THE CROW'S INN TRAGEDY (Murder Mystery Classic). Annie Haynes

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СКАЧАТЬ don't know," Walls said helplessly. "I didn't see him any more."

      The inspector drew a small parcel wrapped in tissue paper from his breast pocket and, opening it, displayed to the clerk's astonished eyes a long, white suède glove.

      "Have you ever seen this before?"

      John Walls peered at it.

      "No. I can't say that I have. It--It is a lady's glove, inspector."

      "It is a lady's glove," the inspector assented. "Where do you imagine it was found, Mr. Walls?"

      "I'm sure I don't know," Walls said, staring at him. "It--I think a good many ladies wear gloves like that nowadays, Mr. Furnival. I know Mrs. Walls--"

      "This particular glove," the inspector went on, "I found beside Mr. Bechcombe's writing-table this afternoon."

      "Did you?" Mr. Walls looked amazed. "Well, I don't know how it came there. All Mr. Bechcombe's clients were men that came to-day."

      "Except perhaps the one that came to the private door," suggested the inspector.

      "I don't know anything about that," Walls said in a puzzled tone. "I never heard anything of a lady coming to-day."

      The inspector folded the glove up and put it away again.

      "That will do for the present, Mr. Walls. I should like to see Mr. Thompson if he returns, and now please send Miss Hoyle to me."

      Walls looked uncomfortably surprised.

      "Miss Hoyle?"

      "Yes, Miss Hoyle--Mr. Bechcombe's secretary!" the inspector said sharply. "I suppose you know her, Mr. Walls?"

      "Oh, yes," Walls stammered. "At least, I couldn't say I know her. I have spoken to her once or twice. But she didn't make any friends among us. And her office was quite apart. She didn't come through our door, or anything. She is a lady--quite a lady, you understand, and her office is next to Mr. Bechcombe's own."

      "Indeed!" For once the inspector looked really interested. "Well, I should like to see Miss Hoyle without delay, Mr. Walls."

      "Very well, I will tell her at once."

      Miss Hoyle did not keep the inspector waiting. He glanced at her keenly as he placed a chair for her.

      "Your name, please?"

      "Cecily Frances Hoyle."

      "How long have you been with Mr. Bechcombe?"

      "Just over a month."

      "Where were you previously?"

      "At school. Miss Arnold Watson's at Putney. I stayed there until I was nineteen as a governess-pupil. Then--I hadn't any real gift for teaching--I took a course in shorthand and typing. Mr. Bechcombe wanted a secretary and I was fortunate enough to get the job."

      "Um!" The inspector turned over a new page in his notebook. "Now will you tell me all you know about Mr. Bechcombe's death?"

      Cecily stared at him.

      "But I don't know anything," she said helplessly. "I never saw Mr. Bechcombe after he called me into his office about a quarter to twelve."

      "A quarter to twelve!" The inspector pricked up his ears. "You saw Mr. Bechcombe at a quarter to twelve?"

      "At a quarter to twelve," she confirmed. "He sounded the electric bell which rings in my office, and I went in to him. He told me that he should have some important work for me later in the day, but that at present there was nothing and that I could go out to lunch when I liked. When I came back there were some letters to be attended to, and then he said I was to wait until he rang for me. That was all."

      "You saw and heard nothing more of Mr. Bechcombe until you came on the scene when the door was broken open by the clerks?"

      "I did not see anything."

      The slight emphasis on the verb did not escape the inspector.

      "Or hear anything?" he demanded sharply. "Be very careful please, Miss Hoyle."

      "I heard him speak to some one outside very soon after I had gone back to my office, and I heard him moving about his room after I came from lunch," Cecily said, her colour rising a little.

      The inspector looked at her searchingly. "To whom did you hear Mr. Bechcombe speak?"

      Cecily hesitated, the colour that was creeping back slowly into her cheeks deepening perceptibly.

      "Some one was knocking at the door," she stammered. "I think Mr. Bechcombe spoke to him. I heard him say he was engaged."

      "Who was he speaking to?"

      The girl twisted her hands together.

      "It was his nephew, Mr. Anthony Collyer."

      "How do you know?" The inspector fired his questions at her rather as if they had been pistol shots.

      Cecily looked round her in an agony of confusion.

      "He came to my office--Mr. Anthony, I mean."

      "Why should he come to your office?"

      "He asked me to go out to lunch with him," Cecily faltered. Then seeing the look on the inspector's face, she gathered up her courage with both hands and faced him with sudden resolution. "We are engaged," she said simply. "We--I mean it hasn't been announced yet, but his father knows; and we shall tell mine as soon as he comes home--he is abroad now--we are engaged, Anthony Collyer and I."

      The inspector might have smiled but that the thing was too serious.

      "Did Mr. Bechcombe know?"

      The girl hesitated a moment.

      "I think he guessed. From the way he smiled when he mentioned Mr. Collyer in the morning."

      The inspector looked over his notes. He was inclined to think that Cecily Hoyle's evidence, if it could be relied on, would put Anthony Collyer off his list of suspects. Still, he was not going to take any chances.

      "I see. So you went out with Mr. Anthony Collyer. Where did you lunch?"

      "I said he asked me," Cecily corrected. "But I didn't say I would go. However, we were talking about it and walking down--the passage together when Mr. Bechcombe called Tony back--'I want you a minute, Tony,' he said."

      "Well?" the inspector prompted as she paused.

      "Tony did not want to go back," the girl said slowly. "But I persuaded him. 'I will wait for you in St. Philip's Field of Rest,' I said. He ran back, promising not to keep me waiting for a minute."

      "Field of Rest," the inspector repeated. "What is a Field of Rest?"

      "At the back of St. Philip's Church--just over the way. It is the old graveyard really, you know," Cecily explained. "But they have levelled the stones and put seats there, and it is a СКАЧАТЬ