The Gazebo

FORTY-ONE

NICHOLAS AND ALTHEA had been together for an hour. They had not spoken very much. He had come to say good-bye. Memory brought back to both of them that other time five years ago when they had said good-bye in the gazebo. Then it had been for five long, cold, sterile years which had taken youth, joy, everything. But he had come back. The dead years were restored again. Life flowed in and the wilderness blossomed. If he went now, not to the risks and dangers of far places but to the cold unsparing judgement of the law, perhaps this was the very last time that they would see each other except with bars between them – the very last time that they would touch, or kiss, or say a word that others did not hear. And yet on the edge of such a separation they had no words to say. And if they were to touch, how could they bear to part? To each of them there was present the thought that it would be better to make an end, to wrench away and have done with this long unconscionable dying of all that had been just within their grasp.

When presently Miss Silver came into the room there was half the width of it between them – Althea in the sofa corner, her face quite drained of colour, her hands clasped rigidly upon the black stuff of her skirt; Nicholas at the window with his back to her, staring out at the path and the road beyond the gate. Three men had come through the front door and shut it behind them. They went out by the gate and turned the corner into Hill Rise. They were Detective Inspector Sharp, Detective Inspector Abbott, and Jack Harrison. Nicholas wondered why they had not arrested him. Behind his back Miss Silver gave the slight cough with which she was wont to call an audience to attention and said,

‘Mr Harrison has made a very important statement.’

The two Inspectors and Jack Harrison walked up Hill Rise and turned into Grove Hill Road. Frank Abbott noted that it did take just five minutes to reach the front door of Grove Hill House. In the porch Jack Harrison said apprehensively,

‘You won’t want me, will you?’

The reply being in the negative, he exhibited considerable relief, remarked that they had better ring the bell, and slipped away round the house to the side door.

When the maid had gone to summon Mrs Harrison and the other two were alone in the drawing-room, Sharp said,

‘I wonder what she’ll smash this time. The poor chap’s afraid of her, you know. What do you think about that statement of his?’

‘I should say it was true.’

And with that the door opened and Ella Harrison came in. She wore the same plaid skirt as before, but the jumper and cardigan were scarlet instead of emerald, and the effect was even more startling. She had on a good deal of make-up, and she looked as if her temper might get away with her at any moment. Without even the slightest of greetings she said,

‘Well, what is it now? I suppose you think I’ve got nothing to do but answer a lot of stupid questions! And I don’t have to answer anything I don’t want to – I know enough about the law to know that!’

She had a challenging look which Inspector Sharp avoided. Frank Abbott met it coolly.

‘I think it would be better it we were to sit down. I think you can help us, and I think you would be well advised to do so. The fact is, a very detailed statement has been made with regard to your movements on Tuesday night.’

‘What do you mean about my movements? I hadn’t any movements! We came home from the Reckitts’ at seven o’clock and we didn’t go out again.’

‘Mrs Harrison, if you persist in that statement you may find yourself in a very serious position. You did go out on Tuesday night at about twenty minutes past eleven. Perhaps you do not know that you were followed, and that the person who followed you has made a detailed statement as to where you went and what you did.’

The shock was overwhelming. It was abundantly plain that Jack Harrison had spoken no more than the truth when he stated his wife had no idea that he had followed her. She took a hesitating step with her hand out before her as if she could not see. When Sharp brought up a chair she dropped on to it and sat there panting, her colour mottled and patchy under the rouge and powder. Frank Abbott said,

‘We have this statement, and I believe it to be a true one. If you will tell us just what happened from your own point of view, and the two accounts correspond, I think you will find that you have nothing to be afraid of. What you must understand is that nothing but the truth is going to clear you.’

She said in an altered voice,

‘Who followed me?’

‘Your husband. He says you were only out of his sight three times, and that for the briefest possible space, from the moment of your leaving the Grove Hill drive until your return to it. If you will give us your account of what happened during the same period, we shall be able to compare it with what your husband says. If the two accounts agree – well, you can see for yourself that their credibility will be considerably strengthened.’

He was talking partly to give her time. She had received a sudden and unexpected blow. She said in a difficult voice,

‘He followed me?’

Frank Abbott said briskly,

‘And has given a most circumstantial account of everything that took place. Now, Mrs Harrison, only a very stupid woman could fail to see that from your point of view it is absolutely necessary that your statement and your husband’s should correspond. If you and he are describing the same incidents and you are both telling the truth, they will, but the slightest deviation from what really happened, the least shade of falsehood, and you will be aggravating the dangers of your position. As you say, you needn’t speak if you do not want to, but you will be very foolish indeed if you refuse.’

He could see that she was pulling herself together. Her colour was returning to normal. She took one or two long breaths, straightened herself in her chair, and said,

‘My husband really did make a statement?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘How do I know you’re not having me on?’

‘You can ask him yourself.’ Then, turning to his colleague, ‘Do you mind, Sharp – I expect he will be in his study.’

While the Inspector was out of the room Ella Harrison sat eyeing Frank Abbott. The beautiful grey suit, the tie and the handkerchief in discreet shades of bluish grey, the immaculately polished shoes, the mirror-smooth hair, the long elegant hands and feet, the cool assured manner, produced an odd mingling of antagonism and respect. She had an impulse to disturb that polished calm, to scream, to throw anything that came handy, but it was an urge that died frustrated. There wouldn’t be any china broken at this interview. Something shrewd and commonplace got the upper hand, something which knew which side its bread was buttered, something that had always made it its business to take care of number one.

When Jack Harrison and Inspector Sharp came into the room she swung round on them. Jack looked nervous, and well he might. He only came just across the threshold and stood there against the door when he had closed it. She said sharply,

‘So you followed me on Tuesday…’

‘Yes, I followed you.’

She gave an angry laugh.

‘Taking a bit of a risk, weren’t you? If I had really met Fred he’d have knocked your head off!’

Frank Abbott intervened.

‘Mr Harrison is here to satisfy you that he did follow you on Tuesday night, that you were only out of his sight whilst turning the corner between Grove Hill Road and Hill Rise, and for the brief time that it took you to skirt the Grahams’ house on your way to the back garden, and on your return from it. Is that correct, Mr Harrison?’

He said, ‘Oh, quite.’

‘Then we needn’t trouble you any further. I take it, Mrs Harrison, you are now satisfied that your husband did follow you, and that he has made a statement as to what he saw and heard. What about it?’

She watched Jack Harrison go out of the room and shut the door before she answered. If she could have had five minutes alone with Jack to find out what he had told them… She might as well think about having the moon. There was nothing for it, she would just have to stick to the truth. She turned round, gave Frank Abbott a hardy look, and said,

‘All right, I’ll play.’

She made her statement, and Sharp took it down. There was some gloss at the beginning. Fred Worple appeared as the old friend whom she couldn’t ask to the house because Jack couldn’t bear her to speak to another man.

‘You’ve really no idea how dull it’s been. Not what I should say was the best way to keep your wife fond of you, but if a man’s jealous he’s jealous, and that’s all there is about it. So when Fred turned up – and mind you, we’d been real good friends – what was the harm in slipping out to a cinema or meeting him somewhere?’

‘And you met him in the gazebo at The Lodge?’

She hesitated, bit her lip.

‘Well, I did once or twice. The Grahams used to be in bed by ten o’clock unless Winifred was playing bridge, and she didn’t often play at night. She was by way of being an invalid, you know, but if you ask me it was mostly put on. She liked being fussed over and she didn’t want Thea to marry… Where was I?’

‘Meeting Mr Worple in the gazebo.’

She gave him an angry look.

‘It was just once or twice when the weather was fine. I wasn’t going there on Tuesday. He was coming here, but he didn’t come.’

There was rather a prolonged pause.

‘Yes, Mrs Harrison?’

‘Oh well, you might as well have it. He was making up to Thea, I’m sure I don’t know why, and I got it into my head that he might be there with her.’

‘That wouldn’t seem very likely.’

She tossed her head.

‘You don’t think about what’s likely when you’ve been expecting someone and they don’t turn up! I thought he might have done it on purpose – I thought he might be with Thea – I thought perhaps he might be expecting me to come to the gazebo. So I went.’

She went on from there to turning into Hill Rise. She had seen a woman run down to catch the bus at the corner of Belview Road. She had slipped in through the tradesmen’s entrance at The Lodge, and she had gone round the house and up the garden to the gazebo.

‘I went up the steps, and just as I got to the top one I had the most awful fright. Someone came barging out and knocked me over. I was thrown against the door and came down smack. I suppose that was when the stone came out of my ring. I know I hit my hand, because it hurt all night afterwards.’

‘It was a man who knocked you down?’

She said quickly, ‘It wasn’t Fred Worple – not tall enough. Besides Fred wouldn’t.’

‘Do you know who it was?’

‘I could make a guess.’

‘Well?’

‘That man Blount that was offering for the house. What did he want it for? I thought it was him at the time, snooping round after everyone was in bed and asleep.’

‘You thought it was Mr Blount. Did you recognize him?’

‘No, I can’t say I did.’

‘Well, go on, Mrs Harrison.’

She stared at him defensively.

‘There isn’t any more. You don’t suppose I was going to stay there after being knocked down like that? I got up and I went back home as quick as I could.’

‘Did you go inside the gazebo?’

Her temper flared.

‘How do you mean, did I go into the gazebo? What do you take me for? I suppose poor Winifred Graham was lying there dead, wasn’t she? If I’d gone into the gazebo I’d have fallen over her! Do you really suppose I’d have come away and left her lying like that? Because I wouldn’t! I don’t know what you think people are made of! Why, she mightn’t even have been dead!’

The Inspector wrote that down, as he had written all the rest. Frank said,

‘Oh, I don’t think there is any doubt that she was dead.’