A POCKET FULL OF RYE

one of those food faddists who’ll eat any

mortal thing so long as it isn’t cooked. My

sister’s husband’s like that. Raw carrots, raw

peas, raw turnips. But even he doesn’t eat

75

raw grain. Why, I should say it would swell

up in your inside something awful.”

The telephone rang and on a nod from the

Inspector, Sergeant Hay sprinted off to

answer it. Following him, Neele found that it

was headquarters on the line. Contact had

been made with Mr. Percival Fortescue, who

was returning to London immediately.

As the Inspector replaced the telephone, a

car drew up at the front door. Crump went to

the door and opened it. The woman who

stood there had her arms full of parcels.

Crump took them from her.

“Thanks, Crump. Pay the taxi, will you?

I’ll have tea now. Is Mrs. Fortescue or Miss

Elaine in?”

The butler hesitated, looking back over his

shoulder.

“We’ve had bad news, m’arn,” he said.

“About the master.”

“About Mr. Fortescue?”

Neele came forward. Crump said: “This is

Mrs. Percival, sir.”

“What is it? What’s happened? An

accident?”

The Inspector looked her over as he

replied. Mrs. Percival Fortescue was a plump

woman with a discontented mouth. Her age

76

he judged to be about thirty. Her questions

came with a kind of eagerness. The thought

flashed across his mind that she must be very

bored.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that Mr.

Fortescue was taken to St. Jude’s Hospital

this morning seriously ill and has since died.”

“Died? You mean he’s dead?” The news

was clearly even more sensational than she

had hoped for. “Dear me–this is a surprise.

My husband’s away. You’ll have to get in

touch with him. He’s in the North somewhere.

I dare say they’ll know at the office.

He’ll have to see to everything. Things

always happen at the most awkward moment, don’t they.”

She paused for a moment, turning things

over in her mind.

“It all depends, I suppose,” she said, “where they’ll have the funeral. Down here, I

suppose. Or will it be in London?”

“That will be for the family to say.”

“Of course. I only just wondered.” For the

first time she took direct cognisance of the

man who was speaking to her.

“Are you from the office?” she asked.

“You’re not a doctor, are you?”

77

“I’m a police officer. Mr. Fortescue’s death

was very sudden and——”

She interrupted him.

“Do you mean he was murdered?”

It was the first time that word had been

spoken. Neele surveyed her eager questioning

face carefully.

“Now why should you think that,

madam?”

“Well, people are sometimes. You said

sudden. And you’re police. Have you seen

her about it? What did she say?”

“I don’t quite understand to whom you are

referring?”

“Adele, of course. I always told Val his

father was crazy to go marrying a woman

years younger than himself. There’s no fool

like an old fool. Besotted about that awful

creature, he was. And now look what comes

of it. … A nice mess we’re all in. Pictures in

the paper and reporters coming round.”

She paused, obviously visualising the

future in a series of crude highly-coloured

pictures. He thought that the prospect was

still not wholly unpleasing. She turned back

to him.

“What was it? Arsenic?”

In a repressive voice Inspector Neele said:

78

“The cause of death has yet to be

ascertained. There will be an autopsy and an

inquest.”

“But you know already, don’t you? Or you

wouldn’t come down here.”

There was a sudden shrewdness in her

plump rather foolish face.

“You’ve been asking about what he ate and

drank, I suppose? Dinner last night.

Breakfast this morning. And all the drinks, of

course.”

He could see her mind ranging vividly over

all the possibilities. He said, with caution:

“It seems possible that Mr. Fortescue’s

illness resulted from something he ate at

breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” She seemed surprised.

“That’s difficult. I don’t see how . . .”

She paused and shook her head.

“I don’t see how she could have done it,

then . . . unless she slipped something into

the coffee—when Elaine and I weren’t

looking . . . .”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *