Richard was clutching something that didn’t belong to him as he ran. The young woman called out again and began to hurry after them—and then Richard caught his toe in a ridge between paving stones, and crashed down. There was a moment of breathless silence, followed by a piercing howl. Sloan stopped as the woman hurried past him. She was small, big-breasted, with long, dark hair and a pale face; and her skirts were short. Richard howled wildly. Sloan looked out of the car and saw Scoopy, the elder boy, standing and watching in wide-eyed alarm; and he said:
“It wasn’t my fault, Richard took it.”
The woman said: “You’re a bad boy, Scoopy.”
Richard howled.
Sloan got out of the car and said: “Let me give him a ride, that’ll make him forget it.”
“No, he’s cut his knee,” said the woman, helping Richard up. His face had gone beetroot red, and he opened his mouth wide as he howled. The woman had dark eyes— and a way with children. She picked Richard up, and began to carry him towards the West’s house. “Scoopy, walk nicely behind me. What your mother will say, I don’t know.”
Scoopy defended himself. “Richard took it.”
Richard still had it; a small musical box, the shape of a drum, clutched in his right hand.
They trooped towards the house.
Normally, Janet West’s ears were so sharp that she would have heard that outcry and rushed to see what had caused it. She may have heard it, but hadn’t rushed. Sloan drove oh, and reached the house just in front of the little group. Scoopy took notice of him for the first time, and his big, broad face lit up.
“It’s Mr. Sloan!”
“Hallo, Scoop. What’s all the trouble about?”
“Richard wouldn’t let me have my musical box.” Scoopy knew an ally when he saw one. “It is mine. Daddy bought it for me before he went away.”
“He
The woman, Grace, put him down. His knee was bleeding freely, and blood gathered at the top of his sock. She bundled both of the boys inside; Sloan followed—and saw Janet coming down the stairs. She didn’t notice him. He stood and watched her, hating the lifelessness in her eyes and face and the dullness of her voice.
“Now what have you been up to?”
“Scoopy——” began Richard.
“Richard——” began Scoopy.
“I’ll look after them, Mrs. West, it only wants a wash and a bandage. Don’t worry.” Grace smiled; she had a charming smile which lit up the whole of her face with a lightness that was almost radiance, and made her look a different woman. None of the radiance touched Janet. She stood aside, and Sloan studied her more closely.
She had often been through difficult, dangerous times, known heart-ache and desperate anxiety when Roger was on a tough assignment; but Sloan had never seen her despairing. Her expression made her look years older —drawn lines at her eyes and mouth spoiled her looks. The eyes which had so readily glowed with cheerfulness were dull. She hadn’t let herself go completely; she was tidily dressed, in a dark-grey frock, and her hair was brushed; she wore it up, Edwardian fashion.
She saw Sloan.
“Bill!” Hope blazed in her eyes—hope without foundation, hope just at seeing him. But it faded swiftly; and she closed her eyes and stood quite still as he went in.
“Hallo, Janet. How are you?”
“I’m all right,” she said. “Come in.” She led the way into the front room—the sitting-room. It was full of Roger; why not? It belonged to Roger. His chair, his pipes, his-
Janet sat down and waved to a chair, then got up.
“Will you have a drink?”
“No, thanks, it’s a bit early.”
“There isn’t any news, is there?”
“No,” said Sloan. “Not news—not hard news, Jan. But I’ve something to tell you that I hope will help a bit.”
She became rigid.
“There’s a line on the Copse Cottage job which we hadn’t found before,” he said. “It may lead to nothing, but at least , it means that Chatworth has agreed that I should spend more time on it. I had a chat with him to-day. He’s prepared to back me up, and although he didn’t say so, he’s with me in believing that the whole business is a grotesque mistake.”
“He hasn’t told me that,” said Janet.
“He won’t, unless he gets hold of something that looks like real evidence. I don’t know that I should tell you this, but at least it’s something to hold on to. I can put some official time into it, now.”
She smiled faintly. “You’ve been wonderful, Bill. You and Mark, I don’t know what I’d have done without you.
