The Gazebo

THIRTY-SEVEN

IT TOOK QUITE a lot to startle Frank Abbott, but at this he pulled himself up in his chair and said,

‘What?’

Miss Silver reproved him with a glance and repeated her remark.

‘I believe he may have wished to dig in the garden.’

‘My dear ma’am!’

‘Or in the gazebo. Yes, I think it would probably be in the gazebo.’

She laid down the almost completed vest and took out of her knitting-bag that copy of the Rev. Thomas Jenkinson’s book which had engaged her interest. There was a neat white marker between the pages, so that it opened readily at the chapter on Grove Hill. She handed the volume to Frank, directing his attention to the paragraph which dealt with the Gordon Riots. Reading on, he would come naturally to the passage which had been marked by a faint underlining. Whilst his attention was engaged with the narrative she returned to her knitting and remained in silence. She could have guessed the moment when he reached the description of the unfortunate Mr Warren’s last moments. At the report of the Physician who was Mr D – L -’s brother his colourless eyebrows rose, but he read on to the end without speaking. Then, and not till then, he said across the open page, and quoting from it,

‘ “The dying man constantly muttered to himself some such phrase as, ‘The gold is safe,’ or, ‘I have saved the gold.’ ” This, I suppose, is the nub of the whole thing, the gold being presumably the gold Plate which is mentioned as being of great value. All very interesting, my dear ma’am, but highly speculative. Where did you come across this book?’

‘Althea Graham told me that her father had been much interested in the early history of Grove Hill. She spoke of some connexion with the Gordon Riots and told me her father’s books were in the attic, and that an account of the Riots was to be found in one of them. When I had a little time on my hands I looked for the volume and found it.’

‘That accounts for your being informed about the last moments of the unfortunate Mr Warren. But how do you suggest that Blount and Worple got to know about them?’

‘My dear Frank, Mr Worple was the stepson of the late Mr Martin whose own son, the present Mr Martin, is the leading house-agent in Grove Hill. In a conversation I had with him this morning he told me that his grandfather had founded the firm, and that his father had been much interested in local history and had possessed a copy of Mr Jenkinson’s book. Since this was the case, Mr Worple would have had access to it. This passage might well catch his imagination. Just what brought it to the forefront of his mind we have no means of knowing, nor just why he should have passed on his thoughts and speculations on the subject to Mr Blount, but…’

Frank Abbott threw the book down open on to the dining-table.

‘You know, I’m not at all sure you haven’t got something there. At least you may have one bit and I’ve got another. You didn’t ask me what Blount’s job was, apart from associating with crooks and keeping a second-hand shop, but it may have a considerable bearing.’

‘He had a job?’

‘A more or less hereditary one.’

‘My dear Frank!’

‘Well, his mother came from a Sussex village, a little place called Cleat. Apparently Blount used to spend a lot of time down there with his grandfather, who was the last of a highly respected line of – what do you think? I give you three guesses.’

She smiled.

‘I think you had better tell me.’

He said,

‘Dowsers. And I won’t insult you by asking whether that means anything to you or not.’

She said sedately,

‘Water diviners, are they not?’

He nodded.

‘Grandfather Pardue was highly skilled at the job. He operated all over Sussex. If your well went dry you asked him to come and find you another. Or if you wanted to build, he could tell you if there was likely to be a water supply on the spot. Quite a famous old boy in his way, and he taught his grandson. We got all this from the Sussex locals. They say Blount lapped it up and is almost as good as the old man was. He charges quite a tidy fee, and he still gets called in.’

Miss Silver said in a thoughtful tone,

‘It used to be considered a mere country superstition. I believe a forked stick is employed, preferably hazel. It is supposed to dip when it is held over ground which covers water.’

‘It is not only supposed to – it does. My cousin Charles Montague had an ancestral mansion which he turned over to the National Trust. He kept a few acres to build a cottage on, and water being essential, a dowser was called in. He asked me if I’d like to come down and watch the performance, and I did. The chap walked round for about twenty minutes, and there was nothing doing. Then we went to another place, and the rod started to twitch. The chap went on walking and holding it out in front of him, and presently it began to dip and twist until it was all he could do to hold it. He told them where to dig, and they found a first-class spring about a hundred feet down.’

Miss Silver’s ‘Yes’ had a questioning note in it. She added,

‘Pray proceed.’

‘Water isn’t the only thing a good diviner can find.’

‘I believe not.’

‘There is an idea that metals can also be located. Blount’s grandfather was called in by the local police after the Mickleham robbery in 1922. A good deal of valuable plate was taken, and there was an idea that the thieves had buried it. The old boy found it and got a handsome reward. But whether he did it with his divining rod, or because he knew something that the police didn’t, don’t ask me to say. Villagers often know a lot more than they ever spill.’

Miss Silver folded her hands upon Tina’s pink vest.

‘I do not suppose Mr Blount to have been looking for water in Mrs Graham’s back garden, but he might have wished to confirm a theory that Mr Warren’s gold plate had been concealed under, or in the neighbourhood of, the gazebo. I do not know whether you noticed the reference in Mr Jenkinson’s account to a young woman who was present during Mr Warren’s last moments, and who must therefore have heard his references to having saved the gold. I would like you to return to the passage.’

Frank ran his eye down the page until he reached ‘a young woman afterwards married in Yorkshire ’. Continuing from there, he read aloud. ‘ “This person, Mrs M – n, after an absence of many years has now returned and is a parishioner of my own. On referring to her for corroboration of Mr D – L -’s story, he being now deceased, she confirmed it in every particular, even to repeating some of the words let fall by Mr Warren when he lay a-dying. These I do not feel should be set down in print, lest they should give rise to false hopes or to the cupidity of unprincipled persons.” ’

Having reached the end of the passage, he looked up and said,

‘Mrs M – n?’

‘If you will turn the book to the light you will see that the intervening letters have been pencilled in.’

He did so, and exclaimed,

‘What do you make of it? Looks like Martin to me.’

Miss Silver said,

‘During my conversation with Mr Martin this morning he mentioned that his father’s grandmother had been employed in some capacity at Grove Hill House at the time of its being burned down by the rioters. He said his father could remember her telling him about the mob breaking in and Mr Warren losing his life. Do you not think she may have told him rather more than that, and that the story may have caught his stepson’s fancy? Something of the kind, I think, must have occurred in order to bring Mr Worple and Mr Blount upon the scene. Mr Worple has this story of buried treasure. Mr Blount is believed to be able to locate the presence of metal underground. It would be a reason for their association, would it not? But Mr Blount endeavours to steal a march upon his partner. He gets here first and makes an offer for the house. But Mr Worple follows him. There was probably an angry scene, and for a time they bid against each other, but in the end they decide to join forces again. Mr Worple withdraws from the bidding, and at this juncture Mrs Graham is murdered.’

Frank laughed.

‘It’s an ingenious and fascinating tale, but of course it would be impossible to prove any of it. And even your ingenuity would be strained to find a reason for the murder of Mrs Graham!’

She shook her head.

‘It was not, of course, premeditated. Of the three, or perhaps we may say four, suspects, there are only two against whom there is any evidence. In the case of Mr Carey there is Mrs Traill’s statement that she heard Mrs Graham call out “How dare you, Nicholas Carey!” at a time which must have been very close to that of the murder, and when according to his own account he would have been at some considerable distance. This is evidence that Mrs Graham returned to the garden after her daughter had taken her in, and that she became aware of an intruder whom she took to be Nicholas Carey. It is no proof at all that it was Nicholas Carey. The second suspect is Mrs Harrison. As late as seven o’clock on Tuesday evening her diamond ring was undamaged. At ten o’clock on Wednesday morning one of the stones was missing. In the interval Mrs Graham had been murdered. Later the missing stone is found in a crack at the entrance to the gazebo and Mrs Harrison goes to extravagant lengths to provide herself with an alibi for Tuesday night. Mr Worple must come in for some suspicion, but there is nothing that really connects him with the crime, and in both his case and Mrs Harrison’s it is difficult to imagine what would take them to the gazebo at such an hour, unless of course they had an assignation there.’

He laughed.

‘A little far-fetched, don’t you think?’

‘Perhaps. And the motive for murder would be a weak one. But in Mr Blount’s case he could have had a quite compelling reason for silencing Mrs Graham. It is obvious that he had no opportunity of carrying out a really thorough test in the neighbourhood of the gazebo. When he came to view the house he doubtless went into the garden, but Miss Graham would certainly have accompanied him. I do not know to what extent a divining rod could be employed without its being plainly in evidence, but anyone who contemplated sinking a large sum of money in a project of this kind would certainly wish to make the strictest possible tests before committing himself.’

‘So Blount went to the gazebo to wave his divining rod and make sure of the gold?’

‘I will not go farther than to say that he might have gone there for such a purpose.’

‘And then?’

‘He knows that the household at The Lodge keeps early hours. What he could not know was that Mr Carey and Miss Graham would be meeting in the gazebo at half past ten, and that their meeting would be interrupted by Mrs Graham. Owing to this, she was awake at an hour when she should have been safely asleep. I think he must have used a torch – no doubt with great caution – and I think she must have seen it from the bathroom window. Certainly something took her up the garden again in a great hurry. She reaches the gazebo and calls out. You have to imagine the effect on the person whom she has surprised. He takes her by the throat, perhaps to stop her screaming. The rest follows.’

Frank nodded.

‘A good tale, and even a likely one! And not one single solitary shred of evidence to put before a jury! But in Carey’s case – well, I think it would be touch and go for him, depending on who was briefed for the defence and upon just what impression he made in the witness box.’

‘And if you were on such a jury, which way would your vote go?’

He laughed.

‘That would be telling!’

She said demurely,

‘I should very much like to be told.’

‘Very well, strictly between you and me I don’t think Carey did it. From what I have heard I should imagine she would have been an appalling mother-in-law, but I shouldn’t think he would go to the length of murdering her to avoid the relationship – too much awkwardness all round, and not enough incentive. He was marrying the girl anyhow, and as Mrs Graham had already found him in the gazebo once, it really didn’t matter whether she walked into him again.’

He received a look of intelligent commendation.

‘That is precisely the argument I should have put forward myself. But to return to the Blounts. I feel extremely anxious on her account. If he becomes seriously alarmed as to what she may have overheard, I fear for her safety. She is in just that vague shocked condition which would make it comparatively easy to stage an accident. She is, in fact, in a frame of mind conducive either to accident or suicide. And there would be no proof that it was not just a case of another neurotic woman laying down the burden which she feels no longer able to carry. Of course as long as she is here and in a guest house…’

He interrupted her.

‘They have left the guest house. I called in there on my way up, and they had gone. All very sudden and unpremeditated. Miss Madison was put out enough to want to blow off steam, and she told me all about it. It seems two of the guests were alarmed by Mr Blount calling out in his sleep last night. She said she just mentioned it to him when he came in in the early afternoon and he didn’t say anything then, but a little later he came down and said he had been called away in a hurry, upon which he telephoned for a taxi, paid the bill, and departed to catch the four-thirty. She seemed to think that he had taken offence.’

Miss Silver was looking exceedingly grave.

‘Did she say anything about Mrs Blount?’ He nodded.

‘She said she didn’t look as if she was fit to travel.’