CHAPTER XXXVII

Chief Detective Inspector Lamb was in no mood to be trifled with. His second daughter, Violet-the flighty one-had been trying his temper to the utmost and upsetting her mother to a really serious extent by announcing that she proposed to become engaged to a South American dance-band leader. It was in vain that his other daughters, Lily now a comfortable matron, and Myrtle on the point of completing her training as a nurse, took every opportunity of pointing out to him that Violet was always getting engaged and it never came to anything, so why worry. As Lily said, ‘If she didn’t go through with it when it was that nice Major Lee, or that very good-looking Squadron Leader, or the young man whose uncle had a blacking factory, well, why shouldn’t she break it off with Pedrillo?’ The mere name sent the blood to Lamb’s head in a most alarming manner. Foreigners existed, and a nice mess they made of things by all accounts. Look at Hitler-look at Mussolini-look at all those foreign Communists! Well, there they were, and they’d got to be put up with or got rid of, according as the case might be, and no doubt some of them were to be pitied and given a helping hand to. But to go bringing them into the family was just a bit of tomfool craziness. Violet and her, ‘Hasn’t he got lovely dark flashing eyes, Pop?’! She needn’t think she could get round him with silly pet names. He was a Chapel member in good standing, but he’d never been nearer swearing in his life.

He was therefore in no mood for tolerance. Frank Abbott, encountering the slightly bulging eyes which had so often evoked an irreverent comparison with the larger kind of peppermint bullseye, was made duly aware that he had better mind his p’s and q’s. The slightest sign of uppishness, and one of the Chiefs most formidable harangues would be forthcoming. Frank knew them all by heart, and had no desire to hear any of them again. He therefore trimmed his course with care and having weathered the short passage from Emsworth station to the office which the County Superintendent had placed at their disposal, was rewarded by a menacing glare and a rasp in the voice more suggestive of a lion than a lamb.

‘Very mild and meek all of a sudden, aren’t you? Makes me wonder what you’ve been getting up to. It’s not natural, and when people don’t act naturally, that’s the time you’ve got to watch ’em. What have you been doing?’

Frank’s left eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly. With a slight accentuation of his usual manner he replied,

‘Nothing, sir.’

The suggestion of an approaching storm was intensified. Lamb sat back in his chair, his big body filling it squarely, his face ruddy and lowering, his strong black hair asserting its vigour by something as near a curl as a drastic hair-cut would allow.

‘Nothing?’ he repeated. ‘Well, I suppose you think that’s a recommendation. A man is murdered in his own house four or five days before his wedding, the girl he’s going to marry is found with her hands all over blood, the dagger that stabbed him lying at her feet, and the man she was going to elope with-old lover chucked over for a richer man-actually in the room.’

‘Only one hand, sir.’

‘Only one!’ The Chief Inspector drew in his breath and let it out again explosively. ‘It doesn’t take more than one hand to stab a man, does it?’

‘No, sir.’

Lamb thumped his knee with a powerful fist.

‘Well then, get on and arrest her-get on and arrest young Waring! It’s as clear as daylight, isn’t it? She was going to elope with him. Sir Herbert Whitall comes down and catches them, and one of them stabs him. Looks as if it was the girl. The dagger was lying there handy, and she grabbed it.’

‘Well, sir-’

He got no farther than that, because the storm broke.

‘Too easy for you, I suppose! Not clever enough! No scope for showing off and making a splash! That’s about the size of it, isn’t it?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Yes, sir-no, sir-well, sir! Might as well be a talking dummy and have done with it! Polite as pie and respectful as you please on top, and as insubordinate as the devil underneath! If there’s one thing that riles me more than another, it’s that, and you know it! If you’ve got anything to say-and I suppose you have-you’d better by half come out with it!’

Frank Abbott came out with it. The medical evidence- Adrian Grey’s evidence-Marsham’s evidence as to hearing voices in the study-the Professor’s magnifying-glass-the Professor’s statement-Miss Whitaker and her alibi-Mr. Haile’s interest under the will, his dubious financial position-the very curious conversation between him and the butler as overheard by Miss Maud Silver-

A deep plum colour suffused the face of Chief Inspector Lamb.

‘Miss Silver!’

‘Maudie the Mascot. All present, and as usual superlatively correct. She had a new knitting-bag, I think. And it’s vests this time, not stockings-pale pink, for a little girl of about three.’

‘Well, I’m-’ Lamb made a commendable effort and checked himself. It was against his principles to swear, and he had already allowed himself to be goaded into mentioning the devil.

No one could have returned his glare more innocently than Inspector Abbott. He risked a ‘Yes, sir,’ and went on rather hastily.

‘Lady Dryden got her down. And you know, sir, it really is extremely useful having her there in the house. I remember your saying what an advantage it was, her being there on the inside, seeing people in a natural everyday sort of way.’

‘I don’t remember saying anything of the sort!’

‘It was over the Latter End case, I think, sir. I remember thinking how well you put it.’

‘Soft-sawdering me now, are you? Well, there’s something in it of course. We come in on a case-everyone’s rattled, most of ’em have got something to hide. Remember that case I told you about? Woman looked as guilty as if she’d done seven murders instead of one, and all she was afraid of was her husband would find out she wore a wig. He was a bit younger, and it seems he’d always thought what pretty hair she had. That’s the kind of thing that tangles up a case, and I won’t say that Miss Silver doesn’t come in handy here and there when it comes to that. No, I’ll give her her due-she knows people, and she sees through ’em. If she’d lived a couple of hundred years ago she’d have been in the way of getting herself ducked for a witch. Pretty short way they had with them too-put ’em in the nearest pond. If the poor creature floated, they took her out and hanged her or burned her at the stake. If she sank, well, that proved she was innocent, so she only got drowned, and everyone went home happy. Nice times and nice doings! But I’ve often wondered about those old women, whether there wasn’t something in it. Poison and suchlike,’ he added hastily.

There was a knock on the door followed by the appearance of a fresh-faced young constable.

‘Beg pardon, sir, but there’s a lady on the line-Miss Silver. Wants to speak to Inspector Abbott-says it’s very important.’

Inspector Abbott got up with an impassive face. Inwardly he allowed himself a rueful ‘That’s torn it! And just when he’s talked himself into a good temper!’ His languid ‘I suppose I’d better see what it is, sir,’ did nothing to avert a frown.

He followed the young constable to the telephone, and heard Miss Silver say on an interrogative note,

‘Inspector Abbott?’

‘Speaking.’

‘I am sorry to disturb you, especially as I understand you are engaged with Chief Inspector Lamb, but there is some new evidence-very important evidence indeed-and I feel that there should be no delay at all in acquainting you with it and laying it before the Chief Inspector.’

Frank whistled.

‘How important is it? He doesn’t particularly care about being deflected, you know.’

‘I said very important. I have a witness here whom you should see immediately. It is the young footman, Frederick. He was out of the house that night, and he saw something. I think that if you could bring the Chief Inspector here, and his evidence could be taken on the spot-’

There was a slight pause. Then he said,

‘Well, I did suggest that you should pull a rabbit out of the hat, so we are in it together-but we’re not going to be popular. I’ll go and tell him. Will you hold on?’

After a brief stormy passage he returned.

‘Are you there?… All right, we’re on our way. It had better be important, you know. There’s a good deal of high explosive about. Au revoir.’

It was unfortunate that the Chief Inspector should have overheard the last two words. Irrupting into the room rather after the manner of a tank, he was able to discharge one of his more vehement homilies-The Ample Provision afforded by the English Language for the Full Expression of all such Sentiments as it is Proper for a Police Officer to entertain.

‘And if there are things that need wrapping up in a foreign language, it’s either because someone’s got wind in the head and wants to show off, or because he’s got something to say he’s ashamed of putting into decent English.’

Frank, who had heard it all before, could only hope that his esteemed Chief would have got the last of it off his chest by the time they arrived at Vineyards.

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