WHO KILLED CHARMIAN KARSLAKE? (Murder Mystery Classic). Annie Haynes

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ was standing before Miss Karslake's nearly empty dressing-bag. Celeste had taken out most of the actress's belongings. At the bottom of the bag was the usual debris of papers. The inspector went on his knees and picked out the only thing with writing on. But there were no notes that appeared to be of the slightest value. A bill or two, a couple of receipts, a pencilled line from the manager of the Golden, torn-up scraps out of which the inspector and Harbord could make nothing. Then just as they were clearing out the last the inspector bent down with a sharp exclamation:

      "What is this?"

      Harbord stopped beside him. The inspector held the paper towards him.

      "Look at this."

      Harbord looked. The paper appeared to have been torn out of some book. On it had been scrawled over and over again in a bold characteristic writing: "Paula Galbraith Paula Galbraith."

      "What does this mean?" the inspector said, staring at it. "Paula Galbraith. Has Miss Karslake met her before? If it had been the other girl, the American—Mrs. Richard Penn-Moreton—I shouldn't have been surprised. But Paula Galbraith. How could the two have come across one another? Well, that is another question we have to find the answer to."

      "Another?" Harbord repeated, raising his eyebrows.

      "Why did Charmian Karslake come down to Hepton?" the inspector went on. "Not, I think, because she had taken a fancy to Lady Moreton, and the latter sent her an invitation to the dance."

      "You think she had some private reason for wishing to come to the Abbey?"

      The inspector nodded. "As far as I can see it is perfectly obvious that she had. It is our job now to find out what that reason was. Another question that will suggest itself to my mind is, Was Charmian Karslake really an American, or was she an English girl who, making name and fortune in America, had some motive for throwing off her nationality and taking on that of the United States?"

      Harbord looked at him. "What motive could she have had?"

      The inspector shrugged his shoulders. "That we have to find out.

      "That is the box the maid spoke of."

      He pointed to a small morocco case standing on a little table with one or two other belongings of Miss Karslake's.

      "We had better see if the money is intact as far as we can."

      The little lock, which Charmian Karslake probably thought absolutely safe, was soon opened. The inspector felt in his pocket and produced a curious looking little instrument. He applied this to the lock and in a minute the morocco case lay open before him—open, but empty! Of the notes of which Celeste had spoken there was no sign.

      "H'm! what do you make of that?" the inspector said, glancing at his assistant.

      Harbord did not speak for a minute, then he said slowly:

      "I imagine Miss Karslake took them out herself. It is scarcely likely that the murderer spent much time in the room after the crime was committed. Doubtful, too, even if he had possessed himself of Miss Karslake's keys, whether he would have guessed that that little box contained money. And, granted that he did, would he have stopped to open the box? He would have been more likely to put the whole thing into his pocket."

      Stoddart clapped the young man on the back. "Well thought out, Harbord. Now we must 'phone the Bank—the Imperial Counties—and see if they have kept the numbers of the notes. I don't think we shall do very much good by looking further round here. We are more likely to find the clue, without which we are wandering round in a maze, either in one of the other rooms in the Abbey or in Charmian Karslake's flat. At the present moment I feel inclined to put a few questions to Miss Paula Galbraith. But first the Bank—"

      He led the way out of the room and, with a word to the policeman at the door, he and Harbord made their way to the station.

      As they reached the gallery, from which they could see down into the hall, they heard the sound of voices. One was a woman's, low, but tense with feeling:

      "No, I tell you I will not listen."

      Then came a man's:

      "By Heaven, Paula, I will not let you go, you shall explain."

      Stoddart laid his hand sharply on Harbord's shoulder, but quickly as the detectives stopped some sound had evidently betrayed their approach to the two in the gallery. They stopped. The woman came quickly towards the detectives, her golden head uplifted; the man disappeared in the opposite direction. Harbord drew back. Stoddart stepped forward.

      "Miss Galbraith, I believe."

      The girl looked at him, unseeing for a moment, then she started violently as if suddenly waking up.

      "Yes."

      "I am Inspector Stoddart of Scotland Yard," the detective went on.

      Was it a momentary gleam of fear that flashed into the girl's blue eyes?

      "Yes. I knew you were coming to—to—"

      "To investigate the mystery of Miss Karslake's death," the inspector finished. "I should be glad of a few minutes' talk with you."

      The girl frowned. "It would not be of the least use. I could not tell you anything that could possibly help you."

      "You must let me be the judge of that, I think," the inspector said lightly, but with a certain firmness in his tone.

      Miss Galbraith bit her lip. "Will it do in the morning?"

      "I am afraid not. If you will kindly come into the library, which Sir Arthur has placed at our disposal, I shall probably keep you only a very short time."

      The girl hesitated a moment, glancing at him as though wondering whether refusal were possible.

      "Very well," she said at last, with a certain sullenness in her tone, "but it will be time wasted for you."

      "Will you come to the library, then?" The inspector drew back and motioned her to precede them.

      Once more the girl hesitated perceptibly. Then, shrugging her shoulders as though making the best of a bad job, she walked quickly past him and down the stairs. The inspector had some ado to keep pace with her hurrying footsteps as they crossed the hall. But he managed to reach the library door first and held it open for her.

      She frowned as she saw Harbord following him in. "I thought you wished to see me alone?"

      "Mr. Harbord is my trusted assistant," the inspector said quietly, as he set a chair for her. "You may speak quite freely before him."

      "Only, as I told you, I have nothing to say," Miss Galbraith said as she sat down.

      The inspector took the chair at the head of the table and, taking his notebook from his pocket, laid it open before him.

      "Were you acquainted with Miss Karslake before her coming to Hepton?"

      "Not in the least. I had not even seen her on the stage."

      "When did you first see her? I understand that, like her, you came down from town that afternoon."

СКАЧАТЬ