“So unfortunate that wretched ship going ashore there,” said Colonel Julyan, “but for that the whole matter would have rested in peace.”
“Yes,” said Maxim.
“The only consolation is that now we know poor Mrs. de Winter’s death must have been swift and sudden, not the dreadful slow lingering affair we all believed it to be. There can have been no question of trying to swim.”
“None,” said Maxim.
“She must have gone down for something, and then the door jammed, and a squall caught the boat without anyone at the helm,” said Colonel Julyan. “A dreadful thing.”
“Yes,” said Maxim.
“That seems to be the solution, don’t you think, Crawley?” said Colonel Julyan, turning to Frank.
“Oh, yes, undoubtedly,” said Frank.
I glanced up, and I saw Frank looking at Maxim. He looked away again immediately but not before I had seen and understood the expression in his eyes. Frank knew. And Maxim did not know that he knew. I went on stirring my coffee. My hand was hot, damp.
“I suppose sooner or later we all make a mistake in judgment,” said Colonel Julyan, “and then we are for it. Mrs. de Winter must have known how the wind comes down like a funnel in that bay, and that it was not safe to leave the helm of a small boat like that. She must have sailed alone over that spot scores of times. And then the moment came, she took a chance—and the chance killed her. It’s a lesson to all of us.”
“Accidents happen so easily,” said Frank, “even to the most experienced people. Think of the number killed out hunting every season.”
“Oh, I know. But then it’s the horse falling generally that lets you down. If Mrs. de Winter had not left the helm of her boat the accident would never have happened. An extraordinary thing to do. I must have watched her many times in the handicap race on Saturdays from Kerrith, and I never saw her make an elementary mistake. It’s the sort of thing a novice would do. In that particular place too, just by the ridge.”
“It was very squally that night,” said Frank; “something may have happened to the gear. Something may have jammed. And then she slipped down for a knife.”
“Of course. Of course. Well, we shall never know. And I don’t suppose we should be any the better for it if we did. As I said before, I wish I could stop this inquest but I can’t. I’m trying to arrange it for Tuesday morning, and it will be as short as possible. Just a formal matter. But I’m afraid we shan’t be able to keep the reporters out of it.”
There was another silence. I judged the time had come to push back my chair.
“Shall we go into the garden?” I said.
We all stood up, and then I led the way to the terrace. Colonel Julyan patted Jasper.
“He’s grown into a nice-looking dog,” he said.
“Yes,” I said.
“They make nice pets,” he said.
“Yes,” I said.
We stood about for a minute. Then he glanced at his watch. “Thank you for your most excellent lunch,” he said. “I have rather a busy afternoon in front of me, and I hope you will excuse me dashing away.”
“Of course,” I said.
“I’m so very sorry this should have happened. You have all my sympathy. I consider it’s almost harder for you than for your husband. However, once the inquest is over you must both forget all about it.”
“Yes,” I said, “yes, we must try to.”
“My car is here in the drive. I wonder whether Crawley would like a lift. Crawley? I can drop you at your office if it’s any use.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Frank.
He came and took my hand. “I shall be seeing you again,” he said.
“Yes,” I said.
I did not look at him. I was afraid he would understand my eyes. I did not want him to know that I knew. Maxim walked with them to the car. When they had gone he came back to me on the terrace. He took my arm. We stood looking down at the green lawns towards the sea and the beacon on the headland.
“It’s going to be all right,” he said. “I’m quite calm, quite confident. You saw how Julyan was at lunch, and Frank. There won’t be any difficulty at the inquest. It’s going to be all right.”
I did not say anything. I held his arm tightly.
“There was never any question of the body being someone unknown,” he said. “What we saw was enough for Doctor Phillips even to make the identification alone without me. It was straightforward, simple. There was no trace of what I’d done. The bullet had not touched the bone.”