THE CRIME AT TATTENHAM CORNER (Murder Mystery Classic). Annie Haynes
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Название: THE CRIME AT TATTENHAM CORNER (Murder Mystery Classic)
Автор: Annie Haynes
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 9788075832542
isbn:
She caught the echo of a voice in the hall. It sounded like that of her sister Clare—Mrs. Aubrey Dolphin. She was going with them to the races, of course, but She listened again. Another moment Clare came quickly into the room. With a word to the manservant she closed the door behind her. One look at her face told Lady Burslem that the supreme moment for which she had been waiting was here at last.
Clare came swiftly across the room and caught her sister in her arms.
"Sophie, darling, I bring you terrible news. You must be brave, dear, for all our sakes."
Sophie tried to free herself from the encircling arms. "What is it?" she questioned hoarsely. "Not Dad!"
Mrs. Dolphin would not let her go.
"No, no, my darling. It is John—"
"John—"
If there had been one drop of colour left in Sophie's face it was all drained away now.
"Ill," came slowly from between her stiffening lips. "Ill, Clare, not—not—"
"Ah, dearest, he would want you to be brave for his sake. He—he met with a terrible accident last night, Sophie, dear. And, you see, he was not quite a young man, he could not rally—"
"Why did they not send for me?" Sophie gasped.
"Dear, there was not time. He—he died before they could do anything!"
"He died—John died—"
This time all Mrs. Dolphin's strength could not hold her sister up. A dead weight, Lady Burslem sank through her arms and collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Meanwhile from all parts of England a great crowd was making its way to Epsom. It was the people's holiday and the people were bent on making the most of it. All night long, gipsies and parties of nomads had picnicked near the course. This morning the tipsters were busy. For threepence you could learn the winner of every race. Not of the Derby itself. Nobody wanted a tip for that! It was Peep o' Day's Derby. Had not owner and trainer and jockey all agreed that Peep o' Day could not lose the Derby?
Peep o' Day! Peep o' Day! You heard it on all sides. Peep o' Day, the most popular favourite since the war! Peep o' Day! the crowd exulted.
And over by Peep o' Day's box his trainer, Matt Harker, was standing with bowed shoulders, and Howard Williams leaning up against the door would not have been ashamed to confess that there were tears in his eyes. Champion jockey though he was, he had never yet ridden a Derby winner; Matt Harker, though all the other classics had been taken by his stable, had never yet trained a Derby winner! All of them had been confident that today their ambitions would be realized.
And now Peep o' Day was scratched for the Derby!
Chapter III
The inquest on the body of Sir John Burslem had been opened at the Crown Inn at Hughlin's village, but only formal evidence of identity and medical evidence had been taken, and it had been adjourned until the following week, so that the police might have time for further inquiry. Stoddart and Harbord came out last. Stoddart's brows were drawn together in a heavy frown. Looking at him, his assistant felt sure that the case was troubling him more than he would have cared to confess. Somewhat curtly he declined the local superintendent's offer of hospitality, and motioned! Harbord into the run-about.
He did not speak until they had left Hughlin's Wood far behind, and were rapidly nearing London. Then he tossed an envelope over to Harbord.
"Think that can throw any light on the mystery?" Harbord opened the envelope and took out the contents. They consisted of various cuttings from newspapers. He read the first:
"Burslem, Sir John, first baronet, born 18—, eldest son of John Victor Burslem; married first Emma, daughter of Robert Somerville, by whom he had issue one daughter—Pamela Mary; married secondly the Honourable Sophie Charlotte Ann, younger daughter of the fourth Viscount Carlford. Residences: Greystone Hall, Meadshire, and 15 Porthwick Square. Clubs: Carlton Junior; Arts; St. James's."
Harbord put this back in the envelope and took out the smaller one; this was marked "From the Morning Herald":
"A marriage has been arranged, and will shortly take place between Captain Charles Stanyard, second son of Sir William Stanyard of Wilton Hall, and Sophie Charlotte Ann, youngest daughter of Viscount Carlford."
Clipped with this was another:
"The marriage arranged between Captain Charles Stanyard and Miss Sophie Carlford will not take place."
As Harbord put these back in the envelope he saw that there was yet one more. He picked it out: "A marriage has been arranged between Sir John Burslem, the well-known financier and racehorse owner, and the Honourable Sophie Charlotte Ann Carlford, younger daughter of Viscount Carlford. The marriage will take place early next month at St. Margaret's Westminster."
Harbord put it with the other and gave them to Stoddart.
The inspector looked at him. "You read a story there?"
"Yes and no," Harbord said slowly. "You don't mean—"
"I mean nothing, I think nothing," the inspector interrupted him. "How often am I to tell you that. It is my business to look for facts and to find them. Did you hear what won the Derby yesterday?"
Used as he was to the rapid workings of his superior's mind, Harbord looked his surprise at this change of subject.
"I don't take much interest in racing, sir, except that I have been hearing of nothing but Peep o' Day since we came here yesterday. But I did hear last night—yes, wasn't this Derby won by Perlyon, the second favourite. I thought I heard folks say he would not have stood a chance against Peep o' Day had he run."
"That's as it may be," the inspector observed sententiously. "I have known these hot-pots run nowhere more than once. But do you know who owns Perlyon?"
Harbord shook his head. "Haven't the slightest idea."
The inspector looked at him. "Sir Charles Stanyard, Captain Charles Stanyard—the sporting baronet, they call him. He came into the title on his father's death last year. His elder brother was killed a few months before in the hunting-field."
Neither of the men spoke again for a few minutes; at last Harbord said:
"Peep o' Day's scratching must have meant a good deal to him. But—"
"Thousands," said the inspector laconically. "Heard there was a row between two men at Wilton's the other night?"
"No. I was hard at work at the Barber-Astley case," Harbord answered, his interest growing.
"Well, there was a jolly row," Stoddart informed him. "And the two men who had it were Sir John Burslem and Sir Charles Stanyard, the sporting baronet. Ostensibly the quarrel was over the merits of their respective racehorses—Peep o' Day and Perlyon. In reality, rumour has whispered that the cause СКАЧАТЬ