He picked up the note again.
“Written in the third person,” he grumbled. “Not a hint what it’s all about. Miles out of the way, his place. Suppose a dustman wrote to us like that, what would you do?”
Payne looked very shocked. Not but that he knew very well what he would do if a dustman had written in such terms. He said:—
“Must be something important, sir. Mr Weston’s a very responsible gentleman. Might be something to do with the war.”
“Well, if it is, why can’t he come here and say so?” demanded Bobby. “I’ll ring him up and ask him what it’s all about,” he decided.
Payne looked alarmed this time. He had a very lively sense of Mr Weston’s position in the scheme of things, and of both the power and the will of that gentleman to make himself unpleasant when so minded. He looked relieved when Bobby failed to get his call through.
“Sure to be a good reason,” Payne repeated. “Mr Weston isn’t the gentleman to waste his own time or other people’s either.”
An hour or so later Bobby tried again, and this time with better success, even though it was only to learn that Mr Weston was out and had not said when he would return. The voice over the ’phone was, however, sure that Mr Weston would be back in time for any appointment he had made. The voice evidently considered that any failure on Mr Weston’s part to keep an appointment he had made was quite inconceivable.
An interesting voice, this he was listening to, Bobby thought. A woman’s voice, a contradictory voice, low and husky and yet clear, decided, compelling even, and yet within it an oddly soft, caressing note as well. It made him think somehow of the purr of a contented cat that might in a moment change to something very different.
The voice belonged, it informed him, to Miss Thomasine Rowe, Mr Weston’s private secretary. Miss Thomasine had no idea what the purpose of the suggested interview might be. But—the husky voice sounded both a little amused and a little shocked—the inspector might be very sure it was important. Mr Weston was not in the habit of making appointments without good reason.
Bobby hung up the receiver and supposed gloomily that he would have to go. No doubt whatever it was all about might be important from the point of view of Mr William Weston, of the Weston West Mills and all the rest of it. But it by no means followed that such importance would appear equally important in the eyes of the police in general or of Inspector Bobby Owen in particular. However, one could not take risks in these days. It might be something in some way affecting public security. It might be something important affecting black-market activities, for instance. Or, for that matter, something affecting even more vital public interests. It would be awkward if it turned out that he had neglected some such opportunity. A policeman soon learns that nothing may be overlooked, since anything may lead anywhere.
But Bobby promised himself that unless the reason was sufficient, Mr William Weston, great man as he might be, would hear quite plainly what one inspector of police at least thought of people who in these days of trial and difficulty put officials to unnecessary trouble.
Published by Dean Street Press 2016
Copyright © 1943 E.R. Punshon
Introduction Copyright © 2016 Curtis Evans
All Rights Reserved
This ebook is published by licence, issued under the UK Orphan Works Licensing Scheme.
First published in 1943 by Victor Gollancz
Cover by DSP
ISBN 978 1 911413 36 3
www.deanstreetpress.co.uk
The Conqueror Inn: A Bobby Owen Mystery Page 27
