has got the poise, the balance to –1 feel she's young for her age, uncertain of herself, liable to have brainstorms. I look at that household and I don't feel that any of them are likely to have done such a thing until I come to Hester. And then — then I'm not sure.'
'I see,' said Dr. MacMaster. 'Yes, I see.'
'I don't really blame her,' said Don Craig quickly. 'I don't think the poor child really knew what she was doing. I can't call it murder. It was just an act of emotional defiance, of rebellion, of a longing to be free, of the conviction that she would never be free until — until her mother wasn't there any longer.'
'And that last is probably true enough,' said MacMaster. 'It's the only kind of motive there is, and it's rather a peculiar one. Not the kind that looks strong in the eyes of the law. Wishing to be free. Free from the impact of a stronger personality. Just because none of them inherits a large sum of money on the death of Mrs. Argyle the law won't consider that they had a motive. But even the financial control, I should imagine, was very largely in Mrs. Argyle's hands through her influence with the Trustees. Oh yes, her death set them free all right. Not only Hester, my boy. It set Leo free to marry another woman. It set Mary free to look after her husband in the way she liked, it set Micky free to live his own life in the way he cared about living it. Even little dark horse Tina sitting in her library may have wanted freedom.'
'I had to come and talk to you,' said Donald. 'I had to know what you thought, whether you thought that — that it could be true.'
'About Hester?'
'Yes.'
'I think it could be true,' said MacMaster slowly. 'I don't know that it is.'
'You think it could have happened just as I say?'
'Yes. I think what you've imagined is not farfetched and has an element of probability about it. But it's by no means certain, Donald.'
The young man gave a shuddering sigh.
'But it's got to be certain, Mac. That's the one thing I do feel is necessary. I've got to know. If Hester tells me, if she tells me herself, then — then it will be all right. We'll get married as soon as possible. I'll look after her.'
'It's as well Superintendent Huish can't hear you,' said MacMaster dryly.
'I'm a law-abiding citizen as a rule,' said Donald, 'but you know very well yourself, Mac, how they treat psychological evidence in the law courts. In my view it was a bad accident, not a case of cold-blooded murder, or even hot-blooded murder for that matter.'
'You're in love with the girl,' said MacMaster. 'I'm talking to you in confidence, mind.' 'I understand that,' said MacMaster.
'All I'm saying is that if Hester tells me, and I know, we'll live it down together. But she must tell me. I can't go through life not knowing.'
'You mean, you're not prepared to marry her with this probability overshadowing things?'
'Would you want to in my place?'
'I don't know. In my day, if it happened to me, and I was in love with the girl, I should probably be convinced she was innocent.'
'It's not so much the guilt or innocence that matters, as that I've got to know.'
'And if she did kill her mother, you're quite prepared to marry her and live happily ever afterwards, as they say?'
'Yes.'
'Don'tyou believe it!' said MacMaster. 'You'll be wondering if the bitter taste in your coffee is only coffee and thinking that the poker in the grate is a bit too hefty a size. And she'll see you thinking it. It won't do.'
Chapter 10
'I'm sure, Marshall , that you'll appreciate my reasons for asking you to come here and have this conference.'
'Yes, certainly,' said Mr. Marshall. 'The fact is that if you had not proposed it, Mr. Argyle, I should myself have suggested coming down. The announcement was in all the morning papers this morning and there is no doubt at all that it will lead to a revival of interest in the case on the part of the Press.'
'We've already had a few of them ringing up and asking for interviews,' said Mary Durrant.
'Quite so, it was only to be expected, I feel. I should advise that you take up the position that you have no comment to make. Naturally you are delighted and thankful, but you prefer not to discuss the matter.'
'Superintendent Huish, who was in charge of the case at the time, has asked to come and have an interview with us tomorrow morning,' said Leo.
'Yes. Yes, I'm afraid there will have to be a certain amount of reopening of the case, though I really cannot think that the police can have much hope of arriving at any tangible result. After all, two years have passed and anything that people might have remembered at the time — people in the village, I mean — will by now have been forgotten. A pity, of course, in some ways, but it can't be helped.'
'The whole thing seems quite clear,' said Mary Durrant. 'The house was securely locked up against burglars but if anyone had come appealing to my mother over some special case or pretending to be a friend or friends of hers I have no doubt that person would have been admitted. That, I think, is what must have happened. My father here thought he heard a ring at the bell just after seven o'clock.'
Marshall turned his head enquiringly to Leo.
'Yes, I think I did say so,' said Leo. 'Of course, I can't remember very clearly now, but at the time I was under the impression that I heard the bell. I was ready to go down and then I thought I heard the door open and close. There was no sound of voices or any question of anyone forcing an entry or behaving abusively. That I think I should have heard.'
'Quite so, quite so,' said Mr. Marshall. 'Yes, I think there's no doubt that that is what must have happened. Alas, we know only too well the large number of unprincipled persons gaining admission to a house by a plausible tale of distress, and who having gained admission are willing to cosh the householder and make off with what money they can find. Yes, I think that we must assume now that that is what did happen.'
He spoke in too persuasive a voice. He looked round the little assembly as he spoke, noting them carefully, and labelling them in his meticulous mind. Mary Durrant, good-looking, unimaginative, untroubled, even slightly aloof, apparently quite sure of herself. Behind her in his wheel-chair, her husband. An intelligent fellow, Philip Durrant, Marshall thought to himself. A man who might have done a good deal and gone far had it not been for his unreliable judgment in all matters of business. He was not, Marshall thought, taking all this as calmly as his wife was. His eyes were alert and thoughtful. He realised, none better, the implications of the whole matter. Of course, though, Mary Durrant might not be as calm as she appeared to be. Both as a girl and a woman, she had always been able to conceal her feelings.
As Philip Durrant moved slightly in his chair, his bright, intelligent eyes watching the lawyer with a faint mockery in them, Mary turned her head sharply. The complete adoration of the look she gave her husband almost startled the lawyer. He had known, of course, that Mary Durrant was a devoted wife, but he had so long considered her as a calm, rather passionless creature without strong affections or dislikes that he was surprised at this sudden revelation. So that was how she felt about the fellow, was it? As for Philip Durrant, he seemed uneasy. Apprehensive, Marshall thought, about the future. As well he might be!
Opposite the lawyer sat Micky. Young, handsome, bitter. Why had he got to be so bitter, Marshall thought parenthetically? Hadn't everything been done for him always? Why did he have to have this look of one who was perpetually against the world. Beside him sat Tina looking rather like a small elegant black cat. Very dark, soft- voiced, big dark eyes and a rather sinuous grace of movement. Quiet, yet perhaps emotional behind the quietness? Marshall really knew very little about Tina. She had taken up the work suggested to her by Mrs. Argyle, as a librarian in the County Library . She had a flat in Redmyn and came home at week-ends. Apparently a docile and contented member of the family. But who knew? Anyway, she was out of it or ought to be. She had not been here that evening. Though, for all that, Redmyn was only twenty-five miles away.
