‘Is this official business?’ he asked. ‘I don’t want to disturb her.’

‘Call it that if you like,’ Travers returned. ‘I want to see her.’

Calvin stood aside.

‘Come in. I’ll tell her.’

Travers walked past Calvin into the lounge. He watched Calvin go upstairs. Travers moved around the room impatiently. There was a long delay, then Calvin came down the stairs.

‘She’s coming. She’s powdering her nose.’ He moved into the lounge and made to sit down.

‘This is a personal thing,’ Travers said curtly. ‘I want to see Mrs. Loring alone.’

Calvin raised his eyebrows.

‘Of course. I wasn’t thinking.’ He moved to the door. ‘Kit isn’t in very good form. Be careful how you handle her.’ Nodding, he went out of the room.

Travers continued to wait. After some minutes, he heard slow hesitant steps coming down the stairs, then Kit appeared in the doorway. He could see at once that she had been drinking. She had also been crying. Her face was white and puffy. Her eyes glittered. She faced him.

‘Well? What is it?’ she demanded, her voice loud and harsh.

‘It’s about Iris,’ Travers said. ‘Something’s upset her pretty badly. Can you tell me what it is?’

‘If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,’ Kit said, peering at him as if she had trouble in focusing. ‘I don’t want you here. If you want to know what’s upset her… ask her.’

‘Did you know she is going away?’ Travers asked patiently. ‘She’s broken off our engagement. I want to know why. I think you can tell me.’

Kit’s lips twisted into a sneer.

‘Why shouldn’t she go away? What’s her future if she stays in this one-horse hole? I’m glad she’s going. I’m glad she has had the sense to break off with you. She’s young enough and pretty enough to hook a rich husband: not a small-time cop like you!’

‘Okay,’ Travers said evenly. He had to make an effort to control his temper. ‘You must have talked her into this. Well, I now know where I stand. For her sake, I hope she does hook a rich husband if that’s what she wants.’

Kit stared at him, her brown eyes hating him, then she turned and moved unsteadily out of the room. Just as she reached the doorway, she lurched and had to steady herself by grabbing hold of the door.

Travers watched her. She moved on into the hall and as she started up the stairs, she again lurched. Travers felt a sudden cold rush of blood up his spine. Into his mind flashed a picture of Alice Craig, wearing that awful coat and the floppy hat concealing her face as she had come out of the bank on the night of the robbery. She too had torched in exactly the same way as this woman had lurched. Then he had thought she had been ill, but now in a sudden intuitive flash he realised that he hadn’t been watching Alice Craig. The woman he thought was Alice, had been Kit, wearing Alice’s clothes. It had been Kit who had come out of the bank that night and that meant it was Kit who had helped Calvin steal the payroll! It had been Kit who had helped Calvin murder Alice!

Travers felt suddenly sick. Kit! Iris’s mother!

Watching him through the crack in the door, Calvin saw by Travers’s expression, he had guessed at the truth. He drew back. A few moments later, Travers came out and walked to the front door. Calvin watched him go.

His sweat-moist hand rested on the butt of the gun in his hip pocket. He wondered what Travers would do.

2

It was after eight-thirty when Travers who had been sitting in his car at the bottom of the road for the past half hour, saw Iris coming towards him in Kit’s car.

He jumped out and stood in the middle of the road, waving. Iris pulled up. Travers came up to her.

‘We’ve got to talk,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave my car here. Let’s go up to Perch Lane. We can talk there.’

‘I don’t think I want to talk to you,’ Iris said, not looking at him. ‘I’m sorry, Ken. Talking will get us nowhere now.’

‘Oh yes, it will,’ Travers said and walking around to the offside door, he got in beside her. ‘Let’s go.’

Iris hesitated, then made a U-turn and drove back to the highway. Neither of them said anything until they had reached the tap of Perch Lane, a favourite meeting-place of theirs. It was dark now. The lights of Pittsville twinkled at them from a distance as they sat side by side.

Вы читаете I Would Rather Stay Poor
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату