Ordeal by Innocence

‘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.