Ordeal by Innocence

  "I'm willing to take risks," said Gwenda. "I've never minded taking risks. I'm willing to gamble on happiness. But Leo -"

  "Yes? Leo?"

  "Leo," said Gwenda, "will probably die as he has lived, the husband of Rachel Argyle."

  The anger and bitterness in her eyes startled him.

  "She might just as well be alive," said Gwenda. "She's here - in the house - all the time..."

  Chapter 22

  Tina parked her car on the grass by the churchyard wall.

  She removed the paper carefully from the flowers she had brought, then she walked in through the cemetery gates and along the main path. She did not like the new cemetery. She wished it had been possible for Mrs. Argyle to have been buried in the old churchyard which surrounded the church. There seemed an old-world peace there. The yew tree and the moss-grown stones.

  In this cemetery, so new, so well arranged, with its main walk and the paths radiating off it, everything seemed as slick and mass-produced as the contents of a supermarket.

  Mrs. Argyle's grave was well kept. It had a square marble surround filled with granite chips, a granite cross rising from the back of it.

  Tina, holding her carnations, bent to read the inscription.

  "In loving memory of Rachel Louise Argyle." Below it was the text: "Her children shall rise up and call her blessed."

  There was a footstep behind her and Tina turned her head, startled.

  "Micky!"

  "I saw your car. I followed you. At least -1 was coming here anyway."

  "You were coming here? Why?"

  "I don't know. Just to say good-bye, perhaps."

  "Good-bye to - her?"

  He nodded.

  "Yes. I've taken that job with the oil company I told you about. I'm going off in about three weeks."

  "And you came here to say good-bye to Mother first?"

  "Yes. Perhaps to thank her and to say I'm sorry."

  "What are you sorry for, Micky?"

  "I'mnot sorry that I killed her if that's what you're trying to imply. Have you been thinking I killed her, Tina?"

  "I was not sure."

  "You can't be sure now, either, can you I mean it's no good my telling you that I didn't kill her."

  "Why are you sorry?"

  "She did a lot for me." said Micky slowly. "I was never the least bit grateful. I resented ever single damn thing she did. I never gave her a kind word, or a loving look. I wish now that I had, that's all."

  "When did you stop hating her? After she was dead?"

  "Yes. Yes, I suppose so."

  "It wasn't her you hated, was it?"

  "No - no. You were right about that. It was my own mother. Because I loved her. Because I loved her and she didn't care a button for me."

  "And now you're not even angry about that?"

  "No. I don't suppose she could help it. After all, you're born what you are. She was a sunny, happy sort of creature. Too fond of men and too fond of the bottle, and she was nice to her kids when she felt like being nice. She wouldn't have let anyone else hurt them. All right, so she didn't care for me! All these years I refused to live with that idea. Now I've accepted it." He stretched out a hand. "Give me just one of your carnations, will you, Tina?" He took it from her and bending down, laid it on the grave below the inscription.

  "There you are, Mum," he said. "I was a rotten son to you, and I don't think you were a very wise Mother to me. But you meant well." He looked at Tina. "Is that a good enough apology?"

  "I think it will do," said Tina.

  She bent down and put her own bunch of carnations.

  "Do you often come here and put flowers?"

  "I come here once a year," said Tina.

  "Little Tina," said Micky.

  They turned together and walked back down the cemetery path.

  "I didn't kill her, Tina," said Micky. "I swear I didn't. I want you to believe me."

  "I was there that night," said Tina.

  He wheeled round.

  "You were there? You mean at Sunny Point?"

  "Yes. I was thinking of changing my job. I wanted to consult Father and Mother about it."

  "Well," said Micky, "go on."

  When she did not speak, he took her arm and shook her. "Go on, Tina," he said. "You've got to tell me."

  "I haven't told anyone so far," said Tina. "Go on," said Micky again.

  "I drove there. I didn't take the car right up to the gate. You know there's a place half-way where it's easier to turn it?"

  Micky nodded.

  "I got out of the car there and I walked towards the house. I felt unsure of myself. You know how difficult it was in some ways to talk to Mother. I mean, she always had her own ideas. I wanted to put the case clearly as I could. And so I walked to the house and then back towards the car, and then back again. Thinking things out."

  "What time was this?" asked Micky.

  "I don't know," said Tina. "I can't remember now. I - time doesn't mean very much to me."

  "No, darling," said Micky. "You always have that air of infinite leisure."

  "I was under the trees," said Tina, "and walking very softly..."

  "Like the little cat you are," said Micky affectionately.

  "When I heard them."

  "Heard what?"

  "Two people whispering."

  "Yes?" Micky's body had tensed. "What did they say?"

  "They said - one of them said, 'Between seven and seven-thirty. That's the time. Now remember that and don't make a muck of it. Between seven and seven-thirty.' The other person whispered,' You can trust me,' and then the first voice said, 'And after that, darling, everything will be wonderful.'"

  There was a silence, then Micky said: "Well - why have you held this up?" "Because I didn't know," said Tina. "I didn't know who was speaking." "But surely! Was it a man or a woman -"

  "I don't know," said Tina. "Don't you see, when two people are whispering, you don't hear the voice. It's just - well, just a whisper. I think, of course I think, it was a man and a woman because -"

  "Because of what they said?"

  "Yes. But I didn't know who they were."

  "You thought," said Micky, "that it might have been Father and Gwenda?"

  "It's possible, isn't it?" said Tina. "It might have meant that Gwenda was to leave the house and come back between those times, or it might have been Gwenda telling Father to come down between seven and half past."

  "If it was Father and Gwenda, you wouldn't want to turn them over to the police. Is that it?"

  "If I were sure," said Tina. "But I'm not sure. It could have been someone else. It could have been - Hester and someone? It could even have been Mary, but not Philip. No, not Philip, of course."

  "When you say Hester and someone, who do you mean?"

  "I don't know."

  "You didn't see him - the man, I mean?"

  "No," said Tina. "I didn't see him."

  "Tina, I think you're lying. It was a man, wasn't it?"

  "I turned back," said Tina, "towards the car, and then someone came by on the other side of the road, walking very fast. He was just a shadow in the darkness. And then I thought -1 thought I heard a car start up at the end of the road."

  "You thought it was me..." said Micky.

  "I didn't know," said Tina. "It could have been you. It was about your size and height."

  They reached Tina's little car.

  "Come on, Tina," said Micky, "get in. I'm coming with you. We'll drive down to Sunny Point."

  "But, Micky"

  "It's no use my telling you it wasn't me, is it? What else should I say? Come on, drive to Sunny Point."

  "What are you going to do, Micky?

  "Why should you think I'm going to do anything? Weren't you going to Sunny Point anyway?"

  "Yes," said Tina, "I was. I had a letter from Philip."

  She started the little car. Micky sitting beside her, held himself very taut and rigid.

  "Heard from Philip, did you? What had h
e to say?"

  "He asked me to come over. He wanted to see me. He knows this is my half-day."

  "Oh. Did he say what he wanted to see you about?"

  "He said he wanted to ask me a question and he hoped that I'd give him the answer to it. He said that I needn't tell him anything - he'd tell me. I would only have to say yes or no. He said that whatever I told him he'd hold in confidence."

  "So he's up to something, is he?" said Micky. "Interesting."

  It was a very short distance to Sunny Point. When they got there, Micky said: "You go in, Tina. I'm going to walk up and down the garden a bit, thinking of things. Go on. Have your interview with Philip."

  Tina said: "You're not going to - you wouldn't -"

  Micky gave a short laugh.

  "Suicide from Lover's Leap? Come now, Tina, you know me better than that."

  "Sometimes," said Tina, "I think one does not know anybody."

  She turned away from him and walked slowly into the house. Micky looked after her, his head thrust forward, his hands in his pockets. He was scowling. Then he walked round the corner of the house looking up at it thoughtfully. All his boyhood memories came back to him. There was the old magnolia tree. He'd climbed up there many a time and through the landing window.

  There was the small plot of earth that had been supposed to be his own garden. Not that he'd ever taken very kindly to gardens. He'd always preferred taking any mechanical toys he had to pieces. "Destructive little devil," he thought with faint amusement.

  Ah well, one didn't really change.

  Inside the house, Tina met Mary in the hall. Mary looked startled at seeing her.

  "Tina! Have you come over from Redmyn?"

  "Yes," said Tina. "Didn't you know I was coming?"

  "I'd forgotten," said Mary. "I believe Philip did mention it."

  She turned away.

  "I'm going into the kitchen," she said, "to see if the Ovaltine has come. Philip likes it last thing at night. Kirsten is just taking him up some coffee. He likes coffee better than tea. He says tea gives him indigestion."

  "Why do you treat him like an invalid, Mary?" said Tina. "He's not really an invalid."

  There was a touch of cold anger in Mary's eyes.

  "When you've got a husband of your own, Tina," she said, "you'll know better how husbands like to be treated."

  Tina said gently: "I'm sorry."

  "If only we could get out of this house," said Mary. "It's so bad for Philip being here. And Hester's coming back today," she added.

  "Hester?" Tina sounded surprised. "Is she? Why?"

  "How should I know? She rang up last night and said so. I don't know what train she's coming by. I suppose it'll be the express, as usual. Someone will have to go in to Drymouth to meet her."

  Mary disappeared along the passage to the kitchen. Tina hesitated a moment, then she walked up the stairs.

  On the landing the first door to the right opened and Hester came through it. She looked startled at seeing Tina.

  "Hester! I heard you were coming back but I'd no idea you'd arrived."

  "Dr. Calgary drove me down," said Hester. "I came straight up to my room -1 don't think anyone knows I've arrived."

  "Is Dr. Calgary here now?"

  "No. He just dropped me and went on into Drymouth. He wanted to see someone there."

  "Mary didn't know you'd arrived."

  "Mary never knows anything," said Hester. "She and Philip isolate themselves from everything that goes on. I suppose Father and Gwenda are in the library. Everything seems to be going on just the same as usual."

  "Why shouldn't it?"

  "I don't really know," said Hester vaguely. "I just suspected that it would all be different somehow."

  She moved past Tina and down the stairs. Tina went on past the library and along the passage to the suite at the end which the Durrants occupied. Kirsten Lindstrom, standing just outside Philip's door with a tray in her hand, turned her head sharply.

  "Why, Tina, you made me jump," she said. "I was just taking Philip some coffee and biscuits." She raised a hand to knock. Tina joined her.

  After knocking, Kirsten opened the door and passed in. She was a little ahead of Tina and her tall angular frame blocked Tina's view, but Tina heard Kirsten's gasp. Her arms gave way and the tray crashed to the ground, cup and plates smashing against the fender.

  "Oh, no," cried Kirsten, "oh no." Tina said: "Philip?"

  She passed the other woman and came forward to where Philip Durrant's chair had been brought up to the desk.

  He had, she supposed, been writing. There was a ballpoint pen lying close to his right hand, but his head was dropped forward in a curious twisted attitude. And at the base of his skull she saw something that looked like a bright red lozenge staining the whiteness of his collar.

  "He has been killed," said Kirsten. "He has been killed - stabbed. There, through the bottom of the brain. One little stab and it is fatal."

  She added, her voice rising: "I warned him. I did all I could. But he was like a child - enjoying himself playing with tools that were dangerous - not seeing where he was going."

  It was like a bad dream, Tina thought. She stood there softly at Philip's elbow, looking down at him whilst Kirsten raised his limp hand and felt the wrist for the pulse that was not there. What had he wanted to ask her? Whatever he wanted, he would never ask it now. Without really thinking objectively, Tina's mind was taking in and registering various details. He had been writing, yes. The pen was there, but there was no paper in front of him. Nothing written. Whoever had killed him had taken away what he'd written. She said, speaking quietly and mechanically: "We must tell the others."

  "Yes, yes, we must go down to them. We must tell your father."

  Side by side the two women went to the door, Kirsten's arm round Tina. Tina's eyes went to the dropped tray and the broken crockery.

  "That does not matter," said Kirsten. "All that can be cleared up later." Tina half stumbled and Kirsten's arm restrained her. "Be careful. You will fall."

  They went along the passage. The door of the library opened. Leo and Gwenda came out. Tina said in her clear, low voice: "Philip has been killed. Stabbed."

  It was like a dream, Tina thought. The shocked exclamations of her father and Gwenda flowing past her, going to Philip... To Philip, who was dead. Kirsten left her and hurried down the stairs.

  "I must tell Mary. It must be broken to her gently. Poor Mary. It will be a terrible shock"

  Tina followed her slowly. More than ever she felt dazed and dreamlike, a strange pain catching at her heart.

  Where was she going? She did not know. Nothing was real. She came to the open front door and passed through it. It was then she saw Micky coming round the corner of the house. Automatically as though this was where her footsteps had been leading her all the time, she went straight to him.

  "Micky," she said. "Oh, Micky!"

  His arms were open. She went straight into them. "It's all right," said Micky. "I've got you."

  Tina crumpled slightly in his arms. She dropped to the ground, a small huddled heap, just as Hester came running from the house.

  "She's fainted," Micky said helplessly. "I've never known Tina faint before."

  "It's the shock," said Hester.

  "What do you mean - the shock?"

  "Philip has been killed," said Hester.

  "Didn't you know?"

  "How could I know? When? How?"

  "Just now."

  He stared at her. Then he picked up Tina in his arms. With Hester accompanying him, he took her into Mrs. Argyle's sitting-room and laid her on the sofa.

  "Ring up Dr. Craig," he said.

  "That's his car now," said Hester, looking out of the window. "Father was calling him on the telephone about Philip. I -" She looked round. "I don't want to meet him."

  She ran out of the room and up the stairs.

  Donald Craig got out of his car and in through the open front door. Kirsten came from the kitchen t
o meet him.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Lindstrom. What's this - Mr. Argyle tells me that Philip Durrant has been killed."