The Greatest Murder Mysteries - Dorothy Fielding Collection. Dorothy Fielding

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СКАЧАТЬ a good thing, too," Haviland thought. Barbara paused for a moment.

      "I—I was afraid he might think it unwise—what I am going to say."

      Pointer thought this highly likely. Only tell the police what they already know, was Dorset Steele's motto. Barbara drew a deep breath. She went paler yet.

      "Mr. Tangye is supposed to've been in town until after six. At least so my grandfather tells me—"

      The two officials nodded.

      "Yet I saw him coming out of Riverview's side gate, the tradesman's gate, just a few minutes after the churches around struck half past five."

      "Where exactly were you?"

      "I was at the corner before you get to the house, coming up from the river. It's a place where some hollies hang far over the road."

      "What did Mr. Tangye do?"

      "He opened the gate very carefully, and very slowly, and closed it, after standing as though listening for a second, very quickly behind him. Then he jumped into his car, and was off. I don't think he saw me."

      "Was the engine running?"

      "I think so."

      "Had he anything in his hand?"

      "Yes; a package of some sort."

      Pointer nodded towards some shelves.

      "Could you pick out a book of about the size of the package you saw in his hand?"

      Barbara picked up an A.B.C. and a Continental Bradshaw. She thought that the box in Tangye's hand was about the thickness of the latter and the general size of the former. Could it have been a camera? Pointer asked. Barbara thought that it looked not unlike a large box-camera.

      "He came out so oddly. So noiselessly," she repeated, "He opened the gate without making a sound. And he looked up and down the garden path before closing it."

      "He looked towards the house?"

      Barbara nodded. There was a short silence.

      "And you yourself, Miss Ash, how did you come to be so close to Riverview?"

      "Oh, I merely happened to be passing," she said awkwardly. "You can go to our house from the Richmond links either around by Riverview or through the Deer Park."

      Pointer sat quite still. His eyes on his pen point for once. He had not expected this. He really had thought this girl a fine, honest, creature. Was she too to come within the circle of those tainted suspects of his? Oh, the pity of it!

      Barbara spoke again. Impulsively, in a rush. This time in her natural voice. A voice that suggested all things young, and frank, and fair. "I—I take that back. I mean, that wasn't truthful," she broke off in great distress.

      Pointer came to her aid.

      "You're trying to tell us, aren't you," he said very kindly, "that you were the visitor whom the maid mistook for Mrs. Cranburn? At least that's what we've thought for some time."

      Pointer had at least suspected as much since his visit to her father. Barbara fitted in with so many points of the case. Florence might easily have mistaken a bundled-up figure for that of a stout woman. And the voice of a girl with a cold for a wheezy voice. Barbara looked both relieved, and a little appalled.

      "I'm glad you know," she said quietly, "I would have spoken at once only I was afraid—after you detained Mr. Vardon, that you might think there was some connection—on his part I mean, because it was me. Florence didn't recognise me. She had only seen me once."

      So Barbara, too, thought that Vardon might be guilty. Or else she would have come forward at once. Her explanation held good for the time since Vardon was under police observation, but from the first she must have suspected him.

      "You were calling on Mrs. Tangye?" Pointer asked pleasantly. "I think you can depend on us, Miss Ash, not to misunderstand."

      Wilmot, who had dropped in to ask a question of Haviland, took a seat after a glance of permission from Barbara.

      "Just a friendly call, I suppose?" Wilmot asked.

      "No," she sat with her eyes on her gloved hands, obviously suffering. "No; not quite that. Not unfriendly, of course. I wanted to see if I couldn't get Mrs. Tangye to do something for Mr. Vardon. After that talk on the links," she glanced at Pointer, "I, too, was rather stirred up, and wondered whether she, a comparatively wealthy woman, might not be induced to give Mr. Vardon at least a hearing. He has a perfectly sound proposition to lay before any one. But she wouldn't let him even tell her of it."

      "Had you ever broached the subject with Mrs. Tangye before?" Pointer asked.

      "Never. But I telephoned Sunday afternoon and asked if I might come in early about three on Monday afternoon as there was something I wanted to talk over with her. She said that she would be at her dressmaker's at that hour. I suggested the next day, Tuesday, about five. She said that would suit her excellently, especially if I would come to tea. On Monday evening she rang me up to put off my coming indefinitely, saying she would write and make another appointment, but I was out, and the maid forgot to give me her message; so I went on Tuesday, expecting to see her."

      "Do you remember just what she told the maid Monday evening over the 'phone?"

      "Norton says that Mrs. Tangye said, 'Ask Miss Barbara not to come to-morrow as we arranged. I have a most urgent engagement that I can't put off. Tell her I'm so sorry. I'll write and explain.' But, as I say, the message wasn't given me until Tuesday night when Norton read of Mrs. Tangye's death in the evening papers. Meantime I started rather late for Riverview from Hampton Court Palace, where a relative lives." She gave the name. "I was driving our car myself; something went wrong. It's always leaving you in the lurch when you want to bustle along. There's a good garage not far from Riverview, you have to pass the house coming from Hampton Court." She gave its address. "That's when I saw Mr. Tangye leaving by the side gate. I went on to the garage and had a long wait there until some one came to whom I cared to hand over the car. Then I hurried on to Riverview, though it was nearly six. As I came to the tradesmen's gate I found Mr. Tangye had left it open. It cuts off a corner of the little drive, so I took it too. I walked around the clump of laurels this side of the morning-room to look in. I wondered if Mrs. Tangye had given me up. But through the curtains I saw that the light was on, and hurried back around to the front door. As I stepped away the curtain was pulled aside for a second, and some one—a woman—peered out between them. Perhaps she heard me on the path."

      Barbara paused for half a second.

      "It was Miss Saunders—I suppose," she added slowly. "Why suppose?" Wilmot asked.

      "It was the most dreadful face I've ever seen," the girl said in a low voice. "The face of a ghoul. Malignant. Horrible. Gloating." She shuddered as it seemed to rise again before her.

      "Did she see you?"

      Barbara shook her head.

      "She was looking in the opposite direction, after one glance around. As though after Mr. Tangye. I only saw her for a second. I hurried to the front door and rang the bell. You know what happened then."

      "What made you choose the morning-room?" Pointer asked. СКАЧАТЬ