You might have opened it? Did you open it?”

“Of course not.” The tone was half casual, half scornful.

“You didn’t open the case-you didn’t take the prints?”

“I didn’t even know they had been taken.” Scorn predominated now.

Vyner looked at the Chief Constable. Colonel Bostock said,

“You didn’t know that the prints had been taken. Did you know that they had been put back?”

Mark Paradine’s expression changed. Something broke the stiffness. He leaned forward and said eagerly,

“Have they been put back?”

Colonel Bostock nodded.

“When, sir?”

Miss Silver said,

“That, Mr. Paradine, is what we are trying to find out. We should be glad of your assistance. The prints were contained in a cardboard cylinder. This cylinder was found by Mr. Wray when he entered the study early on Friday morning after being informed of Mr. Paradine’s death. It was then lying on this corner of the table. Do you think it is possible that it was already there when you visited your uncle on Thursday night?”

Mark looked, hesitated, frowned, and said,

“It might have been… But there must be fingerprints-if you’ve got the cylinder, there’ll be the prints of the person who took it.”

He turned from one to the other, and got a very straight look from Vyner.

“I’m not saying anything about the prints on the cylinder, Mr. Paradine.”

Mark pushed back his chair and stood up.

“Well, you wouldn’t get any of mine on it,” he said.