The Gazebo

TWENTY-NINE

GROVE HILL HOUSE was well staffed, though none of the staff slept in. The parlourmaid who opened the door to Detective Inspector Abbott and Detective Inspector Sharp had been in very good service before her marriage. Now that she was a widow she had gone back to the work for which she had been trained. Her two children were in their teens and her mother lived with her, so that the arrangement worked smoothly enough. She got good wages and all her meals. She could say that for Mrs Harrison, there was always plenty in the house and you could help yourself. Of course it wasn’t like working for a real lady, but the money was good, and Mr Harrison was a nice quiet gentleman if ever there was one. She showed the two policemen into the drawing-room and went to tell Mrs Harrison.

Ella Harrison took her time. When she came into the drawing-room Frank Abbott was immediately aware that there had been a fresh application of powder and lipstick. He has been credited with more cousins than anyone in England, and as the usual proportion of these were female and young, there was very little he did not know about the gentle art of making up. His standards were of necessity a good deal more indulgent than those of the Miss Pimms, but he certainly thought that Mrs Harrison should exercise greater restraint. Her hair, even if the colour were natural, would be on the noticeable side, and natural it certainly was not. Combined with mascara, eyeshadow and a particularly vivid lipstick, it was altogether too much of a good thing. She might have carried it off in black, or brown, or navy, but not, definitely not, in a plaid skirt and a twin set in a lively shade of emerald. It was his first meeting with her, Sharp having made the original inquiries to check up on Nicholas Carey’s movements. On that occasion both she and Jack Harrison had replied that they had gone to bed early, and that they had no idea of the time of Carey’s return. Since none of the staff slept in the house, that appeared to be that.

They were now here on a totally different errand. The lady was said to have an inflammable temper. Rumours as to some of its more violent manifestations had not been wanting. The story of the broken mirror had reached Detective Inspector Sharp. He hoped that there wasn’t going to be any unpleasantness.

Ella Harrison did not offer to shake hands. She did not even ask them to sit down. Frank Abbott thought they might have been travelling salesmen whom she had no wish to encourage. Yet she had taken the trouble to touch up her face. Sharp looked at him, and he took the lead.

‘Mrs Harrison, we have called in connexion with the loss of a stone from a diamond ring. You have recently lost such a stone, have you not?’

She looked from one to the other.

‘Why, yes – how did you know? I haven’t reported it.’

He said easily,

‘These things get about. The fact is a stone has been found. If it is the one you have missed from your ring you might be able to identify it.’

‘If it is mine I should be very glad to get it back.’

‘Perhaps you will let us see the ring. You are not wearing it?’

There was the ruby and diamond ring which had been mentioned on her left hand, with a less valuable pearl and diamond ring above it. On her right hand there was one ring only, sapphires and diamonds.

She said, ‘No – I thought the other stones might be loose,’ and went out of the room.

There was some strain, some tension – she wasn’t easy. She came back with the ring.

There was a small table standing in the window. It was an old piece with a walnut top and a wreath of flowers inlaid about the edge. They were very beautifully worked in different coloured woods. The centre of the table was plain. When she came back into the room with the ring in her hand the lost diamond lay on the table, right in the middle where the dark wood showed it up. Frank Abbott put out his hand for the ring, and she let him have it. He picked up the stone and fitted it back into the place from which it had come. There could be no doubt that it was the place from which it had come. The stones were very fine. They were of an equal size, an equal lustre. They could hardly have been better matched. Frank Abbott said,

‘I am afraid I shall have to ask you to let us take charge of the ring. I will give you a receipt for it.’ He was putting it away as he spoke in the cardboard box which had held the stone.

Mrs Harrison’s colour had risen. She said,

‘Here, what do you want with that ring? It’s mine, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, we’re not disputing that. The ring and the stone are both undoubtedly yours. By the way, have you any idea where you dropped that diamond?’

‘Not the slightest. Where was it found?’

Detective Inspector Sharp stood by, and was glad that he had not had to come alone. Abbott was answering her in that la-di-da way he had.

‘We were rather hoping that you might have something to tell us about that.’

‘Well, I haven’t.’

He let her have it then, short and sharp.

‘It was found in the gazebo at The Lodge.’

It was a blow – you could see that. She blinked the way a man does when he has been hit. It was a blow and it rocked her, but she got herself in hand again. She said in a sharp, steady voice,

‘In the gazebo at the Grahams’? I don’t see…’

‘No? Well, that is where it was found. Perhaps you can tell us when you were last there.’

She was recovering.

‘Oh, I don’t know… I’m often at The Lodge… I play bridge there.’

Frank’s eyebrows rose.

‘In the gazebo?’

‘Of course not! But we don’t play till after tea – I might have gone up to look at the view.’

‘Can you remember that you did so?’

‘Not specially. We were in the garden one day last week – it might have been then.’

‘Mrs Harrison, Miss Lily Pimm states that there was no stone missing from your ring on Tuesday evening when you were playing bridge at the house of some people named Reckitts.’

She gave an exasperated laugh.

‘Oh, Lily Pimm – if you’re going to take what she says!’

‘Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?’

Her foot tapped the carpet.

‘Only that she’s barmy – that’s all.’

‘She appears to be an exact and accurate observer. She told us that she admires your rings very much and always notices them. She is positive that on Tuesday all the stones were present in the five-stone diamond ring. When she met you next day on the ten o’clock bus and you took off your glove to find some change for the fare she noticed at once that one of the stones was missing. She says she pointed this out to you, and you were very much upset and said you didn’t know that the stone was gone.’

The colour which Ella Harrison had applied was reinforced by an angry flush.

‘Of course I knew it was gone! It had been missing for days!’

‘And you continued to wear the ring?’

‘I always wear it!’

‘It didn’t occur to you that the other stones might be loose?’

‘No, it didn’t!’

‘But you told us just now that it was for this reason that you were not wearing the ring.’

Her eyes were bright with anger.

‘I didn’t think of it at first, and then I did! Any objection to that?’

‘When did you first notice that the stone was gone?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Think carefully, Mrs Harrison. This seems to be a valuable ring. Since you wear it always, it must be valuable to you. When you discovered that one of the stones was missing you would naturally be upset.’

‘Anyone would be!’

‘I quite agree with you. It is an unpleasant thing to happen. You would naturally speak about it to your maid – ask her to look for it very carefully in case it had dropped in the house.’

‘Well, I didn’t!’

Her foot was tapping again. If he would only stop these questions and give her time to think. He didn’t give her a moment. He went on,

‘It would seem to have been the natural thing to do.’

‘Well then, it wasn’t! I knew I hadn’t dropped it in the house.’

‘May I ask how you knew that?’

She had to make up her mind quickly. When you hadn’t time to think you had to do what you could and chance your luck. She said,

‘Because I knew the ring was all right when I went out.’

‘Oh, you have remembered which day you missed the stone?’

She said smoothly,

‘It must have been the last time I went to the Grahams’, if that was where it was found.’

Frank said, ‘Yes,’ and gave it a moment to sink in before he went on, ‘The last time you went to the Grahams’ – that would be on Tuesday after the bridge party at the Reckitts’?’

‘What are you trying to make me say? I wasn’t anywhere near them on Tuesday evening! It was the week before – Wednesday or Thursday, I don’t remember which. I was there to tea, and Mrs Graham took me into the garden afterwards to show me some plant or other.’

‘Who else was there?’

‘No one. It was just Mrs Graham and me.’

‘I thought you said you played bridge after tea.’

‘I couldn’t have. There wasn’t anyone to play with – even Thea was out. We were in the garden.’

‘Did you say you went up into the gazebo?’

‘Yes, I did. Mrs Graham wanted me to see the view.’

‘She didn’t go with you?’

‘No.’

‘And when you came home and discovered that a stone out of your ring was missing you would naturally make inquiries as to whether you had dropped it at the Grahams’?’

She met his searching look with a hardy one.

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Curious that Mrs Graham should not have mentioned the fact to her daughter.’

‘I suppose she forgot. She wasn’t really interested in anything that didn’t happen to herself.’

‘You didn’t mention the loss of the stone to your maid, and Mrs Graham didn’t mention it to her daughter. Quite a coincidence, isn’t it? I suppose you mentioned the loss to your husband?’

If Jack had been out – if she could have been certain of the opportunity of telling him what to say – but he was in the study – she couldn’t be certain of anything. She took the next best chance and said,

‘I didn’t want him to know. It’s a ring from his side of the family. He gave it to me when we were married.’

Frank thought, ‘She’s lying all along the line.’ Out loud he said,

‘You are quite sure about these dates, Mrs Harrison?’

‘I’m not sure whether it was Wednesday or Thursday when I went to the Grahams’ – Wednesday or Thursday last week.’

‘But you are sure that it was last week?’

‘Quite sure.’

‘And that that was when you lost the stone out of your ring?’

‘Yes.’

‘Mrs Harrison, Miss Pimm is extremely definite in stating that she saw that ring on your right hand at the Reckitts bridge party, and that all the stones were there. She says she counted them.’

Ella Harrison’s blazing anger broke. Her furious voice leapt at them.

‘Then she’s a damned liar as well as a damned fool! Anyone – anyone with a grain of sense could see what she and her sisters are – spiteful old maids with nothing to do but gather up gossip and peddle it round to a lot of credulous nitwits who don’t know any better than to lap it up! Just try putting your Lily Pimm in the box and see what kind of shape she’d be in by the time a lawyer had finished with her! You just try it!’

There were a number of unprintable words in this speech. Some shocked Inspector Sharp a good deal, coming from a lady in Mrs Harrison’s position. In court he might have characterized them as obscene. In his own mind he set them down as low. He really wondered where she had picked them up.

Frank Abbott, waiting until she was done, saw the door open behind her and Mr Harrison come into the room – a small quiet man with greying hair and a patient look about the eyes. He said, ‘What is the matter?’ and Ella Harrison whirled round upon him.

‘I’m being insulted, that’s what! A pretty state of things when the police come tramping into your drawing-room without a with your leave or by your leave and insult you!’ She swung back again.

‘Perhaps you’ll be a bit more careful what you say now my husband’s here – bursting in and calling me a liar in my own house!’

Jack Harrison stood where he was. He had a certain half bewildered dignity as he said,

‘Perhaps someone will tell me what is going on.’

Frank Abbott told him quietly and succinctly. The air of bewilderment deepened.

‘A stone from my wife’s ring – in the gazebo at The Lodge? Are you sure there is no mistake? But she was wearing the ring on Tuesday evening – I saw it myself. There was no stone missing then.’

The fool – the immeasurable fool! Just for a moment she couldn’t think – speak – move.

Frank Abbott said,

‘Are you sure about that?’

Jack Harrison said, ‘Oh, yes.’ He was neither quick nor clever. He found the situation confusing. His wife’s anger daunted him. He steadied himself on the plain question of fact. Ella couldn’t have dropped a stone out of her ring last week, because she was wearing it at the Reckitts’ on Tuesday. He said so, repeating himself as he was rather inclined to do.

‘Oh, yes, it was all right when we were at the Reckitts’. We were playing at the same table for part of the time. It’s a beautiful ring, and I noticed it particularly. The stones came from Golconda. A great-uncle of mine brought them home and had them cut. They are well matched. They were certainly all there on Tuesday.’

Ella Harrison had been going back step by step.

It was a purely instinctive movement. In a moment she would think of something to say, to do. The moment wasn’t yet. She would have to wait for it. She went back until the fireplace brought her up short. There was a Sèvres jar in the middle of the mantelpiece with a delicate china figure on either side of it. Eighteenth-century figures – a lady in a hooped skirt with powdered hair, a gentleman in a brocaded coat with red heels to his shoes. She picked up the lady by her slender neck and slung her at Jack Harrison.