Mrs Matthews gave a little tinkling laugh. “Poor Harriet was never one to minimise her own ailments,” she said. “I daresay that she may have said that she felt very bad, but I was so accustomed to her habit of exaggerating the least disorder, that I am afraid I didn't set a great deal of store by what she said. It seemed obvious to me that her stomach was thoroughly upset, and I did exactly what I should have done for one of my own children.”
The Superintendent's calm voice, with its undercurrent of implacability, broke in on this. “Yet Mrs Beecher, who had known Miss Matthews for seven and a half years, states that she was never one to give way easily.”
Mrs Matthews' eyes snapped. “Mrs Beecher knows nothing about it! It was hardly to be expected that my sister-in-law would confide in the cook. Stella, you know what an absurd fuss your aunt used to make if she had as much as a cold in her head, don't you?”
“Mrs Matthews, I am sure your daughter will corroborate any statement you ask her to, but you should realise that her testimony when prompted in that manner, is not likely to weigh with me.”
“It comes to this, Superintendent: you prefer to believe the servants' words sooner than mine!” said Mrs Matthews.
“It comes to this, Mrs Matthews: you have not been frank with me; you are still not being frank. It is only fair to tell you that I am not satisfied with your evidence. I must warn you that your continued refusal to remember circumstances which I am convinced cannot have slipped your memory may have very serious consequences.”
Guy, who had been standing quite still, with his back to the door, suddenly walked forward into the middle of the room, and said: “Stella, let mother sit down. Look here, Superintendent, my mother had nothing whatsoever to do with either of these murders, and I'm not going to stand by and see her bullied by you, or anyone else! What the Beechers say is utterly beside the point. They neither of them like my mother, and they're under notice to leave. My aunt didn't complain of any of the things you've mentioned to my sister and me at breakfast, and we neither of us thought that she looked particularly ill.”
“That is quite possible,” said Hannasyde. “Some little time elapsed between your seeing your aunt at breakfast and the butler's meeting her in the hall. I appreciate your feelings in the matter, Mr Matthews, but you are doing no good by this sort of interruption.”
“There's one thing you seem to be leaving out of account,” said Guy, disregarding this warning. “Both my sister and I can certify that my aunt complained of feeling ill at breakfast, before ever she had seen my mother. If you imagine there was nicotine in the medicine my mother gave her, I would remind you that it was given at least an hour after she began to feel ill—and, since you set so much store by what Beecher says—after he had met her in the hall, and been struck by her appearance.”
“I am quite aware of that, Mr Matthews.”