“Oh, no. I don’t think she talked to anyone except Lisle.”

“You were not on those terms. But you could hardly have known her for all those years without having your own opinion of her character. Would you say she was the sort of girl who might commit suicide if she was unhappy over a love affair?”

The shoulder lifted again.

“I shouldn’t like to say. I suppose anyone might commit suicide if they were pushed too far. I don’t know how far she was pushed.”

The twice repeated verb made its own impression on the Inspector. He said in his most serious voice,

“Will you give me your impression of the girl.”

Rafe frowned. There was a fleeting likeness to the ancestral Lord Chief Justice. He said with distaste in his voice,

“Oh, a long, thin dreep. No guts. The sort that whines and has a perpetual cold when it’s a child. But with a kind of obstinacy underneath – you know what I mean.”

“Would you expect that sort of girl to throw herself over a cliff?”

“The unexpected does sometimes happen,” said Rafe.

Inspector March agreed. He took up his notebook, laid it down again, and said,

“When you left Mrs. Jerningham last night it was to go for a walk. Can you tell me in what direction you went?”

Rafe removed his foot from the stone kerb and straightened up. With a careless movement he turned his wrist and took a glance at the watch which was strapped there. He said in rather an absentminded voice,

“Oh that – I went down and along the beach.”

“In which direction?”

“Oh, round the bay.”

“Did you go in the direction of Tane Head?”

Rafe smiled.

“I was forgetting you were a stranger here. If you walk far enough round the bay you get to Tane Head – in time.”

“How much time?” said March rather quickly.

“That,” said Rafe, still smiling, “would depend upon how fast you walked.”

“How long did it take you last night?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t get as far as that last night. I turned half way. It would have been too convenient if I had gone on, wouldn’t it? Eyewitness’s account of- well, I should have been in a position to say whether it was suicide or murder. Or perhaps not? As I don’t know exactly where Cissie fell, it’s quite possible that I mightn’t have been any use as a witness even if I had been on the spot. There are places where the cliff overhangs quite a piece.”

“Are you sure you were not there?” said March very directly.

Rafe Jerningham strolled over to the table and stood looking down at the Inspector with his quizzical smile.

“Oh, quite sure.”

March returned his look with a searching one.

“I should like to know how long it usually takes you to reach Tane Head from here.”

Rafe’s tone changed. He said in a perfectly simple manner,

“It is four miles by road – say ten minutes in a car, or on foot just over the hour if you’re a good walker. Two miles by the beach, and it takes me three-quarters of an hour.”

“Thank you – that is what I wanted to know. But last night you turned back half way?”

“About half way.”

“How was the light when you turned?”

“Good enough to see me home.”

“That would be about half past nine?”

“A little later than that – but I didn’t look at my watch.”

“Could you see the headland? Could you have seen if there was anyone up there?”

“Until I turned – oh, yes.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“Not a soul.”

“Or hear anything – either before you turned or afterwards?”

“I’m afraid not. Too bad, isn’t it? I’d have been such a convenient witness if I’d only gone on round the bay! But if you’d ever tried walking there after dark you’d know why I turned back.”

March said, “I see.” And then, “What time did you get in last night?”

Rafe took his hands out of his pockets. He picked up Dale’s ruler and balanced it.

“Oh, latish,” he said. “If I’d known it was going to matter, I’d have kept count of the time, but I’m afraid I didn’t. That’s the worst of things like murders and suicides, they drop on you without any warning. If I’d known that the unfortunate Cissie was going to be anything of the sort, I’d have kept an eye on the time, but as it was, I just dawdled along and finished up by sitting down by the sea wall until – well, that’s the bother, I don’t know when.”

“Midnight?” suggested the Inspector.

“It might have been,” said Rafe.

Chapter 23

LISLE went out into the garden. Beyond the tennis courts there was a shady place backed by the tall mixed hedge and flanked by old thorn trees. There was a seat against the hedge. She sat down there, leaned back, and let herself relax. She could see the sky, too full of light to be very blue, a grassy slope planted with rhododendron, azalea, syringa, lilac, and the white eucryphia shining like orange blossom in the sun. Lower down a few dark conifers, and hollies – gold, silver, and the old English green. A slender maple fluttered frail pink and white leaves. The air was still, but these translucent leaves were never still. Nothing else moved except the sea, glittering, brightening, changing with its own secret motion.

Lisle saw all these things as one sees things so accustomed that they are part of consciousness and are accepted without thought. Light, shade, sun, air, the scent of growing things in the sun – she opened her mind to them and let them stay there.

She fell into a light sleep, and woke to see Dale looking down at her. He stood between her and the sun. She thought it was his shadow that had waked her. When he moved the sunlight slanted in again between the branches of the old thorn tree. It was warm upon her arm and breast.

He moved, but did not sit down – just stood there frowning a little and looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say but he did not quite know how to begin.

Still not quite awake, she said, “What is it, Dale?” And then all at once the truce of sleep was over and she was broad awake and startled.

He said, “I want to talk to you. This is going to be a most unpleasant business. You’ve got to help.”

She looked at him, her eyes wide and soft, a little colour in her cheeks.

“What do you mean?”

He spoke with a kind of nervous irritation which made the words sound harsher than he meant them to be.

“For God’s sake, Lisle, wake up and be your age! I suppose you don’t want a lot of talk about this affair any more than I do. Where on earth have you been all day? I wanted to get hold of you before you saw March. What did he say to you? What did you tell him?”

She thought before she spoke. Why did she need to think? His temper flamed.

“What did you say?”

Even then she didn’t hurry. If he had known it, she was trying to steady her voice. It was not so very steady as she said,

“He just wanted to know what Cissie had said to me, and whether she was the sort of girl who might commit suicide if she was unhappy. I told him I didn’t think she was.”

“Was that all?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“And what makes you so sure that Cissie wouldn’t commit suicide?” His voice was rough with anger. “I should have thought she was just the sort of spineless creature-”

Lisle interrupted him.

“Oh, no – she wasn’t like that at all.”

“You’re very sure.”

“Yes, I am – because she was so pleased with the coat I gave her. That’s what I told the Inspector, and I think he quite saw it. If you’re not too unhappy to be pleased with a new coat, you’re not so unhappy that you’d throw yourself over a cliff.”

Dale’s face had changed suddenly. With a rough impulsive movement he flung himself down beside her and caught her hands in his.

“That damned coat! Why did you give it to her? Do you think I don’t keep seeing it – all smashed and stained? Your coat! Horrible!”