Rebecca

Frith glanced at Maxim. Maxim nodded shortly.

Frith went out of the room. 'Isn't Mrs Danvers the housekeeper?' said Colonel Julyan.

'She was also Rebecca's personal friend,' said Favell. 'She was with her for years before she married and practically brought her up. You are going to find Danny a very different sort of witness to Ben.'

Frank came back into the room. 'Packed Ben off to bed?' said Favell. 'Given him his supper and told him he was a good boy? This time it won't be quite so easy for the trade union.'

'Mrs Danvers is coming down,' said Colonel Julyan. 'Favell seems to think he will get something out of her.'

Frank glanced quickly at Maxim. Colonel Julyan saw the glance. I saw his lips tighten. I did not like it. No, I did not like it. I began biting my nails.

We all waited, watching the door. And Mrs Danvers came into the room. Perhaps it was because I had generally seen her alone, and beside me she had seemed tall and gaunt, but she looked shrunken now in size, more wizened, and I noticed she had to look up to Favell and to Frank and Maxim. She stood by the door, her hands folded in front of her, looking from one to the other of us.

'Good evening, Mrs Danvers,' said Colonel Julyan.

'Good evening, sir,' she said.

Her voice was that old, dead, mechanical one I had heard so often.

'First of all, Mrs Danvers, I want to ask you a question,' said Colonel Julyan, 'and the question is this. Were you aware of the relationship between the late Mrs de Winter and Mr Favell here?'

'They were first cousins,' said Mrs Danvers.

'I was not referring to blood-relationship, Mrs Danvers,' said Colonel Julyan. 'I mean something closer than that.'

'I'm afraid I don't understand, sir,' said Mrs Danvers.

'Oh, come off it, Danny,' said Favell; 'you know damn well what he's driving at. I've told Colonel Julyan already, but he doesn't seem to believe me. Rebecca and I had lived together off and on for years, hadn't we? She was in love with me. wasn't she?'

To my surprise Mrs Danvers considered him a moment without speaking, and there was something of scorn in the glance she gave him.

'She was not,' she said.

'Listen here, you old fool…' began Favell, but Mrs Danvers cut him short.

'She was not in love with you, or with Mr de Winter. She was not in love with anyone. She despised all men. She was above all that.'

Favell flushed angrily. 'Listen here. Didn't she come down the path through the woods to meet me, night after night? Didn't you wait up for her? Didn't she spend the weekends with me in London?'

'Well?' said Mrs Danvers, with sudden passion, 'and what if she did? She had a right to amuse herself, hadn't she. Love-making was a game with her, only a game. She told me so. She did it because it made her laugh. It made her laugh, I tell you. She laughed at you like she did at the rest. I've known her come back and sit upstairs in her bed and rock with laughter at the lot of you.'

There was something horrible in the sudden torrent of words, something horrible and unexpected. It revolted me, even though I knew. Maxim had gone very white. Favell stared at her blankly, as though he had not understood. Colonel July an tugged at his small moustache. No one said anything for a few minutes. And there was no sound but that inevitable falling rain. Then Mrs Danvers began to cry. She cried like she had done that morning in the bedroom. I could not look at her. I had to turn away. No one said anything. There were just the two sounds in the room, the falling rain and Mrs Danvers crying. It made me want to scream. I wanted to run out of the room and scream and scream.

No one moved towards her, to say anything, or to help her. She went on crying. Then at last, it seemed eternity, she began to control herself. Little by little the crying ceased. She stood quite still, her face working, her hands clutching the black stuff of her frock. At last she was silent again. Then Colonel Julyan spoke, quietly, slowly.

'Mrs Danvers,' he said, 'can you think of any reason, however remote, why Mrs de Winter should have taken her own life?'

Mrs Danvers swallowed. She went on clutching at her frock. She shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'No.'

'There, you see?' Favell said swiftly. 'It's impossible. She knows that as well as I do. I've told you already.'

'Be quiet, will you?' said Colonel Julyan. 'Give Mrs Danvers time to think. We all of us agree that on the face of it the thing's absurd, out of the question. I'm not disputing the truth or veracity of that note of yours. It's plain for us to see. She wrote you that note some time during those hours she spent in London. There was something she wanted to tell you. It's just possible that if we knew what that something was we might have the answer to the whole appalling problem. Let Mrs Danvers read the note. She may be able to throw light on it.' Favell shrugged his shoulders. He felt in his pocket for the note and threw it on the floor at Mrs Danvers' feet. She stooped and picked it up. We watched her lips move as she read the words. She read it twice. Then she shook her head. 'It's no use,' she said. 'I don't know what she meant. If there was something important she had to tell Mr Jack she would have told me first.'

'You never saw her that night?'

'No, I was out. I was spending the afternoon and evening in Kerrith. I shall never forgive myself for that. Never till my dying day.'

'Then you know of nothing on her mind, you can't suggest a solution, Mrs Danvers? Those words 'I have something to tell you' do not convey anything to you at all?'

'No,' she answered. 'No, sir, nothing at all.'

'Does anybody know how she spent that day in London?'

Nobody answered. Maxim shook his head. Favell swore under his breath. 'Look here, she left that note at my flat at three in the afternoon,' he said. 'The porter saw her. She must have driven down here straight after that, and gone like the wind too.'

'Mrs de Winter had a hair appointment from twelve until one thirty,' said Mrs Danvers. 'I remember that, because I had to telephone through to London from here earlier in the week and book it for her. I remember doing it. Twelve to one thirty. She always lunched at her club after a hair appointment so that she could leave the pins in her hair. It's almost certain she lunched there that day.'

'Say it took her half an hour to have lunch; what was she doing from two until three? We ought to verify that,' said Colonel Julyan.

'Oh, Christ Jesus, who the hell cares what she was doing?' shouted Favell. 'She didn't kill herself, that's the only thing that matters, isn't it?'

'I've got her engagement diary locked in my room,' said Mrs Danvers slowly. 'I kept all those things. Mr de Winter never asked me for them. It's just possible she may have noted down her appointments for that day. She was methodical in that way. She used to put everything down and then tick the items off with a cross. If you think it would be helpful I'll go and fetch the diary.'

'Well, de Winter?' said Colonel Julyan, 'what do you say? Do you mind us seeing this diary?'

'Of course not,' said Maxim. 'Why on earth should I?'

Once again I saw Colonel Julyan give him that swift, curious glance. And this time Frank noticed it. I saw Frank look at Maxim too. And then back again to me. This time it was I who got up and went towards the window. It seemed to me that it was no longer raining quite so hard. The fury was spent. The rain that was falling now had a quieter, softer note. The grey light of evening had come into the sky. The lawns were dark and drenched with the heavy rain, and the trees had a shrouded humped appearance. I could hear the housemaid overhead drawing the curtains for the night, shutting down the windows that had not been closed already. The little routine of the day going on inevitably as it had always done. The curtains drawn, shoes taken down to be cleaned, the towel laid out on the chair in the bathroom, and the water run for my bath. Beds turned down, slippers put beneath a chair. And here were we in the library, none of us speaking, knowing in our hearts that Maxim was standing trial here for his life.

I turned round when I heard the soft closing of the door. It was Mrs Danvers. She had come back again with the diary in her hand.