‘Mrs. Ashley – listen to me! What are you talking about? Who made you promise not to tell?’

‘I never!’ said Mrs. Ashley with a rending sniff. ‘The police come, and I don’t know how I kep’ myself, but I never.’

‘Who did you promise? You must tell me who you promised.’

Mrs. Ashley’s sobs redoubled.

‘She come here, and I told her. And she sat in that chair and she arst me to promise. Not three months off her time she was. And I promised, and I kep’ my promise.’ She pushed the hair from her face with a trembling, dabbing hand and stared at Hilary in a sort of weak pride. ’I didn’t tell the police – I didn’t tell no one – only her-only Mrs. Grey.’

Hilary knelt down on the shabby floor so that she could face her eye to eye.

‘What did you hear?’ she said in a young, small voice.

Mrs. Ashley rocked and sobbed. Hilary’s voice went down into a whisper.

‘Tell me – Mrs. Ashley, tell me – I’ve got to know. It won’t hurt anyone now – Geoff’s in prison – the case is closed. I’m Marion ’s cousin – you can tell me. You see, I know that you came back. I’ve got to know what happened – I’ve got to know what you heard.’ She put out a hand and took the woman by the wrist. ’Mrs. Ashley, why did you go back?’

‘I dropped my letter.’

‘What letter?’

‘I’ve got a boy that went for a sailor. He’s seventeen – and it’s his first trip – and he wrote to me from India -and I took the letter for to show Mrs. Mercer -she and me used to talk about my boy, and about the one she set such store by in her first place – and when I got home I hadn’t got my letter, so I come back – ’

‘Yes?’ said Hilary.

Mrs. Ashley pushed back her damp hair.

‘Mr. Mercer he’d have burnt it or tore it up, Mr. Mercer would. No feelings for a mother, Mr. Mercer hasn’t – many’s the time me and Mrs. Mercer have said it when he wasn’t by. So I dursn’t leave it over till next day and I come back. I knew where I must have left it for certain, because it was when Mr. Everton was out and I was doing the study, and Mrs. Mercer come in aud I read her the letter. And I put it back in my pocket in a hurry because we heard Mr. Mercer, and it must have slipped out and seeing I was tight up against the curtains I’d good hope no one ’ad seen it. So I waited till I thought Mr. Everton ’ud be at dinner and I come along.’

‘Yes!’ said Hilary – ‘yes?’

Mrs. Ashley had stopped crying. She sniffed and gulped, but she was fairly launched.

‘I come back and I thought no need to let anyone know. And I thought a fine evening like this the study window’ll be open right down to the ground, and no more than to put my hand inside and take my letter if it was there, and if not I must just leave it and take my chance of a word with Mrs. Mercer.’ She paused and rocked herself, and stared at Hilary with frightened eyes. ‘I made sure Mr. Everton ’ud be at dinner, but I come along tight up to the wall and I hadn’t got to no more than a yard or two from the study window than I heard Mr. Everton call out and there come the sound of a shot, and I turned around and I ran.’ She choked on a sob. ‘I didn’t see no one, and no one didn’t see me. I don’t know how I get home – I don’t indeed.’

Hilary felt exactly as if someone had dashed cold water in her face. She was braced, eager, and steady. Something in her mind kept saying, ‘The time -the time that she heard the shot – that’s what matters – the time – the time of the shot.’ She said it aloud in a clear, firm voice.

‘What time was it? What time did you hear the shot?’

Mrs. Ashley stopped rocking. Her mouth fell open. She seemed to be thinking.

There was a clock struck when I come along Oakley Road- ’

‘Yes – yes?’

‘Eight o’clock it struck.’

Hilary drew a long joyful breath. It was only five minutes walk from Oakley Road to Solway Lodge. That is to say, Geoff had made five minutes of it. A woman would probably take seven or eight minutes, and a dreep like Mrs. Ashley might take ten. But if Mrs. Ashley had heard that shot fired at ten minutes past eight, it couldn’t have been fired by Geoffrey Grey. Geoff couldn’t possibly have reached Solway Lodge before a quarter past eight, and even then you had got to allow time for him to meet his uncle and quarrel with him if you were going to believe the Mercers’ evidence. She said in an eager, trembling voice:

‘Then it couldn’t have been later than ten past eight when you heard that shot?’

Mrs. Ashley sat back on her heels and stared. Her hands had fallen palm upwards in her lap. She said in a flat voice:

‘No, miss – it would be later than that – a good bit.’

Hilary’s heart gave a jump.

‘It couldn’t be! You couldn’t take more than ten minutes from Oakley Road – nobody could.’

‘Oh no, miss.’

‘Then it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes past eight.’

Mrs. Ashley opened and shut her mouth exactly like a fish. Then she said, ‘It was a good bit later than that,’ in her meek, flat voice.

‘How could it be?’

She moistened her lips again.

‘A good ten minutes out that clock have been ever since I been going to the house.’

‘Which way out?’

Mrs. Ashley blinked.

‘It must have been getting on for the half hour.’

‘You mean the clock was slow?’

‘A good ten minutes out.’

Hilary’s heart sank. The joy went out of her. No wonder Marion had asked this woman to hold her tongue. If she had really heard the shot at twenty past eight, her evidence would just about have finished Geoff. She winced sharply away from the picture of Marion -fine, proud Marion -going down on her knees to this woman to ask her to hold her tongue and give Geoff a chance, a bare chance, of escaping the hangman. She stood for a moment pressing her hands together. Then she said:

‘Mrs. Ashley – you’re quite sure about that clock being ten minutes slow?’

‘A good ten minutes, miss. I used to pass the remark to Mrs. Mercer many and many a time. “Nothing to go by that church clock of yours,” I used to say. “And all very well for you that’s got a watch, but many’s the time it’s given me a turn, and all for nothing.” They’ve put it right since, someone was telling me, but I don’t go that way now so I couldn’t say for sure.’

‘Did you hear anything besides the shot?’ Hilary was dreadfully afraid of this question, but she had to ask it or be a coward. And immediately she knew why she had been afraid. Panic looked at her out of Mrs. Ashley’s eyes and a trembling hand went up and covered her mouth. Hilary shook too. ‘What did you hear? You did hear something – I know you did. Did you hear voices?’

Mrs. Ashley moved her head. Hilary thought the wavering movement said ‘Yes.’

‘You heard voices? What voices?’

‘Mr. Everton’s.’ The words were stifled against the woman’s palm, but Hilary caught them.

‘You heard Mr. Everton’s voice? You’re sure?’

This time the movement of the head was almost a jerk. As far as Mrs. Ashley could be sure of anything she was sure that she had heard James Everton’s voice.

‘Did you hear any other voice?’

Again the wavering movement said ‘Yes.’

‘Whose voice?’

‘I don’t know, miss – not if it was my last word I don’t, and so I told Mrs. Grey when she came and arst me, pore thing. It was only just so I could say there was someone there quarrelling with Mr. Everton.’

Quarrelling… Hilary’s very heart was sick. Damning evidence against Geoff – damning corroboration of Mrs. Mercer’s evidence. And not bought, not cooked up, because this woman had nothing to gain. And she had held her tongue. She had been sorry for Marion, and she had held her tongue.

Hilary drew in her breath and forced herself on.

‘You didn’t hear anything the other person said?’

‘Oh no, miss.’

‘But you recognised Mr. Everton’s voice?’

‘Oh yes, miss.’

‘And you heard what he said?’ Hilary was pressing her hard.