'It wasn't his own son, remember. He may not have cared much for the boy — he may even have been resentful — of the affection his wife lavished on him.'
'That may be so. Yet he seems to have been fond of all the children. He looks fond of them.'
'Of course,' said Finney, thoughtfully. 'He knew the boy wouldn't be hanged. That might make a difference.'
Ah, you may have something there, sir. He may have thought that ten years in prison which is what a life sentence amounts to, might have done the boy no harm.'
'What about the young woman — Gwenda Vaughan?'
'Ifshedidit,' said Huish, 'I don't suppose she'd have any qualms about Jacko. Women are ruthless.'
'Anyway, you're reasonably satisfied it's between those two?'
'Reasonably satisfied, yes.'
'But no more?' the Chief Constable pressed him.
'No. There's something going on. Undercurrents, as you might say.'
'Explain yourself, Huish.'
'What I'd really like to know is what they think themselves. About each other.'
'Oh, I see, I get you now. You're wondering if they themselves know who it was?'
'Yes. I can't make up my mind about it. Do they all know? And are they all agreed to keep it dark? I don't think so. I think it's even possible that they may all have different ideas. There's the Swedish woman — she's a mass of nerves. Right on edge. That may be because she did it herself. She's the age when women go slightly off their rocker in one way or another. She may be frightened for herself or for somebody else. I've the impression, I may be wrong, it's for somebody else.'
'Leo?'
'No, I don't think it's Leo she's upset about. I think it's the young one — Hester.'
'Hester, h'm? Any chance that it might have been Hester?'
'No ostensible motive. But she's a passionate, perhaps slightly unbalanced type.'
'And Lindstrom probably knows a good deal more about the girl than we do.'
'Yes. Then there's the little dark one who works in the County Library .'
'She wasn't in the house that night, was she?'
'No. But I think she knows something. Knows who did it, maybe.'
'Guesses? Or knows?'
'She's worried. I don't think it's only guessing.'
He went on: 'And there's the other boy. Micky. He wasn't there, either, but he was out in a car, nobody with him. He says he was testing the car up towards the moor and Minchin Hill. We've only his word for it. He could have driven over, gone into the house, killed her and driven away again. Gwenda Vaughan said something that wasn't in her original statement. She said a car passed her, just at the entrance to the private road. There are fourteen houses in the road, so it might have been going to any one of them and nobody will remember after two years — but it means there's just a possibility that the car was Micky's.'
'Why should he want to kill his adopted mother?'
'No reason that we know about — but there might be one.'
'Who would know?'
'They'd all know,' said Huish. 'But they wouldn't tell us. Not if they knew they were telling us, that is.'
'I perceive your devilish intention,' said Major Finney. 'Who are you going to work on?'
'Lindstrom, I think. If I can break down her defences. I also hope to find out if she herself had a grudge against Mrs. Argyle.'
'And there's the paralysed chap,' he added. Philip Durrant.' 'What about him?'
'Well, I think he's beginning to have a few ideas about it all. I don't suppose he'll want to share them with me, but I may be able to get an inkling of the way his mind is working. He's an intelligent fellow, and I should say pretty observant. He may have noticed one or two rather interesting things.'
'Come out, Tina, and let's get some air.'
'Air?' Tina looked up at Micky doubtfully. 'But it's so cold, Micky.' She shivered a little.
'I believe you hate fresh air, Tina. That's why you're able to stand being cooped up in that library all day long.'
Tina smiled.
'I do not mind being cooped up in winter. It is very nice and warm in the library.'
Micky looked down on her.
'And there you sit, all cuddled up like a cosy little kitten in front of the fire. But it'll do you good to get out, all the same. Come on, Tina. I want to talk to you. I want to — oh, to get some air into my lungs, forget all this bloody police business.'
Tina got up from her chair with a lazy, graceful movement not unlike that of the kitten to which Micky had just compared her.
In the hall she wrapped a fur-collared tweed coat round her and they went out together.
'Aren't you even going to put a coat on, Micky?' 'No. I never feel the cold.'
'Brrr,' said Tina gently. 'How I hate this country in the winter. I would like to go abroad. I would like to be somewhere where the sun was always shining and the air was moist and soft and warm.'
'I've just been offered a job out in the Persian Gulf ,' said Micky, 'with one of the oil companies. The job's looking after motor transport.'
'Are you going?'
'No, I don't think so… What's the good?'
They walked round to the back of the house and started down a zig-zag path through trees which led finally to the beach on the river below. Half-way down there was a small summer-house sheltered from the wind. They did not at once sit down but stood in front of it, gazing out over the river.
'It's beautiful here, isn't it?' said Micky. Tina looked at the view with incurious eyes. 'Yes,' she said, 'yes, perhaps it is.'
'But you don't really know, do you?' said Micky, looking at her affectionately, 'you don't realise the beauty, Tina, you never have.'
'I do not remember,' said Tina, 'in all the years we lived here that you ever enjoyed the beauty of this place. You were always fretting, longing to go back to London .'
'That was different,' said Micky shortly. 'I didn't belong here.'
'That is what is the matter, isn't it?' said Tina, 'you do not belong anywhere.'
'I don't belong anywhere,' said Micky in a dazed voice. 'Perhaps that's true. My goodness, Tina, what a frightening thought. Do you remember that old song? Kirsten used to sing it to us, I believe. Something about a dove. 0 dear dove, 0 sweet dove, 0 dove with the white, white breast. Do you remember?'
Tina shook her head.
'Perhaps she sang it to you, but — no, I do not remember.'
Micky went on, half speaking, half humming.
'0 maid most dear, I am not here. I have no place, no part, No dwelling more by sea nor shore, But on in thy heart.' He looked at Tina. 'I suppose that could be true.'
Tina put a small hand on his arm.
'Come, Micky, sit down here. It is out of the wind. It is not so cold.'
As he obeyed her she went on: 'Must you be so unhappy always?'
'My dear girl, you don't begin to understand the first thing about it.'
'I understand a good deal,' said Tina. 'Why can't you forget about her, Micky?'
'Forget about her? Who are you talking about?'
'Your mother,' said Tina.
'Forget about her!' said Micky bitterly. 'Is there much chance of forgetting after this morning — after the questions! If anyone's been murdered, they don't let you 'forget about her'!'
'I did not mean that,' said Tina. 'I meant your real mother.'
'Why should I think about her? I never saw her after I was six years old.'
'But, Micky, you did think about her. All the time.' 138
