I SHOULD like to see Lady Steyne,” said the Inspector. He got up and went towards the bell.
Dale Jerningham stopped him.
“You needn’t bother to ring — I’ll fetch her. I expect she’s on the terrace.”
He got a shrewd, straight glance.
“I was going to ask you to wait here till she came.” A firm thumb pressed the bell.
Dale said, “Oh, just as you like.” He strolled over to the window and stood there looking out.
William came, and went.
Presently the door opened again and Alicia Steyne came in. She glanced first at the Inspector, who had remained standing, and then at Dale, who came to meet her. The Inspector thought her a very pretty woman and much younger than he had expected. Her neck and arms were bare and brown. Her white linen dress showed a slim and pretty figure.
There was a carnation colour in her cheeks and her eyes sparkled. He noticed that they dwelt upon her cousin. He said,
“I needn’t keep you now, Mr. Jerningham. Will you sit down, Lady Steyne?”
Dale got half way to the door. Then he turned and said,
“I had to tell him about seeing Pell on the track. I put it at well before ten. Is that what you would say?”
Alicia sat down composedly. She seemed to consider the question.
“I don’t know — I suppose so. Does it matter?”
“It might.” said the Inspector. “If you don’t mind, Mr. Jerningham, I would rather Lady Steyne made quite an independent statement.”
Dale said, “Oh, all right,” hesitated a moment, and then went out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
The Inspector sat down and took up his pen.
Alicia was lighting a cigarette. When she had got it going she tossed the spent match into the waste-paper basket with an accurate, vigorous aim, and said in her sweet, high voice,
“This is a damnable business, isn’t it? Dale’s horribly upset about it.”
“In what way, Lady Steyne?”
She sketched a gesture with her cigarette.
“Oh, well, you know — the whole thing — this wretched man Pell being in his employment. And Dale swore by him — said he was the best mechanic he had ever had. You know he’s mad on flying, and he was going to have his own plane and keep Pell for the ground work. He really was awfully good. I hear he’s bolted. Have you got him yet?”
“No, not yet. Did you know this girl Cissie Cole?”
Alicia drew at the cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke.
“I knew her when she was a child. This was my home till I married. I was brought up here with my cousins, so of course I know everyone in the village. Dale’s very feudal, you know. That’s why he went off the deep end about Pell. The Coles belong to Tanfield, they’ve belonged for about three hundred years, and Tanfield belongs to him. Touch one of my people and you touch me. Pell might have committed bigamy in any other village in England, but not in Tanfield. You see?”
March nodded.
“Yes. You say you knew Cissie Cole as a child. Had you not seen her since?”
“Oh, yes — at intervals — as one does, you know. I’ve bought stamps from her in the post office when her aunt was busy, and said good-morning when I passed her in the village — that sort of thing.”
“Did she talk to you about this affair with Pell?”
“Oh, Lord, no!” She paused, and added, “I believe she talked to Lisle — Mrs. Jerningham. I don’t live here now, you know — I’m only on a visit.”
“I see. Now, Lady Steyne, perhaps you would just tell me what you were doing between nine and eleven o’clock last night.”
Alicia sat back. She held her cigarette away and said in a considering tone,
“Nine to eleven — oh, certainly. Dale rang up the aerodrome and arranged to do some night flying — that was just before nine, I think — and then I got out my car and we drove a bit and went up on to the cliffs—”
“At Tane Head?”
“Yes.”
“How long were you there?”
“Well we got to the aerodrome at eleven. I don’t know how long we were up on the moor.” She laughed suddenly. “You know, Inspector, this is all damnably compromising— or at least that’s what it’s going to look like by the time it gets into the papers. Honestly, it’s rather hard luck. We go for a harmless evening stroll and before we know where we are we’re let in for an inquest, and everybody thinking the worst about us. Dale’s fed to the teeth.”
The Inspector thought that as far as Lady Steyne was concerned she appeared to be in very good spirits. He reflected that she was a widow and that Jerningham was married, and he speculated for a moment on Mrs. Jerninghams’ attitude towards cousinly strolls on Tane Head. He asked her about the meeting with Pell, and found her answers vague. It was quite light enough to recognise him. It had been a particularly fine evening and the light stayed late on the cliffs. He came running down the track and got on his motor-bicycle and rode away. She couldn’t say whether he saw them or not — he might have — they were not on the track, but they were not far away. She agreed that it could not have been much later than a quarter to ten. No, she hadn’t heard any cry, and she had never been near enough to the edge of the cliff to look over. No, she hadn’t seen anyone else up there. There were some children in Berry Lane.
“And you were up on the headland till about a quarter to eleven?”
“Yes. It would take about a quarter of an hour to drive to the aerodrome.”
“If Cissie Cole had been on the headland when you got there, would you have seen her?”
“We might have. We didn’t.”
“Let me put it this way — could she have been there without you seeing her?”
“Oh, easily. Haven’t you seen the place? It’s all up and down, with blackberry thickets and gorse — plenty of cover.”
“And the light was good enough for you to have recognised her?”
She drew at her cigarette and blew out the smoke.
“That depends on what you mean by recognise. We should have seen if there had been anyone there. We saw Pell — oh, a long way off — but I didn’t recognise him until he passed us.”
March said, “I see—” And then, “Were you and Mr. Jerningham together?”
Alicia laughed.
“You’re quite determined to compromise me — aren’t you?”
“You were together all the time?”
She laughed again.
“Now what did Dale say when you asked him that? Are you trying to catch me? I believe you are, so I’m going to be on the safe side. We weren’t actually holding hands, and I’m not going to swear I never took my eyes off him — you can’t expect me to give myself away to that extent, can you? — but — well, I suppose you can guess that we didn’t go up there to sit under separate gorse bushes about a quarter of a mile apart. And when you have guessed, I hope you won’t think it necessary to tell.”
She threw the stub of her cigarette after the match, and with just as good an aim. Then she smiled enchantingly.
“Dale really is frightfully upset,” she said. “There’s nothing in it, but his wife’s that sort of person, and he’s got visions of headlines in the papers, and scenes about it with her, and the village simply buzzing. I told you he was feudal, and I do believe it’s the village talk he really minds about most.” She pushed back her chair and got up. “Is that all? Who do you want to see next — Lisle? She really did talk to Cissie last night, you know.”
Inspector Marsh said, “Yes. Perhaps you would ask her to come in.”
LISLE and Rafe were still in the hall when Alicia came out of the study. They had not moved, and neither of them had said a single word either to one another or to Dale, who had gone past them with a black frown.
Alicia Steyne approached them smiling.
“Rather a good-looking policeman — old school tie and all that sort of thing. He’s frightfully disappointed because Dale and I didn’t actually see Pell push Cissie over the cliff. It must have been quite a near thing, you know.” She linked her arm with Rafe’s. “Where’s Dale? I want to compare notes and see if we have contradicted each other anywhere. By the way, Lisle, he wants you — the policeman, not Dale.”
As Lisle came into the study she couldn’t help thinking of what she had seen there only yesterday. It felt much longer ago than that — but it was only yesterday that she had looked from the gunroom door and seen Dale and Alicia… She put the thought away with a shuddering effort.
Inspector March thought how pale she was. She gave him her hand as if he had been an invited guest, and then sat down and looked at him with the grave attention of a child that has a lesson to say.
“Mrs. Jerningham, I believe you saw Cissie Cole last night.”
“Yes.”
She thought, “He has a nice voice — he looks kind.” She relaxed a little.
“Her aunt, the elder Miss Cole, had already been to see you?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me what passed between you?”
“She was worried about Cissie and — and — Pell. She was worried about his having got a job at the aerodrome. She wanted me to ask my husband to do something about it. I told her I didn’t think he would interfere — he wouldn’t keep Pell here, but he wouldn’t interfere with his getting any other work.”
“Yes — go on Mrs. Jerningham.”
Lisle looked down at her own hands lying in her lap.
“She was very much upset. She said Pell wouldn’t leave Cissie alone. When I said Dale wouldn’t interfere, she asked me if I would see Cissie, and I said I would. I didn’t think I could do any good but I didn’t like to say no.”
“And Cissie came to see you last night. Can you remember what that time was?”
“Yes, I think so. We came out of the dining-room about twenty to nine. We were going to have coffee on the terrace. William brought it out there, but he came back to say that Cissie had come before I had time to drink mine.”
“That would make it about a quarter to nine?”
Lisle said, “Something like that.”
“And when did she go away?”
Lisle thought before she answered him.
“She didn’t stay very long — about a quarter of an hour, I should think. I went up to my room to get a coat I was giving her, and we talked for a little, but I don’t think she was there for more than a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes — it might have been twenty minutes.”
“That would mean she left you at about five minutes past nine.”
“Yes.”
“Did you go back to the terrace and drink your coffee?”
A little tremor ran over her.
“Yes. It was cold.”
“And your husband and Lady Steyne — were they still there?”
“No they had gone. She was driving him to the aerodrome.”
“Well, they seem just to have missed Cissie Cole. Now, Mrs. Jerningham, will you tell me about your conversation with Cissie — everything you can remember. Never mind whether it seems important or not.”
Lisle raised her eyes to his face — beautiful, serious eyes of a grey so dark as to seem almost black. The lashes which shaded them were dark also. Under that very fair hair and against the whiteness of her skin they gave her a strange grieving look. She began telling him about the coat.
“It was quite a new one. I chose it in a bad light and it was too bright for me, but Cissie liked bright things and I thought it would please her—”
“Just a minute, Mrs. Jerningham. This coat — had it a red and green check on a cream ground?”
Lisle said, “Yes.” Her eyes widened with horror as he said,
“She was wearing it when she fell.”
He saw that faint shudder go over her again, but she went on looking at him. He said gently,
“It’s very distressing, but will you tell me just how she took it — the gift of the coat. What I want to get at is her state of mind — and with the probable exception of Pell you must be the last person she talked to.”
She put up her hand to her cheek and held it there.
“Yes, I know — I’ll do my best.” There was a moment’s pause. Then she went on, “I gave her the coat, and she said it was lovely. She really did seem very much pleased. She put it on and looked at herself in the glass. Then she took it off and folded it up.”
“She didn’t go away in it?”
“No — it was still very hot.”
“But if Pell had picked her up on his motor-bike, she would probably have put it on”
Lisle’s hands dropped from her cheek. It left a faint crimson mark upon the skin. She said in a wondering tone,
“Did he pick her up?”
“We don’t know,” March said. “He and his motor-bicycle were seen at Tane Head.”
He thought this was news to her. And he thought that Dale Jerningham appeared to confide more freely in his cousin than in his wife. He said,
“Yes, Pell was seen there. He rode his motor-bicycle away. But we haven’t found anyone who saw him with Cissie. Will you tell me how she talked of him?”
Lisle drew a soft breath.
“She didn’t say much — neither of us did. She said she was unhappy, and I asked her if she would like to go away for a bit. I’d heard of a place which I thought might suit her.”
“What did she say to that?”
The mark had faded from Lisle’s cheek. She was all white again.
“She said she couldn’t go away, because she would never see him again.” Cissie’s “And never no more—” rang in her head. She thought her voice would break under the words. She had to take others.
“Yes, Mrs. Jerningham?”
“I said something like what was the use of seeing him, and she said nothing was any use. And then she thanked me again for the coat and went away.”
“And that was all?”
“Yes, that was all.”
Inspector March sat back in his chair.
“Looking back on that conversation, Mrs. Jerningham, would you say that this girl was in a state of mind to commit suicide? You have said she was unhappy. There are a great many degrees of unhappiness. Do you think she was unhappy enough to take her own life?”
For the first time a little natural colour came into Lisle’s face. She said without hesitation whatever,
“Oh no — not when she was talking to me.”
March smiled involuntarily. It was just like seeing someone come alive — rather beautifully too. He said,
“You sound very sure about that. Will you tell me why?”
“Oh, yes — it was because of the coat. You could see she was really pleased. It didn’t suit her very well, but she was terribly pleased with it. We are about the same height and it fitted her. It was a very good coat. She knew that, and it pleased her. She hadn’t ever had anything like it before. All the time we were talking she had her hand on it. I could see her feeling the stuff. A girl who was going to kill herself wouldn’t do that — would she?”
“I don’t know,” said the Inspector. “She might have had a scene with Pell up there on the cliff and thrown herself over. Was she an excitable girl?”
Lisle shook her head.
“No, not a bit. She was the meek, obstinate sort. That’s what made it so difficult about Pell. Once she’d got an idea into her head you couldn’t get it out again. But she didn’t get excited — she just cried.”
“You knew her well?”
“Yes, very well. She used to come up here and sew for me.” Her voice changed and became unsteady on the last words. Cissie sewing — Cissie talking about Pell — Cissie crying — Cissie on the rocks at the foot of Tone Head—
As if he had read her thoughts. Inspector March said,
“Then she had talked to you before about Pell?”
“Oh, yes — quite a lot. We all thought he was courting her, and of course she thought so too. She was very fond of him. And then when she found out that he was married she came up here crying and told me all about it. She seemed afraid I should think it was her fault in some way, poor Cissie.”
“Did she ever say anything about taking her own life?”
“Oh, no. I don’t really think she was that sort of girl. She was gentle, you know, and quiet — not much about her — not very bright. She sewed very well, but she took a long time over it. I just can’t imagine her doing anything sudden, or violent, or impulsive. She wasn’t like that at all. If she had had a scene with Pell she would have sat down and cried about it quietly — she wouldn’t have thrown herself over a cliff.”
As she spoke she had the feeling that she was defending Cissie who was not there to defend herself. The effort brought colour to her cheeks and life into those wide dark, eyes. And then quite suddenly, there came the realisation that in defending Cissie she might be accusing Pell. All the strength seemed to drain out of her. A terrible thought came and went. She shut her eyes for a moment, and opened them to see the Inspector looking at her. He was leaning back in his chair. He said in his pleasant voice,
“Thank you, Mrs. Jerningham. Now, to come back to last night — you think Cissie went away soon after nine o’clock?”
“Yes.”
“And your husband and Lady Steyne had already gone when you got back to the terrace. Where was Mr. Rafe Jerningham?”
Lisle looked a little surprised.
“Oh, he was there.”
“Did you spend the evening together?”
“No, he went for a walk, and I went to bed. I was tired.”
He thought she looked tired now. The long, slim figure would have drooped if it had not been held erect. Its poise was the result of effort. The small fair head was carried with an involuntary pride. This was an ordeal, and she was confronting it with a young dignity as simple as it was touching. He said,
“I’m afraid this all very trying for you, Mrs. Jerningham, but I have finished now. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind asking Mr. Rafe Jerningham to come here for a moment. I shan’t have to keep him very long.”