Silence in Court (30 page)

Nora gave her casual laugh.

“Yes. And see the water's boiling—there's an angel.”

Molly departed, obviously bursting with curiosity. Nora began to pour out.

“Jeff's been seeing Mark Aylwin. Oh—Mrs. Deeping's made us peanut-butter toast! Carey, that's for you. We have to drag it out of her by inches—or don't I mean that? Anyhow Jeff really has got news—they've arrested Ernest. Go on, Jeff, tell us about it! Carey, here's your tea and the butteriest bit of toast.”

Jeff gave her the cap and then propped himself against the mantelpiece on her side of the hearth. He said,

“Well, I went to see Mr. Aylwin for reasons of my own, and rather to my surprise he came across and told me things. Hood was arrested about an hour ago.”

Nora exclaimed, “But McGillivray never told me! I call that low!”

“The police don't tell everything they know. I was rather surprised that Aylwin did, but I thought he wanted to be friendly, and it will all be in the papers when Hood comes up before the magistrates. It seems one of Aylwin's clerks, an old fellow called Sharp, came to him last night and said that after hearing Miss Gwent's evidence there was something he thought Aylwin ought to know. He said he hadn't thought of it as important until yesterday, when he was in court for the first time, heard Miss Gwent, and saw Ellen. He said he remembered everything that happened on November 16th, both because of the case and because of Aylwin being away. He remembered Hood being sent for by Mrs. Maquisten. He says he got back to the office again at a little after half past four and quit just before half past five, leaving Sharp to close up. Just after he had gone Sharp remembered something he had meant to ask Hood. He locked up and hurried after him. Well, he saw him meet Ellen—that is to say he saw him meet a woman whom he identified yesterday as Ellen Bridling. As they were in very deep conversation, he didn't like to interrupt them and sheered off without being seen. But before he did so he had come up pretty close. There was a crowd on the pavement. The shops along there all close at half past five, and the sidewalks were full of people going home. He was right up behind Hood before it got home on him that something of the nature of a private conversation was going on. People do talk like that in a crowd—I've done it myself. Well, he was just going to touch Hood on the arm and ask whatever it was he had run after him to ask, when he heard him say, ‘Look here, there's nothing to worry about—I've got it all planned. You've just got to do exactly what I tell you and everything will be quite all right.' When Sharp heard that he thought he'd better not butt in. He edged away out of the crowd and cut down a side street. He said he never thought about any of it again until he heard Miss Gwent's evidence yesterday and recognized Ellen Bridling in court. Then it came back to him, and the more he thought about it, the less he felt he could keep it to himself. He didn't sleep all night, and by the time Aylwin went out for lunch he'd got to the point where he followed him and made a clean breast of it. Aylwin took him off to Scotland Yard, and they've collected Hood.”

Carey had the giddy feeling of things sliding past her, sliding away. She shut her eyes and leaned back against the cushions of her chair. There were two cushions, one blue and one green. She put her head against the blue cushion and waited for the giddy feeling to pass. A hand came down and took away the cup and plate which had slid together in her lap. She thought it was Jeff Stewart's hand. She looked through her lashes, and was aware of him sitting on the arm of her chair, screening her from the others. Dennis had moved round to the other side of the table. There was so much of Jeff that he made a very adequate screen. She thought, “It's nice of him—and nice not to make a fuss.” He put down the plate and cup and went on talking. They all talked, except Carey.

And then Molly opened the door and said, “Please, ma'am, Miss Honor's here,” and Nora jumped up and ran out, dragging Dennis with her. Carey heard a tempestuous “I don't care what you say, Den! You've
got
to come—you've got to be nice to her for once in your life!”

They went out. The door banged.

Jeff turned round and took hold of Carey's hands.

“You're cold,” he said.

His hands were very warm and strong. Carey opened her eyes and smiled. “I'm all right, Jeff. It was just a little like being in a train—everything going past—rather quick—”

“Let it go, honey.”

“You haven't called me that for a long time.”

“Are you going to let me? You used to say, ‘No.'”

“Did I? It's such a long time ago.”

“It doesn't matter how long it is as far as I'm concerned. You know that.”

“Yes—you said so in court. It was a dreadfully public proposal, Jeff.”

Still holding her hands, he said, “You didn't give me any answer either then or the first time. Do I get one now?”

Her lashes came down. She said haltingly,

“I—don't know, Jeff. I don't think—I—ought to.”

“Why?”

“You've been so good. I don't know what I'd done without you—” Her voice went away into a murmur.

The very strong hands which were holding hers tightened painfully. “If you're thinking of having me out of gratitude, honey, I'm not taking any.”

Her eyes opened with a startled expression.

“I didn't say anything about having you.”

“Won't you?”

She hadn't known that his voice could be so melting soft. It made her breath catch and her words stumble.

“You oughtn't—to marry—someone—who's been mixed up—in a murder.”

“We've both been mixed up in it. Now we're in the clear again. I don't propose we shall spend our lives raking over the garbage.”

“Other people will.”

He laughed. “They'll soon stop. Of course if you're going to get down on your hands and knees and rake too, you can spoil your life and my life, but it would be a pretty foolish thing to do. We've got a good life coming.”

Carey began to feel, “Yes, we have,” but what she said was,

“Have we?”

He let go of her, laying her hands down gently in her lap. Then he said soberly, “If you want it that way. Do you?”

The hands had been warm. Now they began to feel cold again. When Carey lifted them they shook a little. They went out towards him with a groping movement, but he did not touch them. Instead he put his arms right round her and said,

“Going to take me, honey?”

Carey said, “Yes.”

About the Author

Patricia Wentworth (1878–1961) was one of the masters of classic English mystery writing. Born in India as Dora Amy Elles, she began writing after the death of her first husband, publishing her first novel in 1910. In the 1920s, she introduced the character who would make her famous: Miss Maud Silver, the former governess whose stout figure, fondness for Tennyson, and passion for knitting served to disguise a keen intellect. Along with Agatha Christie's Miss Marple, Miss Silver is the definitive embodiment of the English style of cozy mysteries.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1945 by Patricia Wentworth Turnbull

Cover design by Maurcio Díaz

ISBN: 978-1-5040-3323-7

This edition published in 2016 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

180 Maiden Lane

New York, NY 10038

www.openroadmedia.com

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