Read Online Eternity Ring by Patricia Wentworth - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Wentworth
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the back of Abbottsleigh.”
He smiled at her.
“Answer adjudged correct.”
“And the Forester’s House—is it nearer to this edge of the wood, or to the Lane?”
“Oh, a good bit nearer to the Lane—and definitely nearer to this end of the wood than to the village.”
“Then I would propose, my dear Frank, that we find our way to it along the field track.”
He stood looking at her.
“Now what have you got in your mind?”
She smiled.
“You asked me that before.”
“And got no answer.”
“Well, this time you shall have one. I have in mind its usual furniture—a considerable variety of thoughts, some of them quite unrelated, others in a very elementary state of combination. There are only two which I can at the moment offer for your consideration, and you will doubtless have already thought of them for yourself. In the first case, Mary Stokes is lying when she says that she stood on the edge of the bushes in the dip and witnessed the carrying or dragging of a dead body from the wood on to the path. You brought that out very clearly when you questioned her. But I think it is equally clear that when she spoke of the beam passing to and fro over that poor murdered girl she was describing something which she had actually witnessed. I feel quite sure that every detail of that description is correct. She did see a murderer searching for the lost earring in terror lest it should have dropped in some place where its discovery might betray him.”
“You think she was speaking the truth?”
“I am convinced of it. She witnessed that scene, and the shock and horror of it sent her running for safety in a blind panic. It was only when she had reached that safety that some other consideration operated to prevent her telling all the truth. She sobbed out her story of the terrible thing she had seen, but she lied as to the locality in which she had seen it. The tragic scene took place, but not on the track through Dead Man’s Copse.”
He eyed her quizzically.
“I expect you’re right—you always are. Though if it wasn’t for Louise Rogers, I’d be inclined to think Miss Mary Stokes a more consistent liar than you do. It’s Louise Rogers and her eternity earrings that make me give her the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise I should conclude that she had just invented the whole thing.
Miss Silver coughed in a hortatory manner.
“No, Frank—she had seen what she was describing. It was something which had frightened her almost out of her senses. The sense of fear and shock were quite unmistakable. Did you not notice how all her affectations fell away? The girl who said ‘I tell you it turned me up’ was telling the truth.”
He nodded.
“Yes, I noticed that. I expect you’re right. Well, where do we go from here?”
If he intended the question metaphorically, it was taken in a perfectly literal manner.
“I think to the Forester’s House.”
“Now?”
“I think so.”
She began to walk along the track between the field and the wood.
After returning to the car to remove and pocket the switch-key Frank caught her up.
“I could have driven you round by the village and up the Lane.”
“Thank you, but I am an excellent walker. The air is really extremely refreshing.”
After a moment he said,
“And what do you expect to find at the Forester’s House?”
“We shall see when we get there.”
He laughed.
“You wouldn’t care to give any idea of what you expect?”
She shook her head.
“It is wiser not to indulge in expectations. There are, of course, certain possibilities.”
“As what?”
“Mary Stokes must have had a reason for transferring the terrible scene which she had witnessed from the place where it really happened to the place where she said it happened. This reason must have been extremely strong—so strong, in fact, that even in the midst of blind panic it operated to prevent a disclosure of the actual spot where the tragedy took place. What would you deduce from
He smiled at her.
“Answer adjudged correct.”
“And the Forester’s House—is it nearer to this edge of the wood, or to the Lane?”
“Oh, a good bit nearer to the Lane—and definitely nearer to this end of the wood than to the village.”
“Then I would propose, my dear Frank, that we find our way to it along the field track.”
He stood looking at her.
“Now what have you got in your mind?”
She smiled.
“You asked me that before.”
“And got no answer.”
“Well, this time you shall have one. I have in mind its usual furniture—a considerable variety of thoughts, some of them quite unrelated, others in a very elementary state of combination. There are only two which I can at the moment offer for your consideration, and you will doubtless have already thought of them for yourself. In the first case, Mary Stokes is lying when she says that she stood on the edge of the bushes in the dip and witnessed the carrying or dragging of a dead body from the wood on to the path. You brought that out very clearly when you questioned her. But I think it is equally clear that when she spoke of the beam passing to and fro over that poor murdered girl she was describing something which she had actually witnessed. I feel quite sure that every detail of that description is correct. She did see a murderer searching for the lost earring in terror lest it should have dropped in some place where its discovery might betray him.”
“You think she was speaking the truth?”
“I am convinced of it. She witnessed that scene, and the shock and horror of it sent her running for safety in a blind panic. It was only when she had reached that safety that some other consideration operated to prevent her telling all the truth. She sobbed out her story of the terrible thing she had seen, but she lied as to the locality in which she had seen it. The tragic scene took place, but not on the track through Dead Man’s Copse.”
He eyed her quizzically.
“I expect you’re right—you always are. Though if it wasn’t for Louise Rogers, I’d be inclined to think Miss Mary Stokes a more consistent liar than you do. It’s Louise Rogers and her eternity earrings that make me give her the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise I should conclude that she had just invented the whole thing.
Miss Silver coughed in a hortatory manner.
“No, Frank—she had seen what she was describing. It was something which had frightened her almost out of her senses. The sense of fear and shock were quite unmistakable. Did you not notice how all her affectations fell away? The girl who said ‘I tell you it turned me up’ was telling the truth.”
He nodded.
“Yes, I noticed that. I expect you’re right. Well, where do we go from here?”
If he intended the question metaphorically, it was taken in a perfectly literal manner.
“I think to the Forester’s House.”
“Now?”
“I think so.”
She began to walk along the track between the field and the wood.
After returning to the car to remove and pocket the switch-key Frank caught her up.
“I could have driven you round by the village and up the Lane.”
“Thank you, but I am an excellent walker. The air is really extremely refreshing.”
After a moment he said,
“And what do you expect to find at the Forester’s House?”
“We shall see when we get there.”
He laughed.
“You wouldn’t care to give any idea of what you expect?”
She shook her head.
“It is wiser not to indulge in expectations. There are, of course, certain possibilities.”
“As what?”
“Mary Stokes must have had a reason for transferring the terrible scene which she had witnessed from the place where it really happened to the place where she said it happened. This reason must have been extremely strong—so strong, in fact, that even in the midst of blind panic it operated to prevent a disclosure of the actual spot where the tragedy took place. What would you deduce from
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