Ordeal by Innocence

‘Well, he’s right, you know. There will be repercussions.’

Mary looked a little bewildered.

‘You mean that there will be a revival of interest in the case? Of course I’m glad Jacko is cleared, but it will be rather unpleasant if people begin talking about it again.’

‘It’s not just what the neighbours say. There’s more to it than that.’

She looked at him inquiringly.

‘The police are going to be interested, too!’

‘The police?’ Mary spoke sharply. ‘What’s it got to do with them?’

‘My dear girl,’ said Philip. ‘Think.’

Mary came back slowly to sit by him.

‘It’s an unsolved crime again now, you see,’ said Philip.

‘But surely they won’t bother–after all this time?’

‘A very nice bit of wishful thinking,’ said Philip, ‘but fundamentally unsound, I fear.’

‘Surely,’ said Mary, ‘after they’ve been so stupid–making such a bad mistake over Jacko–they won’t want to rake it all up again?’

‘They mayn’t want to–but they’ll probably have to! Duty is duty.’

‘Oh, Philip, I’m sure you’re wrong. There will just be a bit of talk and then it will all die down.’

‘And then our lives will go on happily ever afterwards,’ said Philip in his mocking voice.

‘Why not?’

He shook his head. ‘It’s not as simple as that…Your father’s right. We must all get together and have a consultation. Get Marshall down as he said.’

‘You mean–go over to Sunny Point?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, we can’t do that.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s not practicable. You’re an invalid and–’

‘I’m not an invalid.’ Philip spoke with irritation. ‘I’m quite strong and well. I just happen to have lost the use of my legs. I could go to Timbuctoo with the proper transport laid on.’

‘I’m sure it would be very bad for you to go to Sunny Point. Having all this unpleasant business raked up–’

‘It’s not my mind that’s affected.’

‘–And I don’t see how we can leave the house. There have been so many burglaries lately.’

‘Get someone to sleep in.’

‘It’s all very well to say that–as though it was the easiest thing in the world.’

‘Old Mrs Whatsername can come in every day. Do stop making housewifely objections, Polly. It’s you, really, who doesn’t want to go.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘We won’t be there long,’ said Philip reassuringly. ‘But I think we’ve got to go. This is a time when the family’s got to present a united front to the world. We’ve got to find out exactly how we stand.’

III

At the Hotel in Drymouth, Calgary dined early and went up to his room. He felt profoundly affected by what he had passed through at Sunny Point. He had expected to find his mission painful and it had taken him all his resolution to go through with it. But the whole thing had been painful and upsetting in an entirely different way from the one he had expected. He flung himself down on his bed and lit a cigarette as he went over and over it in his mind.

The clearest picture that came to him was of Hester’s face at that parting moment. Her scornful rejection of his plea for justice! What was it that she had said? ‘It’s not the guilty who matter, it’s the innocent.’ And then: ‘Don’t you see what you’ve done to us all?’ But what had he done? He didn’t understand.

And the others. The woman they called Kirsty (why Kirsty? That was a Scottish name. She wasn’t Scottish–Danish, perhaps, or Norwegian?) Why had she spoken so sternly–so accusingly?

There had been something odd, too, about Leo Argyle–a withdrawal, a watchfulness. No suggestion of the ‘Thank God my son was innocent!’ which surely would have been the natural reaction!

And that girl–the girl who was Leo’s secretary. She had been helpful to him, kindly. But she, too, had reacted in an odd way. He remembered the way she had knelt there by Argyle’s chair. As though–as though–she were sympathizing with him, consoling him. Consoling him for what? That his son was not guilty of murder? And surely–yes, surely–there was more there than a secretary’s feelings–even a secretary of some years’ standing…What was it all about? Why did they–

The telephone on the table by the bed rang. He picked up the receiver.

‘Hallo?’

‘Dr Calgary? There is someone asking for you.’

‘For me?’

He was surprised. As far as he was aware, nobody knew that he was spending the night in Drymouth.

‘Who is it?’

There was a pause. Then the clerk said:

‘It’s Mr Argyle.’

‘Oh. Tell him–’ Arthur Calgary checked himself on the point of saying that he would come down. If for some reason Leo Argyle had followed him to Drymouth and managed to find out where he was staying, then presumably the matter would be embarrassing to discuss in the crowded lounge downstairs.

He said instead:

‘Ask him to come up to my room, will you?’

He rose from where he had been lying and paced up and down until the knock came on the door.