Murder Gone Mad
Page 23
Lost … Doesn’t know where she is … Father doesn’t know where she is … Just a small bit of human flotsam …
Now she was squarely in the doorway. Crouched by the fire was her visitor staring with vacant, childlike eyes into the far corner, holding in her hands Miss Finch’s ebony ruler, one of its ivory ends between her lips. Miss Finch’s left hand holding the dumpy umbrella went behind her back. Miss Finch came brightly into the room. She spoke in a light, clear voice. She went near to her guest. She said:
‘Your cocoa won’t be a minute, my poor little girl. It’s just on the boil. Stand up now and let’s see what we can do about your wet clothes.’
The eyes of the waif fixed their gaze upon her face. Slowly the small figure rose to its feet, gripping the ruler. ‘All right, missus,’ said a thin, high voice.
They stood facing each other and the yellow blaze from the electric lamp showed each the other’s face.
Suddenly the waif backed. A little choked cry came from her. She took one step back, then two more; then more, in a stumbling run which fetched her with a bang against the table of Miss Finch’s assistant editor. The huge eyes roved wildly this way and that to the door; to the window; to the great skylight above her head.
‘What’s the matter, dear?’ said Miss Finch, coming forward slowly.
The eyes of the waif were wide and staring and the waif’s mouth opened and a scream came from it.
Miss Finch came nearer. ‘What’s the matter, dear?’ she said.
Lost … doesn’t know where she is … Father doesn’t know where she is … Just a little bit of human flotsam …
Miss Finch was now very near. Again, with her eyes fixed upon Miss Finch, the waif screamed. Miss Finch’s left hand came from behind her back. Her right hand clasped the handle of her dwarf umbrella. Her two hands came apart … The umbrella, without the handle, fell to the floor with a soft clatter, but in Miss Finch’s right hand there was a thin something which gleamed blue in the yellow light …
Miss Finch drew in her breath with a little bubbling hiss. She moved her right hand.
Miss Finch’s visitor raised, with a wild, ineffectual gesture, the ebony ruler.
Miss Finch laughed …
With a sound which, in that small quiet room, was like the rending of heaven itself, the glass and frame of the skylight smashed inwards. From six feet above her, something dark and huge and heavy fell beside Miss Finch and clutched at her …
Miss Finch rolled upon the floor …
Outside there came another, different crash and the tinkling of more broken glass … and heavy running footsteps along the boarded passage.
The waif collapsed upon the table. The ebony ruler fell from her hands to the floor hitting the grey carpet with a little thud …
There was a scuffling going on upon the floor.
The doorway suddenly framed two men, so that, with the man who rolled upon the floor with Miss Finch, there were three men now here.
The two newcomers bent over the struggling heap, but before they could put their hands on it, there was a click and a jingle and Pike got to his feet. There was a long bleeding scratch running down from the corner of his left eye to his jaw. His eyes were bright and fierce, but his mouth was wide in a smile of triumph.
On the Persian rug before the gas fire, Miss Finch struggled, despite the handcuffs, until she sat. Her eyes seemed to have changed colour; they were wide and staring. Her mouth worked but no sound came from it … Her face was no longer chalk-white, but was duskily flushed.
Pike went forward. Behind him, the two men moved close. Pike stooped. He tapped his prisoner upon the shoulder. He began to murmur to her cautionary words …
The woman’s face remained expressionless … Her mouth went on working …
Pike came to the end of his rigmarole and then, even as he began to straighten himself, she flung back her head and spat into his face.
III
Two cars pulled up outside the headquarters of the County Police in St. Raglands. The hands of the clock over the town hall stood at one forty-five. The passengers of the two cars made a little procession which wound quick way through the swing doors. The uniformed sergeant saluted. Pike smiled at him.
‘Get my message to Sir Gerald?’ he said.
The sergeant saluted again. ‘Yes, sir. He’s in there waiting. If you’ll follow me …’ They followed him.
He threw open a door and the procession filed in. There was the Chief Constable and there, too, were Farrow, smiling all over his prizefighter’s face, and Davis, looking like a glum fox.
The Chief Constable came to Pike, holding out his hand.
Pike shook it.
‘My God!’ said the Chief Constable and could get out no more words. He looked over Pike’s shoulder at those who had followed Pike. ‘But where is … where is she?’ he said.
Pike looked round too. ‘Just outside the door. She’s not a pleasant sight.’
The Chief Constable once more looked over Pike’s shoulder. He saw Curtis whom he knew and Blaine whom he knew, but in between Blaine and Curtis was a small and shivering waif. The Chief Constable looked at Pike in bewilderment. ‘Who’s this?’ he said.
Pike’s smile grew wider yet. He turned to the waif. He said:
‘You must pardon me. May I introduce Sir Gerald Mainwaring, the Chief Constable of the County … Sir Gerald, this is Miss Barbara Fairley. I don’t know whether you go to the theatre much, Sir Gerald, but you’re sure to have heard …’
The Chief Constable was staring until his eyes seemed in danger of leaving his head. ‘Not,’ he said, ‘not Dinah in The Golden Cup?’
‘Quite right!’ said the waif, and then, looking from one escort to the other, ‘For God’s sake has anybody got a gasper?’
THE END
Footnote
CHAPTER VIII
* It should be noted that although this chapter is an extract there are no germane points whatsoever omitted. The only omissions are of purely routine and, in this context, unnecessary detail. For instance, plans of patrol placing and details of patrol scheme quoted by Pike as being attached to the document are among the omissions.
THE DETECTIVE STORY CLUB
LIST OF TITLES
THE MAYFAIR MYSTERY • FRANK RICHARDSON
THE PERFECT CRIME • ISRAEL ZANGWILL
CALLED BACK • HUGH CONWAY
THE MYSTERY OF THE SKELETON KEY • BERNARD CAPES
THE GRELL MYSTERY • FRANK FROËST
DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE • R. L. STEVENSON
THE RASP • PHILIP MACDONALD
THE HOUSE OPPOSITE • J. JEFFERSON FARJEON
THE PONSON CASE • FREEMAN WILLS CROFTS
THE TERROR • EDGAR WALLACE
THE MYSTERY AT STOWE • VERNON LODER
THE BLACKMAILERS • ÉMILE GABORIAU
THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD • AGATHA CHRISTIE
THE CRIME CLUB • FRANK FROËST & GEORGE DILNOT
THE NOOSE • PHILIP MACDONALD
THE LEAVENWORTH CASE • ANNA K. GREEN
THE CASK • FREEMAN WILLS CROFTS
DARK DAYS • HUGH CONWAY
THE BIG FOUR • AGATHA CHRISTIE
THE MAZE • PHILIP MACDONALD
THE CONJURE-MAN DIES • RUDOLPH FISHER
FURTHER TITLES IN PREPARATION
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