'Get out the car,' Roger said briskly. 'There's half an hour yet before dinner. We'll go and see her.'
'Right you are,' agreed Ronald, impressed. Miss Aldersley lived in a large house on the farther side of Westerford. Ronald was able to arrange an interview with her without disturbing the Aldersley parents. She was tearful, and much impressed by the idea that she might be of help. Roger explained the object of the visit. 'If you had any such letters,' he said smoothly, 'it would help to shorten the proceedings at the inquest, I fancy, and any way in which we can do that will of course help, too, to lessen the scandal, Miss Aldersley.'
'It's too dreadful,' sobbed Miss Aldersley, who was fair and fluffy and of a type to be impressed by her late friend's histrionics. 'Poor, poor Ena! How could she ever have done such a thing?'
'Yes, but has she ever written to you of it in her letters?' Roger asked patiently.
'Oh, yes. Often, poor darling. But I never thought she would really ever do such a thing. Oh, I shall never forgive myself, never. Do you think I could possibly have prevented it? You don't, Mr. Sheringham, do you?' Roger was tactful and set about obtaining possession of the letters.
Miss Aldersley, convinced at last that she would only be serving her dead friend's best interests by handing them over, agreed without much difficulty and went off to find them.
Roger carried them away with him in triumph.
'Don't take them to the police,' he said, as he gave them to Ronald in the car a minute later. 'I don't trust them. Take them round to the coroner yourself, directly after dinner. He'll probably be quite glad of the chance of a private word with you, too, as he knows you personally.' On such small details, Roger told himself with some satisfaction, is the unassailable case built.
But calling in on Colin that night for a last word before going to bed, Roger found that a certain uneasiness still remained with him.
'We've got our stories all pat,' he said, sitting on the bed and watching Colin brush his hair, 'but we must allow for the unexpected. I don't think the police are likely now to ask for an adjournment tomorrow; but after Ronald's attitude, if they have by any remote chance got something up their sleeves for us, they'll have been keeping it darker than ever.'
Colin looked round from his dressing table. 'But what could they have up their sleeves, man?'
'Goodness knows. But I wish now I'd played that superintendent a little more tactfully. Ah, well, we must just sit tight and know nothing, that's all. If only that David doesn't let us all down . . .'
CHAPTER XIV
INQUEST ON A VILE BODY
THE coroner shuffled his papers. 'Well, gentlemen, that being so, we'll proceed to hear the evidence. Mr. Stratton, will you . . . Mr. David Stratton I should have said. Yes. Now, Mr. Stratton, I quite realize that this is a very painful occasion for you. Very painful indeed. You may be sure that we won't trouble you more than necessary, but it is my duty to ask you a few questions. Now let me see. Yes. Perhaps the best thing would be for you to tell us exactly what led up to this distressing event, yes.'
Roger held his breath. He need not have been alarmed. David gave his evidence clearly and without faltering. He spoke in much the same abrupt, almost jerky tones as those with which he had first answered the questions of Inspector Crane, but now they appeared nothing but a cloak for nervousness.
The coroner was as kind to him as possible and led him in a way which, Roger considered, might have given a suspicious superintendent of police some pain. (Ronald's call on the coroner the previous evening had been an excellent move.) After telling his story, David was asked a few questions about his own movements, but only, it seemed, with the object of finding out why he had not followed his wife out of the ballroom and whether, had he done so shortly afterwards, it would not have been possible to avert the tragedy; to which David frankly replied that his wife very often behaved in an odd way, and he had no anticipation at all that this performance in particular might have serious consequences. As for ringing up the police station later, he had learned a long time ago from Dr. Chalmers that his wife could not be held to be always strictly accountable for her actions, and being worried over her disappearance had thought it best to take this precaution; he had never done so before, because the occasion had never arisen. Altogether, Roger thought admiringly, David could not have carried greater conviction had he been innocent.
'Yes,' clucked the elderly little coroner. 'Quite so. This is very distressing for you, Mr. Stratton, I know, but I am bound to ask you. With regard to what you say about your wife's behaviour at times ...'
David gave instances, shortly and with obvious reluctance. Mrs. Stratton had been subject to profound fits of depression; she was accustomed occasionally, in company, to drink for effect, though it was impossible to call her a drunkard; she often lost her temper over trifles and would then rave and storm in a quite unbalanced way; she would worry for days over the most insignificant things; and so on.
When at last David was released, Roger felt that the worst was over. And evidently the police had not asked for an adjournment, so perhaps no surprises might be expected after all.
Ronald Stratton followed his brother, and he too gave nothing away. Confirming David's account of Ena's behaviour at the party and her loss of temper over their horseplay, which Ronald manfully admitted to have been mistaken with so touchy a subject, he told of the anxiety about her disappearance which had resulted in the prolonged search, and of the finding of the body. He spoke with sincerity and frankness and obviously created an excellent impression on the jury.
Questioned by the coroner, he not only agreed with David's estimate of the dead woman's mental instability, but conveyed the impression, without actually saying so, that David had been loyally minimizing this lack of balance, which in reality was a great deal more pronounced than he had suggested. He added further examples of her strange behaviour.
Celia Stratton confirmed this and added that when staying with David she had frequently been distressed to hear his wife shrieking at him in their bedroom till all hours of the morning, like a mad woman.
'Like a mad woman?' repeated the coroner deprecatingly. 'You're sure that isn't too strong an expression, Miss Stratton?'
'Not in the least,' Celia retorted firmly. 'If you'd heard her, you'd understand. She used almost to yowl, one might say, as if she'd completely lost control of herself.'
'Dear me,' said the coroner sadly. 'Very painful indeed.'
Roger privately thought that Celia had overdone it a trifle, but there was no doubt that the idea must be getting home to the jury that Ena Stratton had been anything but normal. As Celia was about to leave the stand, the coroner added one more question: 'If you realized that your sister - in - law was really so seriously unbalanced as this, I wonder you did not advise your brother to consult an alienist about her, Miss Stratton.'
'But I did!' Celia retorted indignantly. 'Of course I did. My elder brother and I both wanted him to do so. But he said he'd already consulted Dr. Chalmers, who had advised him that though his wife was unbalanced to some extent it couldn't be considered pronounced enough to warrant sending her to a home just yet, though that might come later.'
'I see, I see,' hastily agreed the coroner. 'Yes, we can hear all about that from Dr. Chalmers himself, yes.'
Roger smiled and blessed the ways of coroners' courts. In a court of law, governed by the rules of evidence, Celia's last statement would not have been allowed even to reach completion; and it was a useful one. But not perhaps, Roger reflected, for Dr. Chalmers, who stood a chance of getting hauled over the coals for negligence.
Roger also noticed, with considerable interest, that so far not a word had been said about chairs.
He himself was called next. Asked to do so, he described glibly enough the part he had played in the scene that followed the discovery of the body. 'In consequence of a communication made to me by Mr. Williamson, I called Mr. Ronald Stratton quietly out of the next room and accompanied him up to the roof, followed by Mr. Williamson.'
'Yes. Just a moment, Mr. Sheringham. What was this communication that Mr. Williamson made to you?'
'He told me that he had found Mrs. Stratton,' amplified Roger, who had thought he had achieved rather nicely the official phraseology.
