Patricia Wentworth - Through The Wall

As Penny lifted her hand to it she heard Cassy Remington say in her light, high voice,

“I shall say Felix did it.”

The hand which Penny had lifted stayed where it was, just short of the switch. It did not seem to belong to her any more. There was a streak of light in front of her eyes along the edge of the door, and there was Cassy Remington’s voice saying, “I shall say Felix did it.” She saw the light, she heard the words. She felt nothing. She stood quite still and waited for what would come next.

Florence Brand made a sound of some kind. Cassy Remington’s voice went higher.

“I shall say he did it, and the police will take him away, and then we shall have a little peace.”

This time Florence spoke. Her voice had the same sound as before, an odd heavy tone that might have been disapproval. She said,

“They don’t believe everything you tell them.”

Cassy laughed angrily.

“They’ll believe this. Because it’s only reasonable. Who else had any reason to kill Helen Adrian-answer me that! You can’t, can you? Nobody can. He was crazy about her-crazy with jealousy. He saw the light on that blue and yellow scarf she was wearing over her head, and he followed her down to the terrace and pushed her over the edge after Cyril Felton had come in. And then of course Cyril guessed and tried to blackmail him, and he killed him too.”

Florence Brand said,

“How do you know?”

There was that high, excited laugh again.

“I saw him come in at the gate.”

“When did you see him?”

“I was looking for Penny out of this window. She is always so forgetful when she is with Felix-I wanted to know whether she would be back to get the tea. I came in here, and I looked out of the window. I’m going to tell the police what I did, and I’m going to tell them I saw Felix come in off the road.”

“And did you?”

“Really, Florence -what a thing to say! Of course I did!”

“He didn’t come in till after the police got here.”

Cassy Remington said with enjoyment,

“Oh, yes, he did. I looked out of the window, and I saw him. He came in at twenty to five. I saw him, but he didn’t see me, because I stood behind the curtain.”

Florence Brand said slowly,

“He couldn’t have got here. Penny left him up on the cliff at five-and-twenty to five.”

“And you believe her! She would lie her head off for Felix, and you know it! Besides, her watch might be wrong, or anything. And he could have run after her and got here very nearly as soon as she did, couldn’t he? The police won’t take any notice of what Penny says. They won’t have any opportunity-I can promise you that!” She laughed.

There was a sound in the room as if Florence Brand was getting to her feet with one of her ponderous movements. Penny heard her say,

“You had better be careful, Cassy. You had better sleep on it. I don’t think-”

“You never do,” said Cassy Remington in a spiteful voice. “You haven’t enough brain, and you are too indolent. But you had better do what you can to back me up. They’ve taken that dress of yours away, you know, and when they find there’s a bloodstain all down the front-”

Florence Brand said, “A bloodstain!” Her voice had a shocked sound. Then she seemed to pull herself together.

“Really, Cassy, I don’t know what you are thinking about! You know as well as I do that it was the juice out of the tart at lunch.”

“Are you sure about that? Are you really quite sure? I wouldn’t be too sure if I were you.”

“You were there-you saw me spill the juice.”

“Did I? Do you know, I wouldn’t like to have to swear to it.”

“Penny saw-”

“I don’t think we need bother about Penny.”

“It was fruit juice. They can tell that by testing it.”

Cassy laughed, high up and shrill.

“Oh, my dear Florence, I have a feeling that they will find something much more interesting than currant juice! That is one of the reasons I am going to tell the police about Felix. He could have come in, you know, and wiped the knife on your skirt whilst you were reading about the Wessex Parson. Or perhaps better let the Parson go, and stick to it that you were fast asleep and snoring. I don’t mind saying you were. After all, I am your sister.”

She was coming towards the door, but before she reached it she turned to say something more. What it was, Penny didn’t know. Her hand dropped to her side, her feet took her quickly, silently across the landing. She hesitated for a moment, and then went into Cassy Remington’s room and shut the door.

It was at this point that Miss Silver drew back from the sill upon which she had been leaning. The conversation which she had overheard alarmed her very much. She considered that the time had come to take a step of which the Chief Constable could not possibly approve, a fact which she deplored without allowing this in any way to deflect her.

As she emerged upon the landing she observed that Richard Cunningham’s door was ajar. On the impulse, she turned and knocked. It was opened immediately, and showed him to be fully dressed. When he had joined her on the landing she said, in a low tone,

“Mr. Cunningham, I am not easy. Will you do just what I ask you?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I am going through into the other house. The door has been unlocked, and I have taken the precaution of oiling the bolts. If I call you, come at once. If I do not, stay in the passage on this side of the door.”

“Do you want me to call Wilkins?”

“No-there must be no noise. If there should be any disturbance, you can call to him. I think you had better take off your shoes.”

A low-powered bulb afforded enough light for him to see that she had not neglected this precaution herself, and that even in black woollen stockings her feet were remarkably neat. They carried her without any sound at all past Ina Felton’s empty room to the door between the houses. When he joined her there the bolts were drawn back and she was turning the handle. The passage and the landing beyond were dark, a circumstance which she considered providential.

Leaving the door ajar behind her, she went forward along the passage and disappeared from Richard Cunningham’s view.

Cassy Remington came across the landing from her sister’s room. She did not put on the light, because she had lived nearly twenty years in the house and could have walked about it blindfold either by day or by night. As she opened her bedroom door, someone moved over by the window.

On the instant her hand was at the switch. The light showed Penny very pale. She had been leaning out filling her lungs with the fresh salt-tasting air. She stood up now and fixed her eyes upon Cassy Remington.

“Good gracious me-what a fright you gave me, Penny! What are you doing in the dark? And what do you want?”

“I want to speak to you.”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? And half the insects in the cove will be here too, with the windows open and the light drawing them.” She came across the room at a run as she spoke, pulled the casements to, drew the curtains across them, and said sharply, “Well, what is it?”

As she came back into the middle of the room, Penny’s eyes followed her. It was a crowded place. There was a big old-fashioned bed, a monumental wardrobe, a tallboy, a double wash-stand with a marble top, a pedestal table in polished walnut covered with knick-knacks, photograph-frames and odds and ends. A steaming cup of coffee rested upon the latest book from Miss Cassy’s library list. In the middle of everything else Penny found room to wonder about the coffee, because Cassy never took it at night-she said it kept her awake. At a second impatient “Well?” she said,