Tom Brown's Body

pest of himself,' he said. Mr Wyck was too loyal a Headmaster to concur verbally in this opinion of a member of his Staff, but his sympathies were with Gavin. 'Oh, well,' the latter concluded, 'now for Mrs Poundbury.'

As soon as the meeting of the governors was over and they had been fed and cossetted by Mrs Wyck, and had been seen off by Mr Wyck, Mrs Bradley had gone to see Mrs Pound-bury. She got rid of the nurse, looked at the patient's temperature chart, and then got down to business, for it had been agreed that she should question Mrs Poundbury first, and Gavin's more formal interview should come afterwards.

Mrs Poundbury's story was that she did not know who had struck her down, and that she had not seen the second idol. Mrs Bradley appeared to accept these statements, and returned to the subject of the note.

'Oh, that wretched note! I'm sick to death of it!' said the invalid. 'Why must you drag it up again?' Mrs Bradley did not trouble to answer this question.

'You say you had it in your possession up to the time you were attacked?' she said. Mrs Poundbury was emphatically certain that she had. 'Think carefully, then,' said Mrs Bradley. 'Who else, except for myself and little Ingpen, could have known that it had been found, and that you had it?'

'No one but Gilbert. I told him about it and showed it to him.'

'What did he say?'

'He was rather angry. He said that I ought not to have taken any notice of it when I received it, or else that I ought to have shown it to him then. He said that I could think myself lucky that I had not been charged with Gerald's death.'

'He knew that you had kept the assignation?'

'Yes, he did know that – well, I think he knew.'

'From whom did the note purport to come?'

'From Gerald, but it was typed and not signed. I knew it was from him, though, because he had put our secret mark on it.'

'Yes?'

'It was a tiny design which you can make on the typewriter by using an open bracket, two colons and a closed bracket, like this (::). It means I hold you in my heart. I used to put it in my letters to him, too. All this, of course, was before we broke it off, but when I saw this sign on the note, 1 knew where it came from.'

'I see,' said Mrs Bradley. 'And you kept the appointment when and where?' Something in her tone caused the patient to say quickly:

'Don't you believe what I'm saying?'

'Finish saying it, and I will answer that question,' Mrs Bradley replied.

'Oh, well, you see –' She watched, fascinated, as Mrs Bradley drew out a small note-book and began to flick back the pages.

'Yes?' said Mrs Bradley, unscrewing the top of her pen.

'Well,' said Mrs Poundbury, 'you remember taking me to the cottage – Gilbert's – no, I mean, Gerald's cottage?'

'After we had picked the Brussels sprouts? – I do.'

'And you remember you tried to trick me by pulling up outside the wrong cottage?'

'Yes.'

'And the trick came off,' said Mrs Poundbury, without bitterness. 'Well, I met – I mean, I expected to meet Gerald there that night. Of course, he wasn't there.'

'No, he wasn't there. At what time did you arrive?'

'I – well, let me see! Oh, at about ten, I should think.'

'How did you get in?'

'I had a key. Each of us had a key – Gerald and I, I mean. We each had one. Oh, dear!'

'Where is your key now?'

'I threw it away as soon as I knew of Gerald's death.'

'Where?'

'I – I don't remember.'

'Mrs Poundbury, you've had a nasty knock on the head and I don't want to say anything which might distress you, but this I do say: tell me the truth. Believe me, you have nothing to lose, and your husband, whom I believe you love, may have everything to gain.'

'I am the best judge of that,' said Mrs Poundbury. 'But, if you want to find the key, you had better look in the river. Exactly where I threw it in I have not the faintest idea. I was terribly upset by Gerald's death, and I was terribly afraid that Gilbert might have done it, so my first thought was to –'

'Are you sure that the key is not in your husband's possession?'

Mrs Poundbury looked thoroughly alarmed by this question, and there was a pause whilst she thought it over.

'I – I am sure Gilbert hasn't a key,' she feebly replied.

'I am sure you are right,' Mrs Bradley cordially agreed. 'All right, Mrs Poundbury. By the way, you do realize, don't you, that far from shielding your husband by telling me that you kept the appointment, you are exposing him to very great danger?'

Mrs Poundbury lay back and closed her eyes.

'You ought not to come here and bully me,' she said feebly.

'My dear girl!' said Mrs Bradley sadly. 'I know perfectly well who committed the murder. If you really love your husband, do not expose him to suspicion.'

Upon this sinister note they parted, and, Gavin also having failed to impress her with the danger of manufacturing information, she was given a few hours to get back to normal and improve upon her story before he resumed the interview.

'While I'm giving her the time to cook up some more lies, I think I'll have a go at Kay again,' he said. 'He's still at his cottage. He and his wife have nowhere to go for Christmas, I understand, so they're staying put, and are having an old aunt, or someone, to stay.'

*

Mr Kay was no more delighted to see the police than he had been the first time he encountered them. Grudgingly he invited Gavin in, and, even more grudgingly, offered him a chair.

'I'll sit at the table, if I may,' said Gavin, easily and pleasantly. 'I can write better there.'

'I'm not going to make a statement,' said Kay flatly, 'so you can begin by writing that.'

'There's no question of a statement,' said Gavin. 'I just want a little help from you, that's all.'

Mr Kay, with a very rude remark, implied that the police could go elsewhere for help.

'Look here,' said Gavin, 'I know how you feel, of course, but I've got my job to do and my job is to clear up this business of Mr Conway's death. If you won't answer any more questions, you won't, and you'll be within your rights, but I don't mind telling you that you're still pretty high on the list of suspects. We know you hated Conway and we know why. We know you were out of your cottage that night, and we know where you were and approximately when, and we know all about old Mother Harries and her spells. So what about it?'

'So what about what?' said Kay offensively. 'I'll tell you what I told the other nosey parkers. You can get to hell out of here, and do your dirty job yourself. You'll get no help of any kind from me. If you think I killed that poisonous swine, well, go ahead and prove it. But you'll have your work cut out. As for the witch, I was doing folk- lore research, as you know.'

'Did your wife keep an assignation with Conway that night?' asked Gavin, without moving from where he sat. Kay half-rose, but then sat down again. To Gavin's surprise he pulled out, filled, and lighted a pipe before he answered the question. Then he said composedly:

'How the hell should I know? She doesn't go shouting that sort of thing all over the place. People don't. She keeps her own counsel, the same as I keep mine. And to save your breath and the strain on your intellect, I might as well anticipate your next question: I don't know where Brenda went or what she did, because she was away from home on holiday, and I'd gone out to see a man about a dog. Does that satisfy you?'

'Of course it doesn't,' said Gavin. 'Look here, Kay, be a sensible chap and come across with what you know. Give me the dope, and stop hedging. You know I'm not accusing you of having murdered Conway.'