Silence in Court (16 page)

After that she stopped looking at the judge. She looked down instead at her own folded hands. They were bare, and they looked very white against the black of her skirt. Nora had sent her the coat and skirt to wear, with an odd impulsive note—“Better wear black. It always goes down well. This is with my love. I've hardly worn it. I look a fiend in mourning, and nobody wears it now, but it will be better for you. And I
don't
believe you did it. Nora.”

She went on looking down at her hands. Sir Wilbury stopped speaking.

All through the evidence of arrest, the medical evidence, the formal admission of Honoria Maquisten's will, she sat like that.

A police witness deposed to examining the bottle which had contained the sleeping-tabloids. The bottle was produced in court. It contained three white pellets. Witness testified to finding it in the small glass-fronted cupboard in the bathroom adjoining Mrs. Maquisten's room, and to testing it for fingerprints. There were no fingerprints. The bottle contained three tabloids.

When the court rose for lunch Mr. Mordaunt had a word of encouragement for Jefferson Stewart, back again from the States and looking as if he was short of sleep.

“Not a bad start, you know. That black thing suits her. No harm her keeping her eyes down—looks modest. Made me a bit uneasy, the way she kept looking at the judge to start with. I don't suppose she knew she was doing it. Well, he got a good view of her eyes, and you can't say they're not worth looking at. There's something about them too. Kind of tragic innocence. Daresay it didn't do any harm. Even judges are human.” He chuckled. “Very human, some of them. Strange, but true.”

Molly James was the first witness after lunch. Scarlet and very nearly inaudible, she testified to finding a letter on the front door mat at between a quarter and half past two and taking it up to Mrs. Maquisten. There was no stamp on it. It must have been left by hand. She thought she had seen the writing before. It was all straight up and down. But she couldn't say whose it was. Oh, no, she couldn't. And Mrs. Maquisten was angry, and called her back and asked for the young ladies and for Mr. Harland, but they were out, and she said to send them up as soon as they came in, whichever one came first.

Marten Lanthony, Sir Wilbury Fossett's junior, had been shepherding her along. He asked,

“And who did come first, Miss James?”

With a loud sob Molly said,

“Miss Carey.”

A tall, thin young man who was junior counsel for the defence stood up and said in a pleasant voice,

“Please don't cry, Miss James. I just want to ask you whether Mrs. Maquisten said anything more about Miss Silence.”

Molly gulped and stared. She thought him a very nice gentleman, especially when he gave her an encouraging smile and went on quite informally.

“Try and remember, will you. She asked you if any of the young ladies were in. Did she put it just like that, or did she ask for them separately?”

Molly blinked.

“She asked for Miss Honor—Miss King, that is. And then she asked for Miss Nora—Mrs. Hull. And then she asked for Mr. Dennis and Miss Carey—and they was all out.”

“What did Mrs. Maquisten say when you told her Miss King was out?”

“She was angry.”

“And when you told her Mrs. Hull was out?”

“She was angry, sir.”

“And when you told her Mr. Harland and Miss Silence were out?”

“She was angry.”

“Was she angry in just the same way as when you told her that the others were out?”

“Oh, yes, sir.”

“And after that did she say anything more about Miss Silence?”

“No, sir, she didn't. She just told me to send them up to her as soon as they come in, whichever one come first.”

“Thank you, Miss James.”

Molly stepped down, a little regretful now that it was over. She wouldn't have minded going on answering the nice young gentleman's questions—called her Miss James and ever so pleasant.

“Call Magda Brayle!”

A neat, upright figure in nurse's dress stepping up into the witness-box, taking the oath in a clear, unhurried voice. Carey lifted her eyes for a moment. Magda hadn't changed a bit. It seemed as if everybody must have changed, but Magda hadn't. She was prompt and audible in her replies. She knew just what she had to say and she said it. She might have been answering questions about a patient's temperature.

At about 2.15 on the afternoon of Monday, November 16th, she was in the bathroom adjoining Mrs. Maquisten's bedroom. The communicating door was ajar. She heard Molly James come in and say, “There's a letter,” and a little after that she heard Mrs. Maquisten call her back. Her voice was very angry. She asked for Miss King and Mrs. Hull. When Molly said they were out she asked for Mr. Harland and Miss Silence. When Molly told her they were out too she said to send up the first one that came in.

Sir Wilbury asked in the fine voice which could make any question seem more important than it was,

“And who was the first to come in?”

“Miss Silence—about half an hour later.”

“Were you still in the bathroom with the door ajar?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hear what was said?”

“I couldn't hear much of what Miss Silence said. I could hear what Mrs. Maquisten said because she was speaking in a loud, angry voice, except at the beginning, when she seemed as if she was choking with anger.”

“Will you tell us what you heard.”

“Miss Silence came in and said, ‘What is it, Cousin Honoria?' And that was where Mrs. Maquisten began to choke. I heard her say something about being deceived, and I heard Miss Silence say, ‘
Please
, Cousin Honoria—' and things like that, as if she was trying to soothe her down. Mrs. Maquisten was getting angrier all the time. Her voice got loud again. I heard her tell Miss Silence that she was to ring up her solicitor and tell him to come round at once, and to bring her will, because she was going to alter it.”

“Did Miss Silence appear to be willing to do this?”

“Oh, no—she kept trying to soothe her. In the end Mrs. Maquisten was fairly raging. She said, ‘I've been deceived, and deceit is what I won't put up with!' A little later on she said that again—‘I won't put up with deceit, and I won't put up with disobedience, Carey. Either you ring Mr. Aylwin up at once, or I send for Magda to do it. You needn't think you can stop me, and you needn't think you can get me to change my mind!' Then Miss Silence rang up. I heard her give the message. Then she said, ‘Cousin Honoria, Mr. Aylwin is in Scotland. He may be away for a day or two.' And Mrs. Maquisten said, ‘Tell Hood he's to come—Mr. Hood, the head clerk. Say you must speak to him.'”

“You needn't go any farther than that—Mr. Hood will tell us what was said. Did anything more pass between Miss Silence and Mrs. Maquisten?”

“Not very much. Mrs. Maquisten said, ‘I'll have to rest. You'd better go. It isn't good for me to be angry like this,' and Miss Silence said, ‘I'm sorry, Cousin Honoria.'”

Carey lifted her eyes again. She remembered saying that. She remembered Cousin Honoria with the flush fading from her face and the lines of fatigue cut deep. She saw herself going out of the room shutting the door behind her. The whole scene came up as vividly as a dream. The things that had happened since were blotted out.

Magda went on giving her evidence—about being sent out of the way when Mr. Hood arrived—about the sleeping-draught—about Mrs. Maquisten's insistence that she should take her evening off—about what Mr. Harland had said.

“Mr. Harland was present when this was under discussion?”

“Yes. Mrs. Maquisten became very much excited, so Mr. Harland suggested that I should do what she wished. It wasn't at all good for her to be excited. He suggested leaving the sleeping-draught ready for her maid Ellen Bridling to give her.”

A lot of questions about the sleeping-draught.… Yes, it was the one Mrs. Maquisten was in the habit of taking.… No, she didn't take it very often—sometimes not for weeks at a time. She only had one tabloid as a rule, but if she was not asleep by eleven, Dr. Adams said she could have a second one. The tabloids had to be dissolved because she couldn't swallow anything like a pill—she was nervous and said it made her choke. The tabloids dissolved quite easily in hot water—they didn't take more than a minute or two to dissolve.

“And how many tabloids did you dissolve on the evening of November 16th?”

“One.”

“Are you sure of that, Miss Brayle?”

“Positive.”

There seemed to be no end to the questions about the tabloids. Magda answered them all with the same unruffled calm. She had tipped three out into her hand and dissolved one of them in a third of a medicine-glass of hot water.… Yes, that was the glass. She had left it standing on the shelf above the washbasin in the bathroom. When she had put back the spare tabloids there must have been eight or nine left in the bottle. She did not count them, but there would be about that number. When Chief Detective Inspector McGillivray showed her the bottle after Mrs. Maquisten's death there were only three tabloids in it. He asked her whether she had wiped the bottle, and she said no.

“And did you wipe the bottle, Miss Brayle?”

A faint surprised tinge in Magda's voice.

“Oh, no.”

“Can you account for the fact that no fingerprints were found upon it?”

“No, I can't.”

“Your hands were bare when you handled it?”

“Oh, yes.”

“You did not take hold of it with a towel, or a handkerchief, or anything of that sort?”

“Oh, no. I took the bottle up in my right hand and shook the tabloids out into my left. I put the bottle down whilst I dropped one tabloid into the glass. Then I picked it up again, tipped the spare tabloids back, and put it away in the cupboard.”

Questions as to who might have known where the tabloids were kept. Questions designed to elicit the fact that the cupboard was used as a medicine-cupboard—that anyone in the house could have known this—that the cupboard was in any case the first and most obvious place in which to look.

Sir Wilbury gathered up his gown with a characteristic gesture.

“Do you know of any occasion when Miss Silence came into Mrs. Maquisten's bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“When was that?”

“On the Monday morning.”

“The morning of Monday, November 16th?”

“Yes.”

“Will you describe what happened.”

“I had been dusting the cupboard shelves. I had all the bottles out and was beginning to put them back, when Miss Silence came through from the bedroom and said Mrs. Maquisten wanted her smelling-salts. I gave them to her, and she went back again.”

“She could have seen what you were doing?”

“Oh, yes. She took a good look and said, ‘What a lot of bottles!'”

Again Carey remembered very sharply. All those bottles. And she had been sorry for Cousin Honoria.…

Well, they were finished with the tabloids at last. Magda was telling how she had gone out and come home, how she had stood at the connecting door and listened, how she had undressed and gone to bed. Then, in the morning, Ellen coming in frightened because her mistress hadn't waked when she drew the curtains back, and Magda going through to find Honoria Maquisten dead.

Sir Wilbury had finished with his witness. He sat down. Counsel for the defence rose to cross-examine. Carey found herself looking at him with strained attention.

After Sir Wilbury's massive build and handsome presence, Hugo Vane looked like a schoolboy who had somehow reached middle age without growing up. He must have been a cheerful, chubby child with a tendency to bulge. His brown eyes twinkled. His cheeks were round and rosy. The tendency to bulge was perhaps a little more marked. Seen through a diminishing-glass and at a little distance, he might have been a schoolboy still, dressed up in wig and gown. When he began to speak his voice had the same youthful quality. It had none of the vibrations, the range of tone, which Sir Wilbury could command. It was just a fresh, pleasant voice. Speaking to Jeff Stewart, Mr. Mordaunt had commended it. “Makes everything sound easy. Keeps the jury feeling how bright they are. Pleases them.”

In this agreeable voice he now put a number of questions to Magda Brayle. She had been in the bathroom during Mrs. Maquisten's interview with Miss Silence? Washing handkerchiefs, wasn't she? How long did that take? She had been washing them half an hour before Molly James brought up that letter? Very troublesome handkerchiefs to wash, weren't they? And the door was ajar all the time?

Under his skilful management Nurse Brayle began to look like a very deliberate eavesdropper.

“You were in the habit of listening to Mrs. Maquisten's private conversations?”

“Certainly not!”

“But you did a good deal of listening on that Monday afternoon?”

“I had to consider Mrs. Maquisten's health. It wasn't at all good for her to get excited.”

“Mrs. Maquisten was excited?”

“She was very much excited.”

“Sufficiently so to make you nervous as to the effect of this excitement upon her health?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Now, Miss Brayle—what were the relations between Mrs. Maquisten and Miss Silence? I am not asking you about this particular afternoon, but about the preceding fortnight.”

“Mrs. Maquisten had taken a great fancy to Miss Silence. She was very fond of her.”

“She showed her a good deal of affection?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And what about Miss Silence—did she return this affection?”

“She seemed to.”

“They were on terms of mutual affection?”

“It looked as if they were.”

“Now, Miss Brayle—during this conversation, part of which you overheard, you have said that Mrs. Maquisten was very much excited, and you have said that excitement was bad for her health. Would not anyone who was fond of her have done what they could to calm this excitement?”