Patricia Wentworth - Danger Point

He saw Dale frown, and thought his shot had gone home.

“I have not the slightest objection to making a statement.”

Mr. Jerningham could be haughty when he liked. He was being haughty now.

Inspector March permitted himself an inward smile.

“Thank you. I am sure you will understand that we want as much information as possible about this man Pell.”

Dale nodded.

“Naturally. I dismissed him on this girl’s account. I had no fault to find with his work – he is a very good mechanic. But he had been passing as a single man, and when it came out that he was married I had a complaint from the elder Miss Cole about his intentions to her niece.”

“Miss Cole asked you to dismiss him?”

“No – she wouldn’t do that. But she was very upset. She had just heard of his having a wife over at Packham – he comes from there. The Coles have been tenants of my family for a great many years, and I felt bound to do something about it. I gave the man his money and told him to clear out.”

“Did you know that he had got a job up at the aerodrome?” said the Inspector.

Dale’s shoulder lifted.

“Yes – it was none of my business. He’s an excellent mechanic.”

“Miss Cole did not make any further appeal to you?”

Dale shook his head.

“She came to see my wife yesterday afternoon.”

“Didn’t you see her yourself?”

“No.”

“And later in the evening Cissie Cole came here also – to see Mrs. Jerningham?”

“I believe she did.”

“You didn’t see her?”

“No.”

The Inspector sat back. Mr Jerningham had found his tongue, but was not very free with it. He said,

“Would you mind telling me what you yourself did during the rest of the evening?”

“Certainly. My cousin, Lady Steyne, drove me up to the aerodrome. I had fixed up to do some night flying.”

“Do you remember what time it was when you left the house?”

“About ten minutes past nine, I think.”

“Was Cissie Cole still here?”

“I don’t know – I suppose she was. We were having coffee on the terrace, and my wife had not come back. She was fetched away to see Cissie.”

“You didn’t happen to pass the girl in the drive then, or see her later?”

Dale shifted again. His arm came down. He said,

“Certainly not.”

“Did you go straight to the aerodrome?”

“Well, no, we didn’t. It was a lovely evening, and we drove about a bit.”

“Did you go in the direction of Tane Head?”

“Yes – in that sort of direction.”

“And did you stop your car and walk up on to the headland?”

Dale made an abrupt movement.

“Look here, Inspector-”

He met a very steady, intelligent gaze. Inspector March said equably,

“Lady Steyne’s car was seen standing by the track which leads on to the headland from Berry Lane. You will understand that I am anxious to know who else was on the cliffs last night. How long were you there?”

Dale Jerningham sat forward.

“I don’t know – some time – we walked about a bit.”

“Did you go right up to the headland?”

“Yes, I think we did.”

“Did you see anyone whilst you were there?”

“There were some children in the lane.”

“No one else?”

Dale was silent.

“Mr Jerningham, if you did see anyone, it is a serious matter for you to withhold the fact.”

There was a moment of doubt and something like strain. Then it gave. Dale said,

“I appreciate that. It is just because it may be serious that I hesitate. You see, the person I saw was Pell.”

The Inspector looked at him keenly.

“Where did you see him?”

“He was coming down from the headland. He passed us and got on his motorbike and rode away.”

“What time was that?”

“I don’t know – somewhere well before ten. There was still some light.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t know. We saw him.”

The Inspector was silent for a while. If Pell had a motor-bike, there would have been time to pick Cissie up at the gates of Tanfield Court or on the road into the village. There would have been time for him to reach the headland with her, leaving his machine in the lane or on the track to the cliff. There would have been time-

He asked suddenly, “Where was the motor-bike?”

“Up along the track,” said Dale.

“How far from the lane?”

“Half way to the cliff.”

“Was he in a hurry?”

“In the devil of a hurry. That is why I wasn’t sure whether he had seen us. He came running down the track, flung himself on the bike, started up, and went tearing away like mad.”

Inspector March wrote that down. He was thinking, “Well – ce n’est que le premier pas qui coûte . One minute he won’t say anything because the man is a poor devil who’s been in his employ, and the next he’s positively offering me the rope to hang him with.” He looked up and asked,

“You didn’t see any sign of the girl?”

“No.”

“Or hear any cry?”

“No- nothing. There are always seagulls.”

“What did you do after that, Mr. Jerningham?”

“I think we walked up towards the cliff.”

“And you neither saw nor heard anything of an unusual nature?”

“No.”

“And when did you reach the aerodrome?”

Dale leaned back.

“About eleven o’clock.”

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?”