The Key

CHAPTER SIXTEEEN

MISS BROWN FACED them across the table in the old rector’s study. She was of such a pallor as to rouse some apprehension lest she should bring the interview to a sudden close by fainting. She wore a black dress. She sat stiffly upright. She kept her eyes upon the Chief Inspector’s face – haunted eyes with dilated pupils.

Sergeant Abbott sat at one end of the table with a notebook. He had seen a good many frightened people in the course of his professional duties, but he thought Miss Brown had it as badly as any of them.

After an impressive pause old Lamb was leading off.

‘You are Miss Medora Brown?’

‘Yes.’

‘You gave evidence yesterday at the inquest on Mr Michael Harsch, during which you stated that, having used your church key on Tuesday morning, you put it back in the top left-hand drawer of Miss Fell’s bureau, and that you did not go to the church again.’

‘Yes.’

‘Would you like to modify that statement at all, or to add to it?’

Her lips hardly moved, but they said, ‘No.’

Lamb made a show of unfolding a paper. He did not hurry over it.

‘I have here the statement of a witness who says he was in a lane known as the Church Cut somewhere between nine and a quarter to ten p.m. on the night of Mr Harsch’s death. He states that you came through the garden door into the lane, and that Professor Madoc met you, and asked you whether you were going to the church to see Mr Harsch, who was playing the organ there. He said that you should not go, and that you should hand him over the key. When you refused, he twisted your arm and the key fell. The witness declares that Mr Madoc picked it up and went off in the direction of the church, whilst you went back into the garden and shut the door. Have you any comment to make?’

Miss Brown stared with those dilated eyes. She moistened her pale lips and said, ‘No.’

Lamb leaned forward.

‘It is only fair to tell you that Major Albany says that your key was not in the drawer on Thursday evening, but that by the time you all returned from the inquest on Friday morning it had been replaced. There is further evidence to show that you left the house at midnight on Thursday for a quarter of an hour, and that you went into the lane. There was some broken glass there, and you brought a bit of it in on your dress. Mr Madoc also picked up a bit of broken glass. From which we infer that you met him again on Thursday night, and that he then gave you back the key which he had taken from you on Tuesday.’

There was a somewhat prolonged pause. Lifting his eyes from his notebook, Sergeant Abbott surveyed Miss Brown. She was not looking at him but at the Chief Inspector. He at once became aware that the quality of this look had changed. It was as if, having heard the worst, she was assembling her courage. At least that is how it struck him. Certainly something had happened since he had looked at her last. She was, for instance, no longer so rigid. The extreme pallor was gone. You couldn’t say that her colour had come back. That thick, smooth skin of hers probably never had any, and when she wasn’t paralysed with fright it would appear very much as it did now.

As the thought went through his mind, she made a slight movement and said quick and low, ‘Will you let me explain?’

Lamb said, ‘Certainly. I shall be glad to hear anything you have to say.’

She moved again, leaning a little towards him.

‘Of course I don’t know who your witness is, but he is quite mistaken in what he saw. I can tell you exactly what happened. I could hear that Mr Harsch was playing the organ in the church. He is-’ she paused and corrected herself ‘-he was a very fine musician. I have often gone into the church to listen when he was playing. I meant to do so on Tuesday evening. I took my key because sometimes he has locked the door. I went down through the garden and opened the door into the lane. There is a similar door into the churchyard a little farther along.’

‘Yes – we have been over the ground.’

‘Then you will understand. I was just going into the lane, when I heard footsteps and saw someone coming from the direction of the village. It was a man, but I didn’t recognise him. It certainly wasn’t Mr Madoc. The man called out something, I don’t know what, and I went back into the garden and shut the door as your witness says. I thought the man was intoxicated, and I gave up the idea of going to the church. Afterwards when I got up to my room I found that I had dropped my key.’

Lamb gazed at her with solid gravity.

‘Did you go back to look for it?’

She shook her head.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘It was getting late – the man had startled me – I thought Miss Fell would be coming up to bed – I didn’t want to make explanations – I thought I would leave it till the morning.’

Frank Abbott thought, ‘One reason would have been enough – and she’s given us five. Five explanations means that something wants a lot of explaining away. Women always overdo things. In fact, “methinks the lady doth protest too much.” ’

He wrote what she had said, and heard Lamb ask, ‘How do you know that it wasn’t Mr Madoc who came along the lane?’

‘It wasn’t anyone as tall as Mr Madoc’

‘Did you see his face?’

‘No.’

‘Why not? It was bright moonlight, wasn’t it?’

‘There are trees overhanging the wall. His face was in shadow.’

‘You are sure that you didn’t recognise him?’

She sat easily now, her hands lying loosely in her lap. She said, ‘Quite sure.’

‘Then how do you account for the fact that he addressed you as Medora? That is your name, isn’t it?’

The hands took hold of one another. Frank watched them. They strained and tightened.

‘I told you he called out. I couldn’t hear what he said. He may have mistaken me for someone else. The cook next door is called Dora.’

Bent over his notebook again, Frank Abbott permitted himself a slight sarcastic smile. Lamb said, ‘You deny having had any conversation with this man? The statement I spoke of says that words passed between you on the subject of Mr Harsch.’

‘There was no conversation. I went back into the garden.’

‘Yes – leaving your key. When did you get it back again, Miss Brown?’

It appeared she was quite easy about that. She took it in her stride.

‘I went to look for it on Wednesday morning. I am afraid I didn’t look very carefully. We had had the news of Mr Harsch’s death, and I was terribly upset – I couldn’t think about anything else. I didn’t think about the key being important until someone – I think it was Miss Doncaster – said that of course the police would ask a lot of questions about the other church keys. That was on Thursday. So that evening I waited for the moon and went out into the lane to see if I could find my key.’

‘Why did you have to wait for the moon? Wouldn’t it have been a good deal simpler by daylight?’

She threw him an odd protesting glance.

‘I hadn’t time – I couldn’t get away. I am Miss Fell’s companion. Major Albany was coming to stay – there was a great deal to do.’

The same multiplicity of reasons.

Lamb said, ‘I see. Go on, Miss Brown.’

Protest changed to something like defiance.

‘There isn’t any more. I found the key. There was some broken glass there, as you said. I suppose I must have brought a bit in. I naturally didn’t imagine that anyone would be spying on me.’

There was just a spark of temper there. Lamb took no notice of it.

He said gravely, ‘Where did you find the key?’ and at once she was relaxed again. The answer came readily.

‘It was lying up against the wall under a dandelion plant.’

‘Which side of the door?’

‘On the right. It was close up against the wall.’

Lamb got up, went to the window, and stood there looking out. He could see the wall, and the shape of the door breaking it. Without turning round he said, ‘The handle’s on the left. Those doors open inwards, don’t they?’

‘Yes.’

He came back to his seat. Miss Brown went on speaking.

‘The key must have fallen out of my hand when the man startled me. It was right up against the wall, quite close to the jamb. The moon happened to shine on it, or I might not have seen it.’

‘And did Mr Madoc come there to help you look for your key?’

She drew back. The effect was that she flinched.,

‘How could he help me? He wasn’t there. Nobody helped me.’

‘You deny that you met Mr Madoc in the lane on Thursday night?’

‘Of course I deny it. He wasn’t there. I went out, and found the key, and put it back in the bureau drawer.’

Lamb took a frowning glance at the paper he had handled before, and then looked up and asked with an effect of suddenness, ‘Just how well did you know Mr Harsch?’

Miss Brown was not at all discomposed.

‘I knew him – we were on friendly terms. Miss Fell is fond of music – she often invited him.’

‘You were friendly?’

‘Yes.’

‘Were you more than friendly?’

She lifted her eyebrows and said coldly, ‘Certainly not.’

‘And Mr Madoc?’

There was a pause before she said, ‘I don’t know – what you mean.’

Her tone was very nearly the same, but not quite. It was still cold, but Frank Abbott thought that it had changed. He thought she was afraid.

Lamb said, ‘I am asking you how well you know Mr Madoc?’

This time her answer came quickly in a tumble of words.

‘I know him – we all know each other here – it’s a small place. Is there anything wrong about that?’

‘Does he call you by your Christian name?’

‘Certainly not! Why should he?’

‘That is not for me to say, Miss Brown.’

The Chief Inspector pushed back his chair and got up.