Patricia Wentworth - The Clock Strikes Twelve

Mark looked at it, frowning.

“What makes you think so?”

“We are informed that Miss Paradine gave four of these small diaries as New Year’s gifts on Thursday evening. The blue one is said to have been given to you. Is that correct?”

Mark had stiffened a little. He said,

“Quite.”

“These diaries were given in the drawing-room after you had joined the ladies there?”

“Yes.”

“You did not come in here between that time and leaving the house at about a quarter to ten?”

“No.”

“Then, Mr. Paradine, will you explain how it came about that the diary was found on this table when the police arrived at a quarter past eight on the following morning? It has your fingerprints and those of the late Mr. Paradine on the cover and on the page dated February 1st, at which place the book had been bent open. Have you an explanation which you would care to give us?”

Mark found himself looking at Miss Silver, who was looking at him. Her gaze was steady and cheerful. It held the encouragement which a teacher extends to a diffident pupil. In some way which he could not explain he found himself encouraged. He said,

“Yes, I think I have. I think I had better tell you just what happened.”

Colonel Bostock cleared his throat again.

“It is my duty to tell you, Paradine, that anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence against you.”

Mark looked at him with something that came quite near to being a smile.

“Thank you, sir-but I’m explaining, not confessing. I went back to my flat in Birleton Mansions and I went out again, just as I told the Superintendent. I wasn’t anxious to tell him where I went, but I suppose it was bound to come out. I came back here because I wanted to see my uncle, and owing to what he had said at dinner I didn’t want the rest of the family to know.”

“God bless my soul! You came back here and saw Mr. Paradine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you get in?”

“I used my old latchkey.”

Colonel Bostock made a slight explosive sound. Vyner said,

“Why did you want to see Mr. Paradine? Do you care to tell us that?”

Mark frowned.

“Yes, I’ll tell you. I’ve been wanting for a long time to be released from the firm in order to join the R.A.F. My uncle has always refused to let me go. That is to say, the decision didn’t rest with him, but there wasn’t much chance of the government’s releasing me unless he said he could do without me here.”

Colonel Bostock looked at him sharply.

“On research work, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go on.”

“My uncle wouldn’t let me go. I came here last night to tell him he’d got to. That’s all.”

“Why?”

“For personal reasons.”

“Going to tell us what they were?”

“No, sir. My uncle’s death has altered everything. I can’t hope to get away now.”

Vyner had been looking at him attentively. He said,

“What sort of interview did you have with Mr. Paradine? Was it friendly?”

“Yes. He agreed to let me go. That’s why the diary had been opened at February 1st. There’s something I’ve been working on-I said I’d be through with it in about a month. He asked me to wait a month and see him again. I said, ‘Four weeks from today?’ and he said, ‘No-a calendar month.’ I remembered the diary my aunt had given me earlier in the evening, so I took it out of my pocket and looked up February 1st-I wanted to see what day it was. Then I handed it over to him, and he said, ‘All right-if you’re still of the same mind then.’ ”

“What happened after that?”

“I went home. I didn’t know I’d left the diary here. I didn’t think about it again.”

“What time did you leave?”

“I don’t know-about half past eleven, I should think.”

“No one saw you come or go?”

“Not as far as I know.”

Vyner paused for a moment. Then he said,

“Mr. Wray and Mr. Pearson came down for a drink at 11:30. Mr. Wray says he got an impression that the front door was closing as he entered the hall. That would fit in with your time.”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Paradine-on what sort of terms did you part with your uncle? Were they friendly?”

Miss Silver saw a muscle twitch in the dark cheek. The black brows drew together. He said,

“Yes.”

“He was alive when you left him?”

Under the frowning brows the eyes blazed for a moment. There was a noticeable pause before Mark Paradine got out his second,

“Yes.”

Miss Silver broke the ensuing silence with a little cough.

“Mr. Paradine, can you tell us just what was on the writing-table when you were here on Thursday night?”

A faint surprise showed itself in his face.

“What do you mean?”

She said, “Just try to visualize the table as you saw it then, and tell me as many of the things on it as you can remember.”

His frown this time was one of concentration.

“I don’t know-I wasn’t noticing. I should say it was all very much as it is now.”

“Pray go on, Mr. Paradine. Just name the things. You may find yourself recalling something.”

The frown deepened, contradicted by a half humorous, half impatient lift of the lip. He said,

“Well, all the things you see-inkstand-pen- pencils-blotting-pad-writing-block-”

“That is something which is not here now.”

“The writing-block? He had one in front of him whilst we were talking-I am sure about that. There wasn’t anything written on it.”

“Pray continue.”

“I can’t think of anything else.”

“A calendar? Miss Paradine happened to mention that he always used a plain card calendar.”

Mark shook his head.

“No, there wasn’t any calendar, otherwise I wouldn’t have got out mine. Of course it was the last day of the year. I expect he had thrown the old one away and the new one hadn’t been put out.”

“Was there nothing on this corner of the table between myself and the Superintendent?”

“Only the newspaper.”

Miss Silver said, “Dear me! There was a newspaper all across this corner?”

“Yes-the Times. He must have been reading it.”

“Mr. Paradine, can you remember whether the paper was lying flat? In your recollection would there have been room under it for, let us say, Mr. Wray’s blue-prints? I understand that they were contained in a cardboard cylinder. Would there have been room for it under the newspaper?”

A look of consternation came over his face. His eyes went to Vyner, to the Chief Constable.

“They’re not missing! Was that what my uncle meant?”

Colonel Bostock said,

“Only just occurred to you?”

Mark had made a movement to rise, but it did not get him to his feet. He came down again, leaning forward across the table and looking from one to the other.

Colonel Bostock said sharply,

“Come, Paradine! What did you think your uncle meant by saying one of you had betrayed the family interests? Not a pleasant thing to say-not a pleasant thing to hear. What did you think he meant?”

“He’d missed the prints? It was that?”

“I asked you what you thought at the time, Paradine.”

Mark straightened himself up again.

“I’m sorry, sir. I never thought about the prints.”

“Indeed? Then I’d like to know what you did think.”

Mark was silent for perhaps half a minute. It seemed like a long time. Then he said,

“I’ll tell you, sir. The whole thing was a shock, naturally-not pleasant to listen to, as you say. I never thought about the prints. I didn’t know what to think. I was a good deal taken up with my own affairs, and when I came to think things over I wondered if he was referring to me. It sounds a bit exaggerated, but he always did go off the deep end at the idea of my leaving the firm. The last time we talked about it he said things that weren’t very different to what he said on Thursday night.”