‘And who,’ demanded Dover as he heaved himself resignedly out of the car, ‘who is Georgie?’
Colonel Bing’s shout of delighted laughter echoed loudly round the country-side. ‘You’re a witty old devil!’ she bellowed. ‘Why, Georgie’s Miss McLintock!’
‘ ’Strewth!’ muttered Dover sourly, and clumped heavily after her into the little lodge.
Inside the house, which really was remarkably small and unbelievably cluttered up with bits and pieces of furniture, Colonel Bing seemed to grow in stature. Her voice, which had been loud outdoors, now battered unpleasantly on the ear-drums. In reality she was only of medium height and had a no more than well-covered matronly figure, befitting her maturing years. Her hair was iron grey and cropped quite short. She was wearing a drab green woolly twinset and a pleated tartan skirt. On her legs she had a pair of sensible, ribbed lisle stockings and her feet were shod in a pair of highly-polished brogues which looked stout enough to kick the heart out of a highlander.
‘Come along, you chaps!’ she rallied them. ‘Squat yourselves down and take a load off your minds!’
Dover, lumbering clumsily across the threshold of the sitting- room, stumbled slightly as he caught his foot in a small rug. He lurched forward, his hand automatically stretched out to help regain his balance, just as Colonel Bing bent down to release the poodle. Dover saw the straining expanse of Hunting Stewart, but not in time.
Colonel Bing straightened up smartly and cut through the chief inspector’s muttered apologies.
‘Just watch it, old chap!’ she warned him grimly. ‘Just watch it!’
Dover backed nervously away as far as he could, which was not more than three inches, and collapsed heavily into a chair. Colonel Bing, keeping a wary eye on Dover in case his bestial instincts got the better of him again, sat down too, and this left just enough room for Sergeant MacGregor to squeeze in. With his knees almost touching those of Colonel Bing, he managed to drag out his notebook and pencil and waited, hardly daring to breathe, for the revelations to begin.
‘Right,’ said Colonel Bing, ‘everybody settled? Well, I’ll kick off, shall I? Now, as I understand it, this is as far as you chaps have got: you know Juliet Rugg left the Counters’ house after lunch on Tuesday and then went down to the village to see her mother. Right? And then you know she caught the three-fifteen bus into Creedon. Right? But after that it’s a complete blank.’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ objected Dover in a half-hearted attempt to regain control of the situation, ‘we’ve barely started our investigations.’
‘My source of intelligence’ – Colonel Bing crushed him without mercy – ‘is Police Constable Robson, on whose report your briefing was based this morning. The police, so far, have not traced that girl’s movements after the bus dropped her in Creedon.’
Colonel Bing’s emphatic statement of the facts brooked no argument, and Dover didn’t attempt any.
‘AH right,’ he said sulkily, ‘I suppose you saw her later than that?’
‘Indeed I did! Very much later! I saw her just before eleven o’clock on the Tuesday night!’
Dover sat up slightly. ‘You did, did you? Where was this?’
‘I’m telling this in my own way,’ said Colonel Bing flatly. She nodded to Sergeant MacGregor. ‘You take this down, young man, and stop me if I go too fast for you. Right?
‘Well, Georgie, that’s Miss McLintock – m, small c, capital l, t, n, t, o, c,k- got it? – Georgie and I went across on Tuesday evening to play bridge with the Freels – f, r, e, e, l, s. They’re a brother and sister, Amy and Basil – you can spell those all right, can you? -a brother and sister who live in the first house next to the lodge opposite. We arrived at about half-past seven and got back here at a quarter to, or maybe ten to eleven. Now, I’d had to leave the hell-hound here by himself because the Freels have got a cat, and naturally the poor brute wanted a breath of fresh air and a walk round the garden before heading for the pit. Georgie went in to make the cocoa and I stood outside with Peregrine, that’s the dog, while he had a sniff around. He’s rather a highly-strung beast and he doesn’t like being out by himself after dark.
‘Well, while we were both outside there in the garden, a car drew up at the entrance gates. They’re closed at nights, you know, because we’ve had a lot of trouble with courting couples driving in to do their snogging off the main road – damned disgusting but you know what they’re like these days. Well, naturally, having nothing else to look at, really, I moved across to the hedge and had a squint at the car. After a minute or two the passenger door opened and this girl, Juliet Rugg, got out, I expect you’ve had a description of her so you’ll know she was a pretty unmistakable figure. Disgustingly overweight for a girl of her age, but far too lazy and stupid to do anything about it! Anyhow, I could see quite clearly because the car had stopped directly under the lamp. She was giggling, as usual, and exchanged a bit of repartee, which I didn’t catch, thank God, with whoever was driving the car.
‘Then she went through the small gate in the big gates, which is always unlocked, and started walking up the drive in the direction of the Counters’ house.
‘Well, by now Peregrine had done what he was supposed to do and wanted to
