“It was your habit to work in the garden until it was dark?”
“Yes; gardening is both my recreation and occupation.” Mrs. Ives’s tranquil eyes smiled at the prosecutor as though she expected to find in him an understanding soul. “Those hours after dinner were a great happiness to me, and often after it was too dark for any further work I would prolong them by sitting on a bench in the rose arbour and thinking over work well done. It was generally dark before I came in.”
“And was on the night of the nineteenth of June?”
“Oh, yes; it had been dark for some time.”
“Did you go straight to bed when you came in?”
“No; I stopped for a moment in the flower room to put away the basket with my tools and to tidy up a bit. Gardening is a grubby business.” Again that delicate, friendly smile. “Just as I was coming out I saw Melanie, the waitress, turning out the lights in the living room, and I remember thinking that it must be ten o’clock, as that was the time that she usually did it if the family were not at home. Then I went on up to bed. It wasn’t very long after I had turned out the light that I heard the front door close and thought, ‘That must be Sue.’ ”
“It didn’t occur to you that it might be your son?”
“Oh, no; Pat never got in before twelve if he was playing cards.”
“You say that you saw Mrs. Ives. Did she come straight up to your room?”
“No; about five minutes after I heard the door close, I imagine. My room is in the left wing of the house, you understand, and I always leave my door a little ajar. Sue came to the door and asked in a whisper, ‘Are you awake, Mother?’ I said that I was and she came in, saying, ‘I brought you your fruit; I’ll just put it on the stand.’ ”