Patricia Wentworth - Latter End

“Well, that’s just about upset the apple-cart! I suppose I’ve got to be grateful you dug it out of her before we started on the inquest.”

Miss Silver coughed. She opined that it might be considered as providential.

Lamb was looking at her with a curious mixture of irritation and respect. He gave a short laugh and repeated her last word.

“Providential? Well, I don’t know about that-unless you mean that heaven helps those who help themselves. You’re first class at doing that, I should say. But what I want to know is, what made you think the girl had anything to tell? She wasn’t near the drawing-room, and in the ordinary way she hadn’t anything to do with Mrs. Latter. What made you think she knew something?”

Miss Silver’s hands were busy with her knitting. Derek’s stocking, now of a substantial length, revolved.

“She was afraid.”

Lamb nodded.

“That’s where you’ve got an advantage. When we come into a house after a murder, everyone’s afraid of us, everyone’s watching his step, nobody’s normal-to look for a frightened person is like looking for a pin in a packet of pins. Now you mix with the family. They’re not afraid of you because they don’t know what you’re up to. You sit there with your knitting, and they think that’s all you’ve got on your mind. They don’t bother about you. It gives you a pull, you know.”

She inclined her head.

“I have no doubt, Chief Inspector, that if Polly had been bringing your early tea instead of mine, you would have discerned, as I did, that she had something to conceal.”

Lamb glowered.

“I don’t take the stuff! But there you are, it’s just what I said-you’ve got a pull. Frank, ring up Crampton 121 and ask whether they’ve identified that powder yet. If it’s morphia it shouldn’t take long.”

He sat back in his chair while Frank got the number- listened to his question; listened, frowning, to the vague buzz of the reply; heard Frank say, “Quite so,” and then, “All right, I’ll tell him.”

He hung up.

“It’s morphia all right.”

Miss Silver’s needles clicked. Lamb lifted his hand and let it fall again upon his knee.

“Then she committed suicide. Well, I’m blessed! If that doesn’t beat the band!”

Miss Silver gave her slight arresting cough.

“I think it would be as well if you were to see Miss Mercer.”

Lamb turned to face her.

“Miss Mercer? What’s it got to do with Miss Mercer?”

Miss Silver knitted equably.

“I should like to put some questions to her in your presence if you have no objection.”

Frank Abbott was looking at her too. There was a faint sarcastic sparkle in his eye. He murmured,

“You can’t go on pulling aces out of your sleeve, you know.”

Miss Silver smiled above the clicking needles.

Lamb said roughly, “A little less of your lip, my lad! Better go and get her.”

When the door had closed he turned his reproof upon Miss Silver.

“When I let you in on this case I thought you undertook not to conceal evidence from the police.”

She met his frown serenely.

“But I have concealed nothing, Chief Inspector. Polly’s evidence only came to me this morning. I went straight from her to the telephone. The incident about which I should like to question Miss Mercer occurred in the middle of the night. I have purposely refrained from asking her about it until I could do so in your presence.”

He opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again with an exasperated “Tchah!” After which he drummed on his knee, and Miss Silver continued to knit until the door opened and Minnie Mercer came in with Frank Abbott behind her. She looked perceptibly more worn than she had done yesterday. There was, if possible, less colour in the tired gentle eyes and in the blanched fair skin. The smudges under the eyes were deeper and more like bruises. She sat down on the far side of the table, folded her hands in her lap, and looked at the Chief Inspector. He shook his head.

“It’s Miss Silver who has something she wants to ask you about.”

Minnie Mercer moved, slipping round in the chair until she was leaning against the arm instead of the back. It seemed as if she needed something to lean against. Frank Abbott had the impression that without it she might just have slipped down on to the floor. She turned the same dumb, acquiescent look upon Miss Silver as she had done upon the Chief Inspector.

Miss Silver did not keep her waiting. She said very kindly and gently,

“Miss Mercer, do you know that you sometimes walk in your sleep?”

She was certainly startled. A faint tremor went over her. She said with a catch in her voice,

“I did when I was a girl-after an illness I had-I didn’t know that I ever did it now.”

Miss Silver went on knitting.

“You have done it twice in the last few days-on the night before last, and last night.”

She said, “I didn’t know-” The words were so faint that they could only just be heard.

“On the first occasion Miss Vane followed you down into the hall. She put her arm round you and brought you back to your room. I was watching from the landing. She was very kind and careful, and you did not wake, but just as you got into bed you said in a very distressed voice, ‘What have I done!’ ”

Lamb was sitting so that he could see both women. He was still frowning, but the character of the frown had changed. It indicated concentration now instead of anger. He saw that faint tremor pass over Minnie Mercer again. She did not speak.

Miss Silver continued.

“Last night you walked in your sleep again. I was prepared, and I followed you. You went down into the hall, and just as you reached it Miss Vane came out of her room. By the time she had joined us you were crossing the hall in the direction of the drawing-room. When I saw where you were going I passed you and put on a light. You did not need it, but it was necessary that Miss Vane and I should be able to watch what you did. You were dreaming. Miss Mercer, do you remember your dream?”

“I don’t-know-”

“I will tell you what you did. You stood and looked into the room. You seemed distressed, and you said, ‘No, no-he doesn’t like it!’ Then you went to the small table near the middle of the room. That is the table upon which Miss Vane placed the coffee-tray on Wednesday night.”

Minnie Mercer said, “Yes-” The sound just carried and no more.

“You put out your hand towards the table. You stood there for a moment. Then you turned a little to the right and went over to Mr. Latter’s chair. The table beside it is the one upon which his coffee-cup was placed on Wednesday night. You put out your hand again. You put out your hand as if you were holding something-you put it out as if you were setting something down. Miss Mercer-on Wednesday night did you take a cup of coffee from the tray and carry it over to the table beside Mr. Latter’s chair?”

Minnie looked at her with dilated eyes. She made the sound that she had made before. They thought the sound was “Yes-”

“When you took that cup from the tray, were there two cups there, or only one?”

Minnie said, “One-”

“When you went over to the table by Mr. Latter’s chair, was there a cup there already?”

“Yes-”

“What did you do?”

“I changed the cups.”

“You put down the one you had brought from the tray and took up the other?”

“Yes-I changed the cups.”

“Will you tell us why you did this?”

A long sigh lifted her breast.

“Yes-I’ll tell you. Oh, I didn’t want Jimmy to know-but it can’t be helped-”

Lamb said, “Miss Mercer, it is my duty to warn you that what you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you.”