minute, mightn't they?'
'Exactly,' said Luke.
For a moment the old lady relapsed into silence. She looked worried. 'I always think it's better to go to the fountain-head,' she said at last. 'John Reed is quite a nice fellow — that's our constable in Wychwood — a very civil-spoken, pleasant man, but I don't feel, you know, that he would be quite the person to deal with anything serious. He's quite used to dealing with people who've drunk too much, or with exceeding the speed limit, or lighting-up time, or people who haven't taken out a dog license, and perhaps with burglary even. But I don't think — I'm quite sure — he isn't the person to deal with murder!'
Luke's eyebrows rose. 'Murder?'
The old lady nodded vigorously. 'Yes, murder. You're surprised, I can see. I was, myself, at first. I really couldn't believe it. I thought I must be imagining things.'
'Are you quite sure you weren't?' Luke asked gently.
'Oh, no.' She shook her head positively. 'I might have been the first time, but not the second, or the third, or the fourth. After that, one knows.'
Luke said, 'Do you mean there have been — er — several murders?'
The quiet, gentle voice replied, 'A good many, I'm afraid.' She went on, 'That's why I thought it would be best to go straight to Scotland Yard and tell them about it. Don't you think that's the best thing to do?'
Luke looked at her thoughtfully, then he said, 'Why, yes, I think you're quite right.'
He thought to himself: 'They'll know how to deal with her. Probably get half a dozen old ladies a week coming in burbling about the amount of murders committed in their nice quiet country villages. There may be a special department for dealing with the old dears.'
He was roused from these meditations by the thin gentle voice continuing, 'You know, I remember reading once — I think it was the Abercrombie case. Of course he'd poisoned quite a lot of people before any suspicion was aroused… What was I saying? Oh, yes, somebody said that there was a look — a special look that he gave anyone, and then, very shortly afterwards, that person would be taken ill. I didn't really believe that when I read about it, but it's true.'
'What's true?'
'The look on a person's face.' Luke stared at her. She was trembling a little and her nice pink cheeks had lost some of their color.
'I saw it first with Amy Gibbs — and she died. And then it was Carter. And Tommy Pierce. But now, yesterday, it was Doctor Humbleby — and he's such a good man — a really good man. Carter, of course, drank, and Tommy Pierce was a dreadfully cheeky, impertinent little boy, and bullied the tiny boys, twisting their arms and pinching them. I didn't feel quite so badly about them, but Doctor Humbleby's different. He must be saved. And the terrible thing is that if I went to him and told him about it, he wouldn't believe me! He'd only laugh! And John Reed wouldn't believe me either. But at Scotland Yard it will be different. Because, naturally, they're used to crime there!'
She glanced out of the window. 'Oh, dear, we shall be in in a minute.' She fussed a little, opening and shutting her bag, collecting her umbrella. 'It's been such a relief talking to you. Most kind of you, I'm sure. So glad you think I'm doing the right thing.'
Luke said kindly, 'I'm sure they'll give you good advice at Scotland Yard.'
'I really am most grateful.' She fumbled in her bag. 'My card — oh dear, I only have one. I must keep that for Scotland Yard.'
'Of course, of course.'
'But my name is Fullerton .'
'Miss Fullerton,' said Luke, smiling. 'My name is Luke Fitzwilliam.' As the train drew into the platform, he added, 'Can I get you a taxi?'
'Oh, no, thank you.' Miss Fullerton seemed quite shocked at the idea. 'I shall take the tube. That will take me to Trafalgar Square , and I shall walk down Whitehall .'
'Well, good luck,' said Luke.
Miss Fullerton shook him warmly by the hand. 'So kind,' she murmured again. 'You know, just at first I thought you didn't believe me.'
Luke had the grace to blush. 'Well,' he said. 'So many murders! Rather hard to do a lot of murders and get away with it, eh?'
Miss Fullerton shook her head. She said earnestly, 'No, no, my dear boy, that's where you're wrong. It's very easy to kill, so long as no one suspects you. And, you see, the person in question is just the last person anyone would suspect.'
'Well, anyway, good luck,' said Luke.
Miss Fullerton was swallowed up in the crowd. He himself went off in search of his luggage, thinking as he did so: 'Just a little bit batty? No, I don't think so. A vivid imagination, that's all. Hope they let her down lightly. Rather an old dear.'
Chapter 2
Jimmy Lorrimer was one of Luke's oldest friends. As a matter of course, Luke stayed with Jimmy as soon as he got to London . It was with Jimmy that he sailed forth on the evening of his arrival in search of amusement.
It was Jimmy's coffee that he drank with an aching head the morning after, and it was Jimmy's voice that went unanswered while he read, twice over, a small, insignificant paragraph in the morning paper.
'Sorry, Jimmy,' he said, coming to himself with a start.
'What were you absorbed in — the political situation?'
Luke grinned. 'No fear. No, it's rather queer. Old pussy I traveled up with in the train yesterday got run over.'
'Probably trusted to a Belisha Beacon,' said Jimmy. 'How do you know it's her?'
'Of course, it mayn't be. But it's the same name — Fullerton . She was knocked down and killed by a car as she was crossing Whitehall . The car didn't stop.'
'Whoever was driving that car will pay for it. Bring in manslaughter as likely as not. I tell you I'm scared stiff of driving a car nowadays.'
'What have you got at present in the way of a car?'
'Ford V-8. I tell you, my boy –'
The conversation became severely mechanical.
It was over a week later that Luke, carelessly scanning the front page of the Times, gave a sudden startled exclamation: 'Well, I'm damned!'
Jimmy Lorrimer looked up. 'What's the matter?'
Luke raised his head and looked at his friend. His expression was so peculiar that Jimmy was quite taken aback. 'What's up, Luke? You look as though you'd seen a ghost.'
For a minute or two, the other did not reply. He dropped the paper, strode to the window and back again. Jimmy watched him with increasing surprise. Luke dropped into a chair and leaned forward. 'Jimmy, old son, do you remember my mentioning an old lady I traveled up to town with the day I arrived in England?'
'The one you said reminded you of your Aunt Mildred? And then she got run over by a car?'
'That's the one. Listen, Jimmy. The old girl came out with a long rigmarole of how she was going up to Scotland Yard to tell them about a lot of murders. There was a murderer loose in her village, that's what it amounted to, and he'd been doing some pretty rapid execution.'
'You didn't tell me she was batty,' said Jimmy.
'I didn't think she was off her head. She was quite circumstantial; mentioned one or two victims by name, and then explained that what had really rattled her was the fact that she knew who the next victim was going to be.'
'Yes?' said Jimmy encouragingly.
