‘Her nerves must be in a shocking state,’ muttered Dover. He addressed the shoes again. ‘Are you all right up there, miss?’
Inside the room MacGregor shuddered fastidiously. The old fool had about as much delicacy and tact as a pregnant water-buffalo.
A mixture of a sniff and a sob came from the roof. ‘I’m going to kill myself,’ Mildred Denny called down. ‘If anybody tries to come near me I shall jump at once.’
And the sooner the better, thought Dover crossly, but he made an effort and spoke in a voice which was meant to be kindly. ‘Why don’t you tell me all about it, eh?’
‘Why should I ?’ retorted Mildred ungraciously.
‘Well, I might be able to help you,’ Dover replied, wheedling away like mad. ‘I’m a very understanding chap.’
‘You don’t belong to the hospital, do you?’ asked Mildred with marked suspicion.
‘No, no!’ Dover assumed an airy tone. ‘I just—er —happened to be passing by and I thought I might be able to help.’
‘You’re a policeman,’ said Mildred flatly.
Dover decided it was time to take a break and ducked back inside the room. ‘She’s rumbled me,’ he announced, mopping his dripping face. ‘And, if you ask me, there’ll soon be no need for her to jump through the pearly gates. If she stops out there much longer she’ll be dead of pneumonia. It’s raining cats and dogs.’
Mr Whitbread sidled forward, wringing his hands. ‘Poor soul, poor soul!’ he intoned. ‘I do wish you’d let me climb there and bring her what consolations I can. Of course,’ — he smiled his martyr’s smile—‘you’ll have to give me a leg up over the sill. My gammy knee, you know. Still got a bit of shrapnel in it from the North African desert.’
Dover, whose standards of personal hygiene were deplorable, sneezed loudly and all over Mr Whitbread. The cleric beat a hasty retreat to the back of the room and began praying vigorously in a less germ-laden atmosphere.
MacGregor pricked up his ears. ‘I think she’s calling, sir.’ Dover sighed and leaned out through the window again. ‘Well?’
‘You oughtn’t to leave me alone,’ said Mildred resentfully. ‘I need help.’
‘You need a damned good smack on the bottom,’ Dover informed her, and meant it.
‘What’ll they do to me?’ whined Mildred.
‘I dunno,’ said Dover. ‘Who?’
‘The police, of course. I’m a murderer, you know.’
‘Oh, yes?’ Dover had heard this sort of stuff a dozen times before and blandly discounted it.
‘It was all my fault,’ whimpered Mildred, ‘but I just couldn’t resist the temptation. It was the chance of a lifetime.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Dover and popped back into the dry again. ‘We’ve got one that wants to talk,’ he groaned to MacGregor. ‘It’s as cold as charity out there. That girl must be damned near freezing. Any chance of a cup of char?’
‘I’ll see to that,’ burbled Mr Whitbread eagerly. ‘You’re a good man, I can see that.’ He beamed at Dover. ‘God grant that your endeavours be crowned with success, if not in this world then in the next.’
Dover turned to MacGregor before plunging out once more through the window. ‘And get rid of him!’ he ordered in an unnecessarily loud voice. Mr Whitbread forgave him with an indulgent smile.
‘All right,’ bawled Dover, and the rain-sodden shoes jumped again, ‘let’s be having it! And just remember I haven’t got all day to spend listening to you rambling on.’
Mildred Denny had obviously been thinking her story over and tried to make it as coherent as possible. ‘I’m private secretary to the director of the laboratory,’ she began.
‘I know that!’ snapped Dover. ‘Get on with it!’
‘Well, these two reports landed on my desk at the same time, you see, for me to type out the letters to the doctors. Well, naturally I read them through. I’d got to type them out, hadn’t I?’ she added defensively. ‘I picked up John’s first— John Perking, that is. Well, naturally, I was interested. John’s an old friend of mine. I knew him very well long before he married and naturally I still take an interest in him. Well, this report said that there was nothing the matter with him. You know— there was no medical reason why he shouldn’t be able to be a father. Well,’ — her voice took on a self-righteous note — ‘I was very glad for him. I know how badly he and Cynthia wanted a child. Anyhow, before I typed out John’s report I thought I’d get the routine confirmations of pregnancies out of the way first. And there, right on the top of the pile, was one for Mrs Cynthia Perking.’ Mildred began to blubber. ‘Well, it was just too much, it really was! She’s always had everything, Cynthia has. It’s always dropped straight into her lap. And now she was even going to have a baby! That’d mean the end of the estrangement with her father and she’d be back living in the lap of luxury just like she was before. Not that I really begrudged her that, but it just wasn’t fair that she should get my money as well.’
MacGregor was tugging at Dover’s coat tails. Dover willingly pulled his head in from outside.
‘The padre’s got the tea, sir.’
Mr Whitbread, smiling all over his face, stepped forward with a large steaming mug of tea in his hands. Dover grabbed it. Mr Whitbread looked worried.
‘How are you going to get it out to the poor girl?’ he asked.
The fatuous question died on his lips as Dover raised the mug and tipped the contents noisily down his throat.
‘Ta, very much,’ said Dover, handing the mug back. ‘I wouldn’t mind the same again since you’ve asked. And you might see if you can get a drop of the hard stuff to lace the next cup with. It’s as cold as Hades out there.’
The rain-sodden shoes were still clinging to the
