The Curious Affair of the Third Dog
Page 23
“That was the day they kidnapped you?” Emmy said.
“The same. The day of ‘Griselda’s’ first win. I visited Pennington for the first and only time that day—I’m ashamed to say that up to then I hadn’t considered the possibility that he might be the missing link I was looking for. Stupidly, I imagined that he’d been taken to Gorsemere by Weatherby to provide a nice, innocent, unimpeachable witness. Of course, it was the other way around. Similarly, I was thinking that Lady Griselda—the slow runner—was to be substituted for Marlene’s Fancy, the champion. I had it all backwards.
“The moment he saw me, Pennington knew he’d have to act fast to keep ahead of me. He knew from Amanda that I was staying in Gorsemere, but this was his first inkling that I was on the warpath. He must have called Bates the moment I left him, to set up the reception committee at Gorsemere station.
“No,” said Jane, suddenly.
Henry looked at her, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it must have been Amanda he called—in the first place, anyhow. I had quite forgotten, she came here that afternoon, walking Wotan, but it never occurred to me that she was fishing for information. She worked the conversation around to you, and I told her that you were in London and expected back for supper. Come to think of it, she actually offered to meet you at the station, but I said I didn’t know which train you’d be on, and that you’d be walking back here.”
“So that’s how Bates knew exactly where and when to find me,” said Henry. “He only had to wait in the station car park until I arrived.”
“I thought you said Bates had a girl with him,” Emmy said. “Was that Marlene?”
“No. Not a girl. Bates took young Tommy along to help lug the body around—which was the first time Tommy realized just what he was mixed up in. Well, you know the rest. It was a nice touch of Pennington’s to tell Bates to dump me in Smith’s garden shed. That way, even if Smith were released on bail—which in fact happened—he wouldn’t stay free for long once I’d been found. And if he wasn’t released, the chances were I wouldn’t be found—at least, not alive. Heads I win, tails you lose.
“As it was, mercifully, the Hawthorn–Rundle-Webster team turned up trumps again, and I was found. That was why we had to go through the charade at the hospital—my only hope of catching Pennington was to make him think I hadn’t been able to tell anybody what I knew. I reckoned he’d think it worth the risk of disposing of Amanda and the Bertini woman, as well as cleaning up financially. After that—with any luck I’d die quietly, and still incommunicado. If not, all this would have been virtually impossible to prove. I had to be there at the stadium, I had to catch him red-handed and in his ridiculous transvestite getup. It meant taking a fearful risk with Amanda’s safety, even though Sergeant Reynolds and I were never more than a few paces away from her. Well…that’s it, and I’m glad it’s over.”
There was a silence, and then Emmy said, “And they really will let Harry Heathfield go home again?”
“I’m sure of it,” said Henry.
“Because,” said Emmy, “I was going to say…that is, if Ginger needs a home just for a few weeks…till Harry comes back…I’m sure we could always…”
“NO!” said Henry.
As it turned out, Ginger quite enjoyed his ten days in the Tibbetts’ Chelsea apartment, but even Emmy was forced to agree that he was happier in the country, and his reunion with Harry Heathfield was extremely touching.
EPILOGUE
IT WAS A chilly evening in October, and Paul Claverton had lit the big log fire in the Saloon Bar of the White Bull. The crackling flames leapt merrily in the hearth, flickering over the venerable polished tables and glinting off the horse-brasses. In his usual inglenook, Harry Heathfield sat, deeply content, with a pint of mild and bitter in his hand. At his feet, Lady Griselda, Ginger, and Tess slumbered peacefully, making a sort of beige, brown, and black fur rug.
Across the table from Heathfield sat a young fresh-faced man and a pretty, auburn-haired girl. They were strangers in these parts, as they freely admitted. Had just driven down from London and seen this awfully attractive-looking old pub…
Lady Griselda stirred in her sleep, and Harry said, “I see you’re admiring my greyhound bitch.”
“Er…yes. That’s right,” said the young man hastily.
“Lady Griselda of Gorsemere. That’s her name. Very fine runner in her day. Of course, I don’t race her anymore now. Just keep her as a pet, like.”
“You mean—you used to race her?” The girl was impressed. “That must have been exciting.”
“Ah, well…we owners, you know…we take it all in our stride.” Harry glanced quickly around the bar. Mr. and Mrs. Spence were over in the corner, but they had been hunted down relentlessly by the Reverend Mr. Thacker, who was now haranguing them, probably about the church roof. They could not possibly hear. “Of course,” Harry went on, “it’s always a thrill if your dog wins.”
“Oh, it must be!”
“Yes…I keep a few cuttings…just as a memento of the old days…happen I might have one here…” Harry fumbled in his pocket. “Yes, funnily enough. Here’s one.” He unfolded a grubby, much handled page from a cheap sporting paper and indicated a paragraph with a stubby forefinger.
“See? There. Where it says ‘Surprise Win for Outsider’… see? ‘…romped home in the 1:30 race to beat the 2-to-l favorite… The surprise winner was Mr. Henry Heathfield’s Lady Griselda, trained by Mrs. Bella Yateley.” Harry looked fondly at the paper. ‘Yes,” he said, reminiscently, “that was a thrill. That was a day I’ll always remember…thank you very much, sir, a pint of mild and bitter…yes, up in the Midlands it was…all the excitement of the crowds…the bookies shouting the odds…nobody thought Griselda had a chance, but I knew better…”
Lady Griselda opened one eye, looked at Harry, and closed it again in a long, slow wink.
For more “Inspector Tibbett” and other “Vintage” titles from Felony & Mayhem Press, including the “Inspector Alleyn” series by Ngaio Marsh, please visit our website:
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All the characters and events portrayed in this work are fictitious.
THE CURIOUS AFFAIR OF THE THIRD DOG
A Felony & Mayhem “Vintage” mystery
PUBLISHING HISTORY
First UK print edition (Collins): 1973
First US print edition (Holt, Rinehart & Winston): 1973
Felony & Mayhem print and digital editions: 2018
Copyright © The Estate of Patricia Moyes 1973
All rights reserved
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63194-176-4
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Moyes, Patricia, author.
Title: The curious affair of the third dog / Patricia Moyes.
Description: New York : Felony & Mayhem Press, 2018. | “A Felony & Mayhem mystery.”
Identifiers: LCCN 2018033128| ISBN 9781631941542 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781631941764 (ebook)
Subjects: | GSAFD: Mystery fiction.
Classification: LCC PR6063.O9 C8 2018 | DDC 823/.914--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018033128