The Clock Strikes Twelve

Chapter 38

Emerging from the dining-room, Miss Silver was aware of Mark Paradine on the stairs. He was coming down two steps at a time. He looked like a man driven hard on a road which is none of his choosing. Until Miss Silver pronounced his name, which she did very clearly, it is to be doubted whether he was aware of her presence. In the concentration of his mind upon its own bitter thoughts he might very well have brushed against her as he passed without noticing that she was there. But her “Mr. Mark-” halted him. He turned, looked vaguely in her direction for a moment, and came to.

“Oh-Miss Silver! Did you want me?”

“Just for a moment, if you will be so good.”

After a brief pause of indecision, during which he was remembering painfully that the police were in the study, he opened the first door on the left-hand side of the hall and ushered her into the billiard room, an enormous room with half-drawn blinds and the hot, stuffy feeling of a heated place to which no fresh air has been admitted. Miss Silver thought it a very fine room, but she would have liked to open a window. This not being the moment for such digressions, she gave her whole attention to the matter in hand. But before she had time to speak Mark said in hard, flat tones,

“Well-are they going to arrest me?”

“Are you not rather jumping to conclusions?”

“I think not. I don’t quite see how they can help it. The only question seems to be whether it will be before lunch or afterwards. My uncle’s solicitor, Mr. Harrison, is coming in to see the safe opened at half past two. I thought they might wait till then, though I really don’t know why they should. As far as I know, the only things he kept there were a few private papers and my aunt’s diamonds.” Miss Silver displayed interest. “The ones she is wearing in the portrait?” They had remained standing. Mark leaned against the near end of the billiard table, hands driven deep into his pockets. He nodded.

“That’s it. Nobody’s worn them since she died. They ought to have been in the bank, but he liked having them handy. He used to take them out and look at them. I found him doing it one night, and he told me all about them-what he’d paid for them, how much they’d risen in value, and how well Aunt Clara had looked in them.”

Miss Silver picked out the word value and repeated it with a slight monitory cough.

“They must be of considerable value, Mr. Mark.”

“I suppose they are-” His voice was wearily indifferent.

Miss Silver coughed again.

“To whom are they left?”

“They are divided between my cousin Richard and myself.”

Miss Silver appeared preoccupied. She said,

“They will be valued for probate. Would you object to an earlier valuation?”

“I? Why should I? I don’t take any interest one way or the other.”

She hesitated very slightly.

“Then you would have no objection to a valuer being present when the safe is opened?”

She saw his face change. Eyes and mind seemed to focus upon her for the first time.

“What for?” His voice had a startled sound.

She said gravely,

“Mr. Paradine was murdered. I am not yet sure of the motive behind the murder.”

“I thought you said Elliot’s blue-prints had been taken.”

“They were taken-and they were put back again. The only time that they could have been replaced was between nine and a quarter past. The only person who had an opportunity of replacing them was Miss Paradine. I conclude that it was she who took them. But I do not know whether she returned later and caused her brother’s death by pushing him over the parapet.”

Mark’s hands came out of his pockets. He stood up straight.

“What are you saying? What possible motive-”

“She wished to make a complete breach with Mr. Wray. She expected this to follow upon the loss of the blue-prints. I imagine that it might very easily have done so. The thing she wishes most in the world is to prevent a reconciliation between Mr. and Mrs. Wray.”

Mark looked at her in horror, but it was the horror, not of incredulity, but of most unwilling conviction. He got out a handkerchief, wiped a sweating brow, and said,

“Did she-do it?”

“I have told you that I do not know. She had a very strong motive-her brother knew what she had done. If he chose he could ruin her credit with the family. You are in a position to know what that would mean to her.”

He said, “For God’s sake don’t! It’s too horrible. She couldn’t have done it!”

Miss Silver glanced at him compassionately.

“Then we must look for another motive in some other person. Will you tell me what Mr. Paradine said to you when you entered the study on Thursday night?”

He appeared surprised, startled, relieved.

“How do you mean?”

“I want to know what he said when he saw you.”

Mark frowned. A spark of comprehension came and went, a muscle twitched in his cheek. He said,

“How do you know?”

Miss Silver smiled.

“He said the same thing to three other people who went to see him that night. I was curious to know whether he also said it to you. Now will you tell me what he said?”

Mark went back a step. He took hold of the edge of the table above the corner pocket and gripped it hard.

“He asked me if I had come to confess.”

Miss Silver beamed.

“That is just what I thought. He addressed the same remark to Mr. Pearson, and, separately, to Mr. and Mrs. Wray.”

“Why?”

Miss Silver coughed.

“According to Mr. Wray, Mr. Paradine was enjoying the situation he had created. To a man of his ironical turn of mind there would be entertainment in watching the response to a question of this nature. He had just startled you all very much by saying that one of you had betrayed the family interests. He had in mind the theft of the blue-prints, but only one of those present would be aware of this. I believe that one to have been Miss Paradine. The rest could not know what he meant-they could only surmise. It is, unfortunately, true that most people have something to hide. There are privacies of the heart and mind. There are dilemmas, faults, failings, sins, which we would not willingly expose to view. Mr. Paradine’s accusation shocked more than the criminal into a hasty search of conduct and conscience. I wonder how many confessions were made on that Thursday night. I think you made one, did you not? I think it was very kindly received. But suppose, Mr. Mark, that one of the confessions he invited was of such a nature that it could not be made without ruin? Why, then we would have a second motive for the murder. That is what I meant when I said that we must ascertain whether there was anyone who had such a motive-anyone, that is, other than Miss Paradine. We know what her motive was. If she did not murder her brother, there must be someone else with a motive as strong or stronger. To find the murderer we must find that motive. It may not even exist-there may be no other motive. But the fact that these very valuable diamonds were kept in the house does suggest a possible motive. Since every possibility should be explored, I suggest that these jewels should be examined by a competent person. Do you happen to know whether there is a detailed list of them, and where Mr. Paradine would have been likely to keep it?”

Still in that indifferent manner, Mark said, “The list is in the safe. I don’t think there’s an earthly chance that anything is missing. My uncle was always having the things out to look at-he liked handling them. We’ll have a valuer in if you want one, but he won’t find anything wrong. You’ll have to look somewhere else for your motive, and the police aren’t going to look any farther than me. If you ask me, they’ll arrest me just as soon as Harrison tells them the extent to which I benefit under my uncle’s will. I get about three quarters of everything, you know-Uncle James’ idea of supporting the family dynasty. That’s the sort of motive a policeman likes-plain straightforward murder for a sizable lump of cash. Just as soon as it occurs to them to ask Harrison about the terms of the will my number will be up. They’ll probably let me open the safe before they arrest me, but that’s about as much rope as I’ll get. It’s now half past twelve-Harrison is to be here at half past two. I’ve got about two hours. Any suggestions as to what I should do with them?”

Miss Silver chose to regard this as a pleasantry, though as a rule pleasantries are not delivered in so bitter a tone. She smiled and said,

“I think you might find it helpful to talk the matter over with Miss Pennington.”