“What about the windows in the study?”
“Shut.”
“Moving on, Mrs. Martin, can you tell us what time you arrived at the Balls’ house?”
“Sometime before five-thirty. I remember Thomas was complaining all the way over there about how he didn’t want to go. My Lady had got one of her headaches, and I think he wanted to stay home with her.”
“But you said that you had left Lady Anne with Sir Peter in the drawing room?”
“That’s right. She was lying on the sofa. She used to do that sometimes rather than go up to bed, and I suppose she wanted to have the time with Sir Peter before he left.”
“When was he leaving?”
“Later in the evening. With Greta. He had to get back to London for some business meeting early the next day.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Martin. I want to move on to a different subject now. You were familiar with Lady Anne’s jewels?”
“Yes, I was. I looked after the jewelry for thirty years. I knew every stone in every necklace, and now they’re all gone. Emeralds, rubies, and diamonds. Beautiful things.”
The housekeeper’s hard voice softened as she remembered the jewels, and Miles Lambert had a sudden picture of the old lady passing the bracelets and necklaces through her bony fingers, licking her pale lips as the glittering stones went by.
“And you have prepared this list of the items that were taken from the safe in Lady Anne’s bedroom on the night of her murder.”
Sparling handed a document to Miss Hooks, who handed it on to the witness. The housekeeper did not read it immediately but instead opened her handbag and took out a pair of small, black-framed reading glasses. After she had put them on, she snapped the spectacle case shut and then snapped the clasp of the handbag as well. Snap, snap. Miles thought the old lady looked very pleased with the two uncompromising noises, as she held the jewelry list close to her distrustful nose and passed her bony index finger down its list of contents.
“Everything there?” asked John Sparling a little impatiently.
“Yes, that’s my list,” said Mrs. Martin decisively. “Lovely things they were. I remember my Lady wearing the ruby necklace when she first came out. It was a ball at St. James’s Palace, and she looked so beautiful. Her tawny brown hair done up high and diamond drops in her ears — ”
“Thank you, Mrs. Martin,” interrupted Sparling. “I don’t mean to be rude but we must press on. It’s an agreed list, my Lord, and there are copies for the jury with an insurer’s statement of valuation attached. You will see that the net value of the pieces stolen is in excess of two million pounds.”
“Yes, very well, Mr. Sparling,” said Judge Granger, ignoring the half-suppressed gasps of astonishment that the figure had elicited from several of the jurors. “The jury can have these.”
Mrs. Martin kept her glasses on while Miss Hooks distributed the copy documents to the jury. She stared at John Sparling over her oval lenses as if seeing him properly for the first time and registering just how thoroughly nasty a specimen of humanity he was. She was clearly not about to forget the rudeness of his most recent interruption.
Sparling, however, was undeterred.
“It’s also agreed that none of the items on this list have been recovered, with one exception,” he went on. “That is this gold locket, prosecution exhibit number thirteen: I’d like you to have a look at that now, Mrs. Martin, please. Do you recognize it?”
“Yes, Sir Peter gave that to my Lady after their wedding. There’s a picture of them both inside it.”
“When did you last see that locket, Mrs. Martin?”
“Well, I can’t be absolutely sure, but I think that my Lady was wearing it on the day she died. She had on a blouse and so I couldn’t see the locket, but I remember noticing the gold chain on her neck when we were eating lunch. She was very fond of the locket. She used to wear it a lot.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Martin. That’s all I want to ask you.”
Miles Lambert got to his feet, pulled his gown around his shoulders and smiled at his adversary. Mrs. Martin swiveled her head toward him in response with a movement that made Miles think of a tank commander redirecting his gun as a new enemy came into view.
“The first thing I want to ask you, Mrs. Martin, is about your late employer’s walking habits.”
“What?”
“Not what but where and when is my question. She liked to walk, did she not?”
“Yes, she did. Every day she’d go for a walk. Nothing wrong with that.” The housekeeper didn’t like questions like this; she didn’t know where they were going.
“Nothing wrong at all, far from it,” said Miles, who walked as little as he possibly could in spite of his doctor’s orders to the contrary. “Walking must be very enjoyable in a beautiful place like the coast of Suffolk,” he went on musingly. “Lady Anne must have loved going out on warm summer evenings. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Martin?”
“I suppose so.”
“And Lady Anne would usually go down to the beach to walk, would she not?”
“That’s right.”
“Through the north door and down the lane. I expect that sometimes she may have forgotten to lock the door when she came back in. Isn’t that possible, Mrs. Martin? On particularly beautiful evenings.”
“Oh, I see what you’re up to. You’re trying to say my Lady left the door unlocked for those men to come through. Well, you can forget it; she didn’t.”
“But you don’t know, do you, Mrs. Martin? You’d already left. At just after five o’clock. That’s what you told Mr. Sparling.”
Miles spoke quickly, having thrown off his lazy air like an unwanted mask, and then moved on giving the housekeeper no time to respond.
“I want to go back to what you were telling us about before lunch, Mrs. Martin. To the events following the death of that unfortunate dog. Now, let’s be quite clear. You’re not saying that my client knew that the dog had to be kept in.”
“I don’t know one way or the other. I didn’t tell her about it. I had as little conversation with her as I could.”
“Mr. Lambert, we’ve already been over this,” said the judge.
“Yes, my Lord. I just wanted to get things clear. Now you say that Thomas went for my client. That must mean that she was only doing the minimum to defend herself when she pushed him back.”
“He was just a boy. She shouldn’t have touched him.”
“But what choice did she have if he was attacking her?”
The housekeeper transferred her attention from Miles Lambert to the ceiling but didn’t otherwise respond.
“Well, I shall assume that you don’t have an answer for that, Mrs. Martin. Perhaps you will agree, however, that my client showed remarkable restraint when Lady Anne came downstairs and attacked her. She’d done nothing wrong, after all.”
“She had. She’d got the little dog killed and then afterward she said those things behind my Lady’s back that made my hair stand on end. I don’t call that restraint.”
“She didn’t, Mrs. Martin. She didn’t say those things.”
“She did. As God is my witness, she did.”
Mrs. Martin half shouted her answer with her hands now gripping the wooden edge of the witness box in front of her. The black leather handbag had fallen with a thud to the floor.
Miles Lambert smiled.
“You believe my client committed this offense, don’t you, Mrs. Martin?”
The old lady had her eyes fixed on the defense barrister now. She nodded once.
“You hate her for it, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“You’ve always hated her, haven’t you?”
“No, I hate her because of what she did.”
“She acted superior to you, didn’t she? You’d been the housekeeper all those years, and then she came down
