Clearly she didn’t miss a thing. I tried to think what else to ask her. “You heard, presumably, about the little girl who died, didn’t you?”
“The one eight years ago? Oh, yes. I heard about that. Such a shame. She was a pretty little thing, and friendly too. I could walk in my garden in those days and she used to wave to me through the gate. She blew me a kiss once.”
“And her sister?”
“Always two steps behind the other child, and certainly not as friendly. There’s something wrong with her, isn’t there? That’s why he brought her here to live and had the special quarters constructed for her?”
I stared at her in amazement. “You knew about that?”
“Oh, yes. How could I fail to know when I watched the workmen going in and out, bringing supplies in after dark, and they weren’t local men either. He brought the child in after dark too, so I realized she was supposed to be some kind of secret.”
“Do many people know about her?”
“Only myself and Maude, of course. I am not one to gossip, so I have never seen fit to mention her to visitors.” She took a sip of coffee, then looked at me, bright eyed. “Is that why you’ve come to see me? You hope I might have seen something that sheds some light on two baffling deaths?” Before I could answer she went on, “Oh, yes. I never did quite accept that the child’s death was the tragic accident they claimed it was. Children are resilient you know. They don’t fall easily and if they do fall they don’t die easily. So unless she landed wrongly and broke her neck, I don’t believe our cliffs are tall enough to kill anybody.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“It did cross my mind that she might have been dead before she was thrown over the cliff.”
I sat in stunned silence. I could hear the coffee cup rattling in my nervous hand. My brothers and I had fallen occasionally while we clambered on the cliffs at home and had seldom come away with more than scrapes and bruises. Of course a strong push from her sister would have sent Colleen plummeting down, and could have killed her, especially if she was facing away from the cliff edge and fell onto the back of her head. But what if she also had been poisoned first? Not that we’d have any way of finding out now, would we? I couldn’t see the family agreeing to unearthing her remains. I sensed Miss Gallinger staring at me while all this went through my mind.
“I can see you have questioned this too,” she said. “Are you a family member, my dear?”
“No, my husband was a business associate of Mr. Hannan, that’s all. No connection to the family.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, you seem extremely interested for one who has no connection to the family.”
I smiled. “You are very astute. If you really want to know, I’m afraid the girl will be blamed for her grandfather’s death. And I’m also afraid that the local police won’t manage to find the true culprit.”
“And you think you will have a better chance of doing this than a policeman?” She cocked her head on one side, like a bird.
“No, of course not.” I laughed, feigning modesty.
“You may well do better than our local police,” she said. “Prescott was only made chief because of family connections. He hasn’t exactly demonstrated any great skills that I have witnessed. Good luck to you, my dear. I like a resourceful woman. I always felt I should have been able to make much of my life if I hadn’t been saddled with Mama.” She pulled back the drapes and peeked out of the window. “I believe you may have visitors,” she said, and indeed Sid and Gus were walking up the street toward the front gate.
“You’re right,” I said. “These are my friends from New York.”
“Staying at the Roman Palace, no less,” she said dryly. “My, but you move in exalted circles.”
“The Roman Palace is owned by my friend’s cousin,” I said. “She’s a Walcott.”
“Well, she would be, wouldn’t she?” She reached out and patted my hand. “You’d better run along then. But I’ll keep my eyes open for you, just in case there is anything else to be seen.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at her fondly. “I have enjoyed talking with you. I’d like to come again.”
As I went to go she said, “That family, they are great ones for secrecy, aren’t they? Such a lot to hide. All those comings and goings through the little door in the ivy.”
I turned back quickly. “Really?” I asked. “Who, for example?”
“The brother, for example.”
“Joseph Hannan or the priest?”
“Not the priest. The one who resembles Brian Hannan. Always slipping out—or helping a young woman to slip in.” She grinned wickedly. “And his son too. Slipping out, slipping in at the oddest hours.”
“I suspected that,” I said. “He seems like a devious one to me.”
“He went out that evening, you know. I was going to bed, looked out and I saw him. About nine-thirty or ten.”
“Interesting.”