Mrs. Jeffries & the Yuletide Weddings by Emily Brightwell

she claimed she’d neither seen nor heard anything suspicious yesterday. He hoped that Constable Barnes was having better luck with Mrs. Crowe.
    “There’s naught wrong with my hearing,” Hilda said as she spotted him. “I might be old, but I’m of sound mind and strong limb.” Her face was as wrinkled as a raisin, her eyes watery, and the few wisps of hair she had left were pure white.
    “I’m sure you are, Miss Bannister,” he said as he sat down on the sofa. “That’s why I’m so very anxious to speak with you.”
    “It took you long enough to get up here,” she charged. “I’ve been waiting.”
    “I had to speak with Miss Farley,” he replied. “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Now, do you recall what time it was that the man came to speak to Miss Moran yesterday?”
    She thought for a moment. “I don’t recall exactly what time it was; my clock is in my room and I was out here. But it was sometime in the morning when I heard someone knocking loud enough to wake the dead. Usually Mrs. Middleton takes care of the door, but she was gone to do the shopping, so I guess one of the others must have opened up.”
    Witherspoon gave her an encouraging nod. “And you were sitting right out here when he was let into the house?”
    “That’s right, I was sitting here in my usual spot.”
    “Could you hear what was being said?”
    “Not exactly, but I could tell it was a man.” She chuckled. “So as I was alone here, I got up and scurried out onto the top step so I could have a listen. Life’s awfully boring when you get to be my age. My eyes are weak so I can’t read as much as I’d like”—she tapped the cane propped against her cushion—“and with my rheumatism, getting about is a little hard, so whenever there’s a bit of excitement in the house, I like to take an interest.”
    “Yes, of course you do,” he answered quickly. He rather admired her willingness to confess to being an eavesdropper. He’d observed that wanting to overhear what others said without being seen was a very common desire, yet very few people would actually admit to such an activity. “Did you hear what the man said?”
    “I just heard him yelling that he had to talk to Agatha Moran,” she said. “Miss Moran must have heard him shouting as well, because she came out of her office and told him to come with her. They went back inside and she closed the door, more’s the pity. It’s a very thick door, Inspector, but not thick enough to keep everything quiet. After a little while, I heard her screaming at him like a common fishwife.”
    “Were you able to make out any of the words?” he asked hopefully.
    “She called him names.” She grinned, revealing a surprisingly even set of white teeth. “None of the ones I heard were very flattering, either.”
    Witherspoon wondered if it would be indelicate if he asked her to repeat what she’d heard. He started to speak and then thought better of it. For a lady of her advanced years, perhaps it would be best to get some paper and ask her to write the words.
    But before he could suggest that course of action, she continued. “She called him a coward. I heard that one very clearly. I suspect the entire neighborhood heard it, she was shouting it loud enough.”
    Apparently, she wasn’t the least embarrassed to repeat what she’d heard.
    “Then she called him a craven, spineless excuse for a man and told him that if he wasn’t going to do anything about it, he should stop wasting her time and just go.”
    “This is very useful, Miss Bannister,” Witherspoon said eagerly. “Please go on.”
    “They had come out of the office by then and were in the hallway just below. That’s why I was able to hear them so clearly.”
    “How long was the man here?”
    She tapped her finger against her chin. “Not long. Certainly not more than ten or fifteen minutes. They were in the office talking quietly for a good part of that time and then she started screaming at him. By