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He smiled a little in spite of himself.
‘I’m a very reputable witness,’ he said gently. ‘I have no axe to grind, and they have gone into my story very closely; medical evidence, various corroborating details from Drymouth. Oh, yes. Marshall was cautious, of course, like all lawyers. He didn’t want to raise your hopes until he was pretty certain of success.’
Leo Argyle stirred in his chair and spoke for the first time.
‘What exactly do you mean by success?’
‘I apologize,’ said Calgary quickly. ‘That is not a word that can rightly be used. Your son was accused of a crime he did not commit, was tried for it, condemned–and died in prison. Justice has come too late for him. But such justice as can be done, almost certainly will be done, and will be seen to be done. The Home Secretary will probably advise the Queen that a free pardon should be granted.’
Hester laughed.
‘A free pardon–for something he didn’t do?’
‘I know. The terminology always seems unrealistic. But I understand that the custom is for a question to be asked in the House, the reply to which will make it clear that Jack Argyle did not commit the crime for which he was sentenced, and the newspapers will report that fact freely.’
He stopped. Nobody spoke. It had been, he supposed, a great shock to them. But after all, a happy one.
He rose to his feet.
‘I’m afraid,’ he said uncertainly, ‘that there is nothing more that I can say…To repeat how sorry I am, how unhappy about it all, to ask your forgiveness–all that you must already know only too well. The tragedy that ended his life, has darkened my own. But at least’–he spoke with pleading–‘surely it means something–to know that he didn’t do this awful thing–that his name–your name–will be cleared in the eyes of the world…?’
If he hoped for a reply he did not get one.
Leo Argyle sat slumped in his chair. Gwenda’s eyes were on Leo’s face. Hester sat staring ahead of her, her eyes wide and tragic. Miss Lindstrom grunted something under her breath and shook her head.
Calgary stood helplessly by the door, looking back at them.
It was Gwenda Vaughan who took charge of the situation. She came up to him and laid a hand on his arm, saying in a low voice:
‘You’d better go now, Dr Calgary. It’s been too much of a shock. They must have time to take it in.’
He nodded and went out. On the landing Miss Lindstrom joined him.
‘I will let you out,’ she said.
He was conscious, looking back before the door closed behind him, of Gwenda Vaughan slipping to her knees by Leo Argyle’s chair. It surprised him a little.
Facing him, on the landing, Miss Lindstrom stood like a Guardsman and spoke harshly.
‘You cannot bring him back to life. So why bring it all back into their minds? Till now, they were resigned. Now they will suffer. It is better, always, to leave well alone.’
She spoke with displeasure.
‘His memory must be cleared,’ said Arthur Calgary.
‘Fine sentiments! They are all very well. But you do not really think of what it all means. Men, they never think.’ She stamped her foot. ‘I love them all. I came here, to help Mrs Argyle, in 1940–when she started here a war nursery–for children whose homes had been bombed. Nothing was too good for those children. Everything was done for them. That is nearly eighteen years ago. And still, even after she is dead, I stay here–to look after them–to keep the house clean and comfortable, to see they get good food. I love them all–yes, I love them…and Jacko–he was no good! Oh yes, I loved him too. But–he was no good!’
She turned abruptly away. It seemed she had forgotten her offer to show him out. Calgary descended the stairs slowly. As he was fumbling with the front door which had a safety lock he did not understand, he heard light footsteps on the stairs. Hester came flying down them.
She unlatched the door and opened it. They stood looking at each other. He understood less than ever why she faced him with that tragic reproachful stare.
She said, only just breathing the words:
‘Why did you come? Oh, why ever did you come?’
He looked at her helplessly.
‘I don’t understand you. Don’t you want your brother’s name cleared? Don’t you want him to have justice?’
‘Oh, justice!’ She threw the word at him.
He repeated: ‘I don’t understand…’
‘Going on so about justice! What does it matter to Jacko now? He’s dead. It’s not Jacko who matters. It’s us!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s not the guilty who matter. It’s the innocent.’
She caught his arm, digging her fingers into it.
‘It’s we who matter. Don’t you see what you’ve done to us all?’
He stared at her.
Out of the darkness outside, a man’s figure loomed up.
‘Dr Calgary?’ he said. ‘Your taxi’s here, sir. To drive you to Drymouth.’
‘Oh–er–thank you.’
Calgary turned once more to Hester, but she had withdrawn into the house.
The front door banged.
Chapter 3
I
Hester went slowly up the stairs pushing back the dark hair from her high forehead. Kirsten Lindstrom met her at the top of the stairs.
‘Has he gone?’
‘Yes, he’s gone.’
‘You have had a shock, Hester.’ Kirsten Lindstrom laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘Come with me. I will give you a little brandy. All this, it has been too much.’
‘I don’t think I want any brandy, Kirsty.’
‘Perhaps you do not want it, but it will be good for you.’
Unresisting, the young girl allowed herself to be steered along the passage and into Kirsten Lindstrom’s own small sitting-room. She took the brandy that was offered her and sipped it slowly. Kirsten Lindstrom said in an exasperated voice:
‘It has all been too sudden. There should have been warning. Why did not Mr Marshall write first?’
‘I suppose Dr Calgary wouldn’t let him. He wanted to come and tell us himself.’
‘Come and tell us himself, indeed! What does he think the news will do to us?’
‘I suppose,’ said Hester, in an odd, toneless voice, ‘he thought we should be pleased.’
‘Pleased or not pleased, it was bound to be a shock. He should not have done it.’
‘But it was brave of him, in a way,’ said Hester. The colour came up in her face. ‘I mean, it can’t have been an easy thing to do. To come and tell a family of people that a member of it who was condemned for murder and died in prison was really innocent. Yes, I think it was brave of him–but I wish he hadn’t all the same,’ she added.
‘That–we all wish that,’ said Miss Lindstrom briskly.
Hester looked at her with her interest suddenly aroused from her own preoccupation.
‘So you feel that too, Kirsty? I thought perhaps it was only me.’
‘I am not a fool,’ said Miss Lindstrom sharply. ‘I can envisage certain possibilities that your Dr Calgary does not seem to have thought about.’
Hester rose. ‘I must go to Father,’ she said.
Kirsten Lindstrom agreed.
‘Yes. He will have had time now to think what is best to be done.’
As Hester went into the library Gwenda Vaughan was busy with the telephone. Her father beckoned to her and Hester went over and sat on the arm of his chair.
‘We’re trying to get through to Mary and to Micky,’ he said. ‘They ought to be told at once of this.’
‘Hallo,’ said Gwenda Vaughan. ‘Is that Mrs Durrant? Mary? Gwenda Vaughan here. Your father wants to speak to you.’
Leo went over and took up the receiver.
‘Mary? How are you? How is Philip?…Good. Something rather extraordinary has happened…I thought you ought to be told of it at once. A Dr Calgary has just been to see us. He brought a letter from Andrew Marshall with him. It’s about Jacko. It seems–really a very extraordinary thing altogether–it seems that that story Jacko told at the trial, of having been given a lift into Drymouth in somebody’s car, is perfectly true. This Dr Calgary was the man who gave him the lift…’ He broke off, as he listened to what his daughter was saying at the other end. ‘Yes, well, Mary, I won’t go into all the details now as to why he didn’t come forward at the time. He had an accident–concussion. The whole thing seems to be perfectly well authenticated. I rang up to say that I think we should all have a meeting here together as soon as possible. Perhaps we could get Marshall to come down and talk the matter over with us. We ought, I think, to have the best legal advice. Could you and Philip?…Yes…Yes, I know. But I really think, my dear, that it’s important…Yes…well ring me up later, if you like. I must try and get hold of Micky.’ He replaced the receiver.
Gwenda Vaughan came towards the telephone.
‘Shall I try and get Micky now?’
Hester said:
‘If this is going to take a little time, could I ring up first, please, Gwenda? I want to ring up Donald.’
‘Of course,’ said Leo. ‘You are going out with him this evening, aren’t you?’
‘I was,’ said Hester.
Her father gave her a sharp glance.
‘Has this upset you very much, darling?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Hester. ‘I don’t know quite what I feel.’
Gwenda made way for her at the telephone and Hester dialled a number.
‘Could I speak to Dr Craig, please? Yes. Yes. Hester Argyle speaking.’
There was a moment or two of delay and then she said:
‘Is that you, Donald?…I rang up to say that I don’t think I can come with you to the lecture tonight…No, I’m not ill–it’s not that, it’s just–well, just that we’ve–we’ve had some rather queer news.’
Again Dr Craig spoke.
Hester turned her head towards her father. She laid her hand over the receiver and said to him:
‘It isn’t a secret, is it?’
‘No,’ said Leo slowly. ‘No, it isn’t exactly a secret but–well, I should just ask Donald to keep it to himself for the present, perhaps. You know how rumours get around, get magnified.’
‘Yes, I know.’ She spoke again into the receiver. ‘In a way I suppose it’s what you’d call good news, Donald, but–it’s rather upsetting. I’d rather not talk about it over the telephone…No, no, don’t come here…Please not. Not this evening. Tomorrow some time. It’s about–Jacko. Yes–yes–my brother–it’s just that we’ve found out that he didn’t kill my mother after all…But please don’t say anything, Donald, or talk to anyone. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow…No, Donald, no…I just can’t see anyone this evening–not even you. Please. And don’t say anything.’ She put down the receiver, and motioned to Gwenda to take over.
Gwenda asked for a Drymouth number. Leo said gently:
‘Why don’t you go to the lecture with Donald, Hester? It will take your mind off things.’
‘I don’t want to, Father. I couldn’t.’
Leo said:
‘You spoke–you gave him the impression that it wasn’t good news. But you know, Hester, that’s not so. We were startled. But we’re all very happy about it–very glad…What else could we be?’
‘That’s what we’re going to say, is it?’ said Hester.
Leo said warningly:
‘My dear child–’
‘But it’s not true, is it?’ said Hester. ‘It’s not good news. It’s just terribly upsetting.’
Gwenda said:
‘Micky’s on the line.’
Again Leo came and took the receiver from her. He spoke to his son very much as he had spoken to his daughter. But his news was received rather differently from the way it had been received by Mary Durrant. Here there was no protest, surprise or disbelief. Instead there was quick acceptance.
