When she reached the spreading shade of the elms her brisk pace slackened and Quinn thought she was going to turn back. But it was only a momentary pause. Seconds later he lost sight of her beyond the trees.
Then Carole came out and joined him in the porch. She said, “Good morning. Who was that?”
“Your friend Miss Wilkinson.”
A look of distaste spoiled the shape of Carole’s mouth. She said, “No friend of mine … but that’s by the by. What did she want?”
“Nothing particular. Just a social call.”
“Which means she was on the prowl for gossip. Whose reputation did she try to blacken?”
“Nobody’s,” Quinn said. “She wasn’t here more than two or three minutes.”
“That’s long enough for Ariadne to bring down the government. Have you had any breakfast?”
“Yes, thank you. I helped myself. Hope that was all right?”
“Certainly. Adele always liked people —”
Carole shivered and looked away. In a small voice, she said, “I keep forgetting … What I meant was that nobody stands on ceremony in this house. You don’t need to ask for permission.”
“I’ll remember that,” Quinn said.
She left him and went into the kitchen. A little while later, Neil Ford came downstairs, followed not long afterwards by Michael Parry.
Ford gave Quinn a nod but no other greeting. He looked as churlish as he had been the night before. Quinn heard him talking in an undertone to Carole until one of them shut the kitchen door and blotted out everything except the intermittent murmur of their voices.
Parry seemed to have benefited from a night’s sleep. His faded blue eyes were brighter and he was less subdued.
With the same air of bonhomie that he had worn when he welcomed Quinn to the house, he said, “Good morning, old man. Carole’s not much good as a weather prophet, is she? Forecast rain … and it’s as fine a day as you could wish for. Had breakfast?”
“Yes, thank you. I’ve been down quite some time.”
“So I gathered from Irene. Says you two had a very interesting chat. Seems to have taken a liking to you, old man.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Quinn said.
… She did most of the talking and all I had to do was listen. That’s why she likes me. Don’t suppose anyone ever listens to her — least of all her husband. Wonder if she was born inadequate or if parents and family and environment crushed her spirit? Marrying a man like Neil Ford would be the last straw …
Michael brushed up his moustache with the back of his hands. He said, “O.K. then. Think I’ll go and see what’s cooking.”
He used both hands to point the ends of his moustache. Then he asked, “What do you intend to do with yourself to-day?”
It sounded like nothing more than an idle question. He was just being sociable.
Quinn said, “I think I’ll enjoy some fresh air and sunshine. Don’t often get much of either.”
“Good idea. You do that. And if you want to do it the lazy way, borrow my car. The keys are in the ignition.”
“Thanks … but won’t you need it yourself?”
“I shouldn’t think so. The odds are that Inspector Elvin will be calling on me again some time to-day.”
“Did he say so?”
“No. But I’ve got a feeling in my kidneys that he’s still got some questions up his sleeve.”
Parry turned away. Then he glanced back and asked, “Have you heard from him since last night?”
It sounded like another artless question. But this time Quinn was not so sure.
He said, “No.”
Mrs. Gregg arrived soon after nine o’clock. She was a sturdy woman with thick legs and a bovine face and black, skimpy hair. Her eyes were the type that missed nothing.
Quinn saw her studying him as she went round to the rear of the house. A minute or two later she came out of the kitchen and walked with a solid tread to where he stood just outside the front door.
She said, “They told me you were Mr. Quinn.”
Her voice conveyed a mixture of protest and accusation. Then her mouth closed firmly and she stared at him with unmoving eyes.
Quinn said, “Whoever they are, they were right. I can’t deny it.”
Nothing changed in her stolid face. She said, “I’m Mrs. Gregg.”
“Glad to know you.”
Her mouth relaxed momentarily in a pretence of a smile. She said, “They’re all in the kitchen except Mrs. Ford so I can’t get started in there … and she’s taking a bath … and there’s a lot to do … so I hope you won’t mind.”
“Whatever it is, I won’t mind at all,” Quinn said. “But just out of sheer curiosity, what is it?”
In a patient voice, she said, “I’d like to make the bed and tidy up in your room. If I don’t start somewhere I’ll never get done.”
Quinn said, “That’s a very good thought. So far as I’m concerned, go right ahead.”
“I won’t be in your way?”
“No, you needn’t worry about that. The room’s all yours. Take as long as you like.”
As though she hadn’t heard him, Mrs. Gregg said, “I don’t want to cause no trouble. Sometimes it’s not very convenient … and I like to make myself a convenience for people. But not everybody’s like that, are they?”
“Offhand, I can’t think of many,” Quinn said.
“Yes, that’s what’s wrong with the world — no consideration. We shouldn’t be surprised when terrible things happen.”
“I’m never surprised at anything,” Quinn said.
He knew what was coming. This was another one who wanted to talk.
… Must be something about me … yet it doesn’t have the same effect on Bossard or Neil Ford. Maybe that’s significant. Maybe it’s because they’ve got something to hide and the others haven’t. All the rest unburden themselves freely — even that smooth character, Elvin …
Mrs. Gregg spread her feet farther apart and folded her arms. With no trace of sentiment in her voice, she said, “Very sad about Mrs. Parry, isn’t it? I always say life’s short enough without dying.”
Quinn said, “How right you are.”
“Oh, yes, always look on the bright side, that’s what I say. But it makes you think, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does. Did you see Mrs. Parry before you left here yesterday?”
“No, she hadn’t come back yet. And down in the village they’re saying —”
“I wouldn’t pay too much attention to what they’re saying down in the village,” Quinn said. “Anything you know you’d better keep to yourself. There’s a police inspector making inquiries and he’ll want to talk to you later on. If he hasn’t arrived before you go I’ll take your address so that he can call on you at home.”
Mrs. Gregg’s eyes became more intent. She said, “If the police are in it they must think there’s something funny going on.”
“Not necessarily. They always ask questions in a case of this kind. That’s the way they do things.”
“Oh, I know that well enough. I’ve seen it lots of times on the telly.”
“Good. I’m sure you’ll be very helpful. When Mrs. Parry went away last Monday did she tell you she’d be home Friday evening?”
“No, never said a word to me about going away. It was Mr. Parry what told me when I came on Tuesday.”
“So you didn’t know until then that she’d gone to London?”
With a slightly puzzled look on her dull face, Mrs. Gregg said, “It wasn’t London she went to. It was that place they call Wood Lake … or something.”
“How did you know that?”
“Mr. Parry told me. I asked him where she was and that and he said she’d gone off for a few days to —”
“Yes, I see. And I suppose he mentioned she’d be coming back on Friday?”
“Oh, no, he didn’t mention when she’d be back.” Mrs. Gregg raised her folded arms a little higher and gave Quinn a shrewd look. “I’d have been surprised if he had the way things have been in this house … not that it’s my place to talk about them but when the poor lady’s dead and I’m the one what knows better than anybody why she done it … well, it’d be wrong of me to keep quiet, wouldn’t it?”
“Very wrong,” Quinn said. “How have things been recently?”
“Nasty. That’s the only word for it — nasty. Of course, they weren’t suited to each other from the start. I could see that. He wasn’t” — she glanced over her shoulder to the kitchen door — “he wasn’t anything like Mrs. Parry’s first husband. Now there was a fine man for you. Never any arguing or quarrelling with him.”
“You mean that Mr. and Mrs. Parry quarrelled a lot?”
Mrs. Gregg unfolded her arms and rested one hand on the jamb of the door. She said, “Well, I wouldn’t put it like that. You couldn’t rightly say they quarrelled. No time for each other, I’d say. At least, she hadn’t no time for him. Found out too late, you see. And after that there was nothing she could do about it. Trouble never does run smooth, does it?”
“Something like that,” Quinn said. “What was it she found out too late?”
“Well, he wasn’t” — Mrs. Gregg held Quinn’s eyes with a long, unwinking look — “he wasn’t exactly the man she’d expected … if you get my meaning.”
“I don’t. Many a woman has found that her husband didn’t come up to expectations: it’s more the rule than the exception. But most marriages don’t end like this one.”
“Too bad if they did. I believe in what it says: For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health … and all that. We can’t all be like Mrs. Parry, can we?”
“Now I’m not with you,” Quinn said.
“Ah, that’s because you don’t see what I mean. We’re not all the same, are we?”
“No … but I’m afraid you’re getting away from —”
“Well, there’s the whole point. Mrs. Parry was rich. Not like me. And it makes a difference, doesn’t it? We wouldn’t look at things the same way, would we?”
Quinn gave up the struggle. He said, “No, I don’t suppose you would.”
“Of course not. I’ve got to work for my living. Always have and always will. But don’t get me wrong. That’s the way I like it to be. Wouldn’t have it any other way — even if I do know I can’t. I don’t believe in all this fratriciding by people who can’t afford it.”
She ended on a note of triumph. When she looked at Quinn as though daring him to contradict her, he said, “How right you are! I couldn’t agree more … to coin a phrase. Now we’ve got that settled let’s get back to Mr. Parry and his failings. What do you think was wrong with him?”
In an artificially prim voice, Mrs. Gregg said, “Well, it’s not exactly what I like to talk about … in the manner of speaking. But if you really want to know …”
“I do. And the police will want to know as well. So I’ll help you to put your thoughts in order ready for the inspector’s arrival this afternoon.”
Once again she glanced over her shoulder to the kitchen door. Then she said, “I’ve always thought it needn’t be the man’s fault. A lot depends on the kind of wife he marries. With some women that sort of thing isn’t all that important. Others can’t get enough of it … if you follow me.”
Quinn said, “Now I know what you’re talking about. But how do you know that’s what was wrong between them?”
“Because I’ve heard her complaining many a time. Not that I deliberately listened …”
“No, of course not. She just talked loud enough for you to hear her.”
“That’s right. Many a time. Told him he wasn’t a man … had no right to marry her … if she’d known he never would’ve done. And then there was one day …”
Mrs. Gregg hesitated. The look on her heavy face invited Quinn to ask her to go on.
He said, “Yes? You may as well give me the whole story now.”
“I don’t know whether I should … you being a friend of his, and that.”
“I’m far from being a friend. I met Mr. Parry for the first time yesterday evening. So don’t worry. I won’t repeat anything you tell me.”
“Oh, I hope not. He’d say it was only because I don’t like him. She was nice to me … but he’s always had too big an opinion of himself. I once heard him call me Pathé’s Gazette. I’ve never found out what he meant but I know it’s rude and I don’t think he’s entitled to say nasty things about people when he’s no better than they are. It is rude, isn’t it?”
Quinn had a picture in his mind of a darkened cinema and the twin lenses of a movie camera on the screen as the newsreel came to an end. Then fade-out music coinciding with a legend: Pathé’s Gazette — The Eyes and the Ears of the World.
He said, “Whatever Mr. Parry meant I wouldn’t let it worry me if I were you. Instead tell me what happened that day you were talking about.”
Mrs. Gregg came out on to the porch and pulled the door almost shut behind her. With her eyes fixed immovably on Quinn’s face, she said hurriedly, “They must’ve thought I’d gone but I’d come back because I’d forgotten something and they didn’t bother to keep their voices down so I couldn’t help —” She stopped for lack of air.
“ — overhearing them,” Quinn said. “Quite natural. What did you hear?”
“It was about him drinking. She said it might be because he got drunk so often that he wasn’t much use. And he said all she ever thought about was getting into bed. She might’ve killed her first husband but she wasn’t going to kill him. That wasn’t very nice, was it?”
Quinn said, “Depends on the circumstances. What did he say?”
“I didn’t get it all. Just something about him taking too much for granted. All he cared about was himself. It wouldn’t matter to him if she dropped dead. He’d have no financiery worries and that was all he was concerned about.”
With an air of sadness Mrs. Gregg shook her head and went on, “Now the poor thing’s dead and so he’s got what he wants. Not that he had anything to do with it, of course, except it was through him she did it … but it makes you think, doesn’t it?”
“You’re so right,” Quinn said. “And I’m going for a walk while I think some more. Anyone wants me, I’ll be back about two. And tell Mrs. Ford or Miss Stewart I’m lunching out.”