Ordeal by Innocence - Agatha Christie [4]
“No,” said Calgary.
There was a moment’s silence. The sharp negative had taken both his listeners aback. It had come out with almost explosive force. Trying to mitigate its effect, he said awkwardly:
“I—I’m sorry. You see, you don’t understand yet.”
“Oh!” Argyle seemed to consider. Then he turned his head towards his daughter. “Hester, I think perhaps you’d better leave us—”
“I’m not going away! I’ve got to hear—to know what it’s all about.”
“It may be unpleasant—”
Hester cried out impatiently:
“What does it matter what other awful things Jacko may have done? That’s all over.”
Calgary spoke quickly.
“Please believe me—there is no question of anything that your brother has done—quite the opposite.”
“I don’t see—”
The door at the far end of the room opened and the young woman whom Calgary had just glimpsed earlier came back into the room. She wore an outdoor coat now, and carried a small attaché-case.
She spoke to Argyle.
“I’m going now. Is there anything else—”
There was a momentary hesitation on Argyle’s part (he would always hesitate, Calgary thought) and then he laid a hand on her arm and drew her forward.
“Sit down, Gwenda,” he said. “This is—er—Dr. Calgary. This is Miss Vaughan, who is who is—” Again he paused as though in doubt. “Who has been my secretary for some years now.” He added: “Dr. Calgary has come to tell us something—or—ask us something—about Jacko—”
“To tell you something,” Calgary interrupted. “And although you don’t realize it, every moment you are making it more difficult for me.”
They all looked at him in some surprise, but in Gwenda Vaughan’s eyes, he saw a flicker of something that looked like comprehension. It was as though he and she were momentarily in alliance, as though she had said: “Yes—I know how difficult the Argyles can be.”
She was an attractive young woman, he thought, though not so very young—perhaps thirty-seven or eight. A well-rounded figure, dark hair and eyes, a general air of vitality and good health. She gave the impression of being both competent and intelligent.
Argyle said with a frosty touch in his manner: “I am not at all aware of making things difficult for you, Dr. Calgary. Such was certainly not my intention. If you will come to the point—”
“Yes, I know. Forgive me for saying what I did. But it is the persistence with which you—and your daughter—are continually underlining that things are now over—done with—finished. They are not over. Who is it who said: ‘Nothing is ever settled until—’”
“‘Until it is settled right,’” Miss Vaughan finished for him. “Kipling.”
She nodded at him encouragingly. He felt grateful to her.
“But I’ll come to the point,” Calgary went on. “When you’ve heard what I have to say, you’ll understand my—my reluctance. More, my distress. To begin with, I must mention a few things about myself. I am a geophysicist, and have recently formed part of an Antarctic expedition. I only returned to England a few weeks ago.”
“The Hayes Bentley Expedition?” asked Gwenda.
He turned towards her gratefully.
“Yes. It was the Hayes Bentley Expedition. I tell you this to explain my background, and also to explain that I have been out of touch for about two years with—with current events.”
She went on helping him:
“You mean—with such things as murder trials?”
“Yes, Miss Vaughan, that is exactly what I mean.”
He turned to Argyle.
“Please forgive me if this is painful, but I must just check over with you certain times and dates. On November 9th, the year before last, at about six o’clock in the evening, your son, Jack Argyle (Jacko to you), called here and had an interview with his mother, Mrs. Argyle.”
“My wife, yes.”
“He told her that he was in trouble and demanded money. This had happened before—”
“Many times,” said Leo with a sigh.
“Mrs. Argyle refused. He became abusive, threatening. Finally he flung away and left, shouting out that he was coming back and that she had ‘jolly well got to stump up.’ He said, ‘You don’t want me