29 Poison in the Pen by Patricia Wentworth

Author:Patricia Wentworth [Wentworth, Patricia]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

THE SOUND TREMBLED and died. It is to be doubted whether anyone who was more than a few feet away could have heard it. But it had reached Mettie Eccles herself. The hand that had clutched at the jamb went up to her throat. She turned back into the room. Miss Silver, following her, saw that Roger Repton had fallen forward across his desk. His hands were clenched and his face was hidden. The cup of tea which Miss Eccles had brought him had been overturned. The plate with its sandwiches and slice of sodden cake was awash. To the right of the table there was a miniature decanter. It was empty, with the stopper beside it. A broken tumbler lay in a scatter of glass. There was a cut on Colonel Repton’s clenched right hand, but no blood flowed from it. With one side of her orderly mind Miss Silver took note of all these things. With another and wholly womanly part she felt a deep compassion for Mettie Eccles, who knelt by the dead man, saying his name over and over in a tone of agonised protest.

‘No – no – no, Roger! Oh, Roger, no!’

A fire burned on the hearth, the room was full of tobacco smoke. On that warm, still air there floated a smell of almonds. It was not the first time that Miss Silver had encountered it in a criminal case. She had knelt over the body of a woman poisoned by cyanide, and been aware of it. When she lay her steady fingers upon Roger Repton’s wrist she did not expect to find a living pulse. There was none.

As she stood there, a few people had begun to cluster round the door and to look in. Scilla Repton had pushed through them. Walking up to the table, she said abruptly, ‘What is going on? Is Roger ill?’

Miss Silver lifted her hand from the dead wrist and turned to meet her.

‘Mrs Repton – I’m afraid—’

Mettie Eccles got to her feet.

‘You needn’t be,’ she said. ‘And you needn’t trouble to break it to her, because she knows.’

Scilla’s delicate make-up appeared suddenly ghastly as the natural colour beneath it drained away, leaving her face like a mask with vermilion lips. She said, ‘What do you mean?’ and Mettie Eccles told her.

‘You know very well that Roger is dead, because you killed him.’

Lady Mallett had loomed up beside them. She put a hand on Mettie’s arm and said in a horrified voice, ‘You can’t say things like that – oh, my dear Mettie, you can’t—’

The hand was shaken off. Those very bright blue eyes blazed at her. Mettie said loudly, ‘I shall tell the truth, and no one is going to stop me! She never cared for him, and now she has killed him! Do you suppose I am going to hold my tongue? She is an adulteress, and he found her out! He was sending her away, and he was going to divorce her! So she has killed him!’

Miss Silver said in her quiet voice, ‘Lady Mallett, the police must be notified.

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