I was torn between following the coach and approaching Larry immediately. As the thing rumbled off, I realized that I could not contain myself, foolishly perhaps, for I can only speak with Jack between midnight and one o’clock. I raced up to him.
“Who was that lady?” I asked.
He smiled.
“Hello, Snuff. How are you?” he said.
I repeated my question, hoping that his canine spirit granted comprehension around the clock.
“A delightful lady,” he replied. “Name’s Linda Enderby. Widow of an India officer who’d died in the Mutiny. She and her servant recently moved into an old manse she’s restored near here. The city’s grown a bit dear for her, and far too busy. She was just paying a social call, wanting to meet some of the neighbors. And she shares my passion for botany. We had a lively discussion of dicotyledons.”
“Oh,” I said, ordering my thoughts. “I was watching the Gipsies when she arrived. I guess I assume everything involves the Game these days.”
“Well, I guess they do, somehow,” he said. “Gipsies and I go way back.”
“I’ve heard the Count is sometimes associated with them.”
“There’s that, too,” he said. “The whole matter will have to be explored, soon.”
“I was concerned about your welfare,” I said, truthfully.
“False alarm, Snuff,” he said. “She’s an intelligent and very personable lady. Would you care to come in? I have a beef stew you might…”
“No, thanks,” I replied. “I’ve some errands I should be about. Thanks again for your help, the other night.”
He smiled.
“No trouble, really. We’ll talk again,” he said, turning back toward his house.
“Yes.”
I walked back slowly, thinking. I had caught their scents as I’d watched, and I knew Linda Enderby and her servant to be the Great Detective and his companion.
Leaves blew by, and I caught one in my teeth, spat it out again. The pace was quickening.
As I was approaching my home, there came a soft “Meow” from the field across the way.
“Gray?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. I wanted to talk to you.”
“What a coincidence,” she said.
I turned and entered the field. She was standing on the spot where the body had first been located.
“What about?” I asked her.
“I’ve decided not to play games with you. ‘Ding, dong, dell,’ as MacCab said.”
“Oh. Well. . . .”
“What I thought you should know is that when the vicar was out with the searchers, this was the first place he brought them.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. He had to know that the body was here. He wanted them to find it, wanted them to focus their investigation on Jack.”
“How interesting.”
“. . . And how else would he know unless he’d left it here, or been party to it? Snuff, the vicar’s behind it.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I told her where the Gipsies were. She’d already seen them go by. So I told her, too, that we’d a new neighbor named Linda Enderby, who’d been by to visit Larry.
“Yes, I’ve met her,” she said. “She was also by to visit the mistress earlier. Charmed her completely. They share an interest in herbs and gourmet cooking.”
“Jill’s a gourmet cook?”
“Yes. Come by later, and I’ll see that you get some choice selections.”
“I’d like to do that. In fact, I’d like to collect you later, anyway. I want your help on an investigation.”
“Of what?”
I had to tell her the truth if I wanted her help. So I told her of my conclusions on the hilltop, there in my ring of pissed-on stones, and of the day’s adventures with Quicklime, of his speculations on the Gipsies, of the other things I’d learned about the vicar, and of my conclusions concerning the manse. I told her everything, except that the Great Detective had come to town and had set up housekeeping in that place, and that I could talk to Larry Talbot and get an answer anytime.
“I found a broken basement window when I was prowling the other night,” I continued, “big enough for a cat to slip through easily.”
“. . . And you want me to go inside and see whether there’s a chapel?”