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22 - Unnatural Death by Dorothy L. Sayers · Unnatural Death

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Speaker 1: Chapter twenty two of Unnatural Death by Dorothy Sayers. This
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Speaker 1: LibriVox recording is in the public domain. A case of conscience.
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Speaker 1: I know thou art religious, and hast a thing within
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Speaker 1: THEE called conscience, with twenty popish tricks and ceremonies which
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Speaker 1: I have seen THEE carefully to observe. Titus Andronicus. Thursday,
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Speaker 1: June twenty third was the eve of Saint John, the sober,
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Speaker 1: green workaday dress, in which the church settles down to
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Speaker 1: her daily duties. After the bridal raptures of Pentecost had
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Speaker 1: been put away, and the altar was white and shining
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Speaker 1: once again. Vespers were over in the lady chapel at
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Speaker 1: Saint Anissimus. A faint reek of incense hung cloudily under
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Speaker 1: the dim beams of the room. A very short acolyte
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Speaker 1: with a very long brass extinguisher snuffed out the candles,
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Speaker 1: adding the faintly unpleasant yet sanctified odor of hot wax.
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Speaker 1: The small congregation of elderly ladies rose up, lingeringly from
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Speaker 1: their devotions and slipped away in a series of deep genuflexions.
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Speaker 1: Miss Clemson gathered up a quantity of little manuals and
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Speaker 1: groped for her gloves. In so doing, she dropped her
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Speaker 1: office book. It fell annoyingly behind the long kneeler, scattering
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Speaker 1: as it went a small pentecostal shower of Easter cards, bookmarkers,
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Speaker 1: sacred pictures, dried palms, and ave marias into the dark
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Speaker 1: corner behind the confessional. Miss Clemson gave a little exclamation
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Speaker 1: of wrath as she dived after them, and immediately repented
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Speaker 1: this improper outburst of anger in a sacred place. Discipline,
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Speaker 1: she murmured, retrieving the last lost sheep from under a
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Speaker 1: hassock discipline, I must learn self control. She crammed the
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Speaker 1: papers back into the office book, grasped her gloves and
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Speaker 1: hand bag, bowed to the sanctuary, dropped her bag, picked
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Speaker 1: it up, this time in a kind of glow of martyrdom,
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Speaker 1: bustled down the aisle and across the church to the
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Speaker 1: south door, where the sacristan stood, key in hand waiting
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Speaker 1: to let her out. As she went, she glanced up
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Speaker 1: at the high altar, unlit and lonely, with the tall
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Speaker 1: candles like faint ghosts in the twilight of the apse.
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Speaker 1: It had a grim and awful look, she thought. Suddenly,
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Speaker 1: cold night, mister Staniforth, She said quickly, good night, Miss Clemson,
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Speaker 1: good night. She was glad to come out of the
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Speaker 1: shadowy porch into the green glow of the June evening.
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Speaker 1: She had felt a menace? Was it the thought of
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Speaker 1: the stern Baptist, with his call to repentance, the prayer
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Speaker 1: for grace to speak the truth and boldly rebuke vice.
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Speaker 1: Miss Clemson decided that she would hurry home and read
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Speaker 1: the Epistle and Gospel curiously tender and comfortable for the
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Speaker 1: festival of that harsh and uncompromising Saint. And I can't
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Speaker 1: tidy up these cards. At the same time, she thought
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Speaker 1: Missus Budge's first floor front seemed stuffy. After the scented
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Speaker 1: loveliness of the walk home. Miss Clemson flung the window
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Speaker 1: open and sat down by it to rearrange her sanctified oddments.
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Speaker 1: The card of the Last Supper went in at the
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Speaker 1: prayer of Consecration. The Fra Angelico Annunciation had strayed out
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Speaker 1: of the office for March twenty fifth and was wandering
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Speaker 1: among the Sundays after Trinity. The Sacred Heart, with its
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Speaker 1: French text, belonged to the Corpus Christie. The dear me,
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Speaker 1: said Miss Clemson, I must have picked this up in church.
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Speaker 1: Certainly the little sheet of paper was not in her writing.
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Speaker 1: Somebody must have dropped it. It was natural to look
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Speaker 1: and see whether it was anything of importance. Miss Clemson
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Speaker 1: was one of those people who say I am not
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Speaker 1: the kind of person who reads other people's postcards. This
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Speaker 1: is clear notice to all and sundry that they are
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Speaker 1: precisely that kind of person. They are not untruthful. The
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Speaker 1: delusion is real to them. It is merely that p
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Speaker 1: evidence has provided them with a warning rattle like that
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Speaker 1: of the rattlesnake. After that, if you are so foolish
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Speaker 1: as to leave your correspondence in their way, it is
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Speaker 1: your own affair. Miss Clemson perused the paper. In the
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Speaker 1: manuals for self examination issued to the Catholic minded, there
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Speaker 1: is often included an unwise little paragraph which speaks volumes
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Speaker 1: for the innocent, unworldliness of the compilers. You are advised,
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Speaker 1: when preparing for confession, to make a little list of
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Speaker 1: your misdeeds, lest one or two peccadillos should slip your mind.
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Speaker 1: It is true that you are cautioned against writing down
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Speaker 1: the names of other people or showing your list to
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Speaker 1: your friends, or leaving it about. But accidents may happen,
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Speaker 1: and it may be that this recording of sins is
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Speaker 1: contrary to the mind of the Church, who bids you
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Speaker 1: whisper them with fleeting breath into the ear of a priest,
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Speaker 1: and bids him, in the same moment that he absolves
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Speaker 1: forget them, as though they had never been spoken. At
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Speaker 1: any rate, somebody had been recently shriven of the sins
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Speaker 1: set forth upon the paper, probably the previous Saturday, and
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Speaker 1: the document had fluttered down unnoticed, between the confession box
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Speaker 1: and the hassock, escaping the eye of the cleaner. And
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Speaker 1: here it was the tale that should have been told
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Speaker 1: to none but God, lying open upon missus Budge's round
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Speaker 1: mahogany table, under the eye of a fellow mortal, to
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Speaker 1: do Miss Clemson justice. She would probably have destroyed it instantly, unread,
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Speaker 1: if one sentence had not caught her eye, the lies
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Speaker 1: I told for m You's sake. At the same moment
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Speaker 1: she realized that this was via Findlater's handwriting, and it
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Speaker 1: came over her like a flash. As she explained it afterwards,
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Speaker 1: exactly what the implication of the words was for a
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Speaker 1: full half hour. Miss Clemson sat alone, struggling with her conscience.
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Speaker 1: Her natural inquisitiveness said, read. Her religious training said you
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Speaker 1: must not read. Her sense of duty to whimsy who
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Speaker 1: employed her, said find out. Her own sense of decency
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Speaker 1: said do no such thing. A dreadful, harsh voice muttered gratingly,
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Speaker 1: murder is the question? Are you going to be an
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Speaker 1: accomplice to murder? She felt like Launcelot Gogo between conscience
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Speaker 1: and the fiend? But which was the fiend? And which
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Speaker 1: was conscious? To speak the truth and boldly rebuke vice? Murder?
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Speaker 1: There was a real possibility now, But was it a possibility?
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Speaker 1: Perhaps she had read into the sentence more than it
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Speaker 1: would bear. In that case, was it not almost a
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Speaker 1: duty to read further and free her mind from this
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Speaker 1: horrible suspicion? She would have liked to go to mister
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Speaker 1: Treadgold and ask his advice. Probably he would tell her
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Speaker 1: to burn the paper promptly and drive suspicion out of
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Speaker 1: her mind with prayer and fasting. She got up and
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Speaker 1: began searching for the match box. It would be better
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Speaker 1: to get rid of the thing quickly. What exactly was
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Speaker 1: she about to do to destroy the clue to the
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Speaker 1: discovery of a murder. Whenever she thought of the word,
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Speaker 1: it wrote itself upon her brain in large capitals, heavily
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Speaker 1: underlined murder like a police bill. Then she had an idea.
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Speaker 1: Parker was a policeman, and probably also he had no
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Speaker 1: particular feelings about the sacred secrecy of the confessional. He
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Speaker 1: had a Protestant appearance, or possibly he thought nothing of
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Speaker 1: religion one way or the other. In any case, he
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Speaker 1: would put his professional duty before everything. Why not send
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Speaker 1: him the paper without reading it, briefly explaining how she
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Speaker 1: had come upon it, then the responsibility would be his
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Speaker 1: on consideration. However, Miss Clemson's innate honesty scouted this scheme
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Speaker 1: as Jesuitical secrecy was violated by this open publication as
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Speaker 1: much as if she had read the thing, or more so.
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Speaker 1: The old Adam too raised his head at this point,
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Speaker 1: suggesting that if anybody was going to see the confession,
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Speaker 1: she might just as well satisfy her own reasonable curiosity. Besides,
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Speaker 1: suppose she was quite mistaken. After all, the lies might
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Speaker 1: have nothing to do with Mary Whittaker's alibi. In that case,
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Speaker 1: she would have betrayed another person's secret. Wantonly and to
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Speaker 1: no purpose. If she did decide to show it, she
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Speaker 1: was bound to read it first, in justice to all
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Speaker 1: parties concerned. Perhaps if she just glanced at another word
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Speaker 1: or two, she would see that it had nothing to
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Speaker 1: do with murder, and then she could destroy it and
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Speaker 1: forget it. She knew that if she destroyed it on read,
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Speaker 1: she never would forget it. To the end of her life.
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Speaker 1: She would always carry with her that grim suspicion. She
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Speaker 1: would think of Mary Whittaker as perhaps a murderess. When
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Speaker 1: she looked into those hard blue eyes, she would be
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Speaker 1: wondering what sort of expression they had when the soul
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Speaker 1: behind them was plotting murder. Of course, the suspicions had
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Speaker 1: been there before, planted by whimsy, but now they were
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Speaker 1: her own suspicions. They crystallized became real to her. What
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Speaker 1: shall I do? She gave a quick, shamefaced glance at
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Speaker 1: the paper again. This time she saw the word London.
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Speaker 1: Miss Clemson gave a kind of little gasp, like a
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Speaker 1: person stepping under a cold shower bath. Well, said Miss Clemson,
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Speaker 1: if this is a sin, I am going to do it,
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Speaker 1: and may I be forgiven? With a red flush creeping
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Speaker 1: over her cheeks, as though she were stripping something naked.
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Speaker 1: She turned her attention to the paper. The jottings were
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Speaker 1: brief and ambiguous. Parker might not have made much of them,
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Speaker 1: but to Miss Clemson, trained in this kind of devotional shorthand,
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Speaker 1: the story was clear as print. Jealousy. The word was
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Speaker 1: written large and underlined. Then there was a reference to
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Speaker 1: a quarrel, to wicked accusations and angry words, and to
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Speaker 1: a preoccupation coming between the penitent's soul and god idle,
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Speaker 1: and a long dash From these few fossil bones, Miss
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Speaker 1: Clemson had little difficulty in reconstructing one of those hateful
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Speaker 1: and passionate scenes of slighted jealousy with which a woman
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Speaker 1: ridden life had made her only too familiar. I do
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Speaker 1: everything for you. You don't care a bit for me.
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Speaker 1: You treat me cruelly. You're simply sick of me. That's
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Speaker 1: what it is. And don't be so ridiculous. Really, I
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Speaker 1: can't stand this, Oh stop it vera. I hate being
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Speaker 1: slobbered over, humiliating, degrading, exhausting, beastly scenes, girls, school, boarding house, Bloomsbury,
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Speaker 1: flat scenes, damnable selfishness, wearying of its victim, silly schvell, mariy,
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Speaker 1: swamping all decent self respect, barren quarrels ending in shame
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Speaker 1: and hatred. Beastly blood sucking woman, said Miss Clemson viciously.
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Speaker 1: It's too bad she's only made use of the girl.
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Speaker 1: But the self examiner was now troubled with a more
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Speaker 1: difficult problem piecing the hints together. Miss Clemson sorted it
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Speaker 1: out with practiced ease. Lies had been told that was wrong,
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Speaker 1: even though done to help a friend. Bad confessions had
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Speaker 1: been made suppressing those lies. This ought to be confessed
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Speaker 1: and put right. But the girl asked herself had she
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Speaker 1: come to this conclusion out of hatred of the lies
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Speaker 1: or out of spite against the friend? Difficult, this searching
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Speaker 1: of the heart and ought. She not content with confessing
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Speaker 1: the lies to the priest, also to tell the truth
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Speaker 1: to the world. Miss Clemson had here no doubt what
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Speaker 1: the priest's ruling would be. You need not go out
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Speaker 1: of your way to betray your friend's confidence. Keep silent
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Speaker 1: if you you can, But if you speak, you must
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Speaker 1: speak the truth. You must tell your friend that she
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Speaker 1: is not to expect any more lying from you. She
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Speaker 1: is entitled to ask for secrecy. No more so far
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Speaker 1: so good that there was a further problem, ought I
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Speaker 1: to connive at her doing what is wrong? And then
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Speaker 1: a sort of explanatory aside the man in South Audley Street.
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Speaker 1: This was a little mysterious. No. On the contrary, it
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Speaker 1: explained the whole mystery, jealousy, quarrel and all in those
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Speaker 1: weeks of April and May, when Mary Whittaker had been
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Speaker 1: supposed to be all the time in Kent with Vera.
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Speaker 1: Fit later she had been going up to London, and
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Speaker 1: Vera had promised to say that Mary was with her
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Speaker 1: the whole time, and the visits to London had to
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Speaker 1: do with a man in South Audley Street, and there
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Speaker 1: was something sinful about it that probably meant a love affair.
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Speaker 1: Miss Clemson pursed her lips virtuously, but she was more
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Speaker 1: surprised than shocked Mary Whittaker. She would never have suspected
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Speaker 1: it of her somehow, But it so explained the jealousy
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Speaker 1: and the quarrel, the sense of desertion. But how had
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Speaker 1: Vera found out? Had Mary Whittaker confided in her No,
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Speaker 1: that sentence again under the heading jealousy, what was it
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Speaker 1: following m W to London? She had followed then and seen,
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Speaker 1: and then at some moment she had burst out with
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Speaker 1: her knowledge reproached her friend. Yet this expedition to London
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Speaker 1: must have happened before her own come conversation with Vera findlater,
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Speaker 1: and the girl had then seemed so sure of Mary's affection,
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Speaker 1: or had it been that she was trying to persuade
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Speaker 1: herself with determined self deception, that there was nothing in
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Speaker 1: this business about the man. Probably, and probably some brutality
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Speaker 1: of Mary's had brought all the miserable suspicions boiling to
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Speaker 1: the surface, vocal, reproachful and furious. And so they had
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Speaker 1: gone on to the row and the break. Queer thought
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Speaker 1: Miss Clemson that Vera has never come and told me
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Speaker 1: about her trouble. But perhaps she is ashamed, poor child.
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Speaker 1: I haven't seen her for nearly a week. I think
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Speaker 1: I'll call and see her, and perhaps she'll tell me
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Speaker 1: all about it, in which case, cried Miss Clemson's conscience,
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Speaker 1: suddenly emerging with a bright and beaming smile from under
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Speaker 1: the buffets of the enemy. In which case I shall
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Speaker 1: know the whole history of it legitimately, and can quite
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Speaker 1: honorably tell Lord Peter about it. The next day, which
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Speaker 1: was Friday. She woke, however, with an unpleasant ache in
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Speaker 1: the conscience. The paper still tucked into the office book
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Speaker 1: worried her. She went round early to Via Findlater's house,
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Speaker 1: only to hear that she was staying with Miss Whittaker.
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Speaker 1: Then I suppose they've made it up, she said. She
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Speaker 1: did not want to see Mary Whittaker, whether her secret
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Speaker 1: was murder or mere immorality, but she was tormented by
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Speaker 1: the desire to clear up the matter of the alibi
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Speaker 1: for Lord Peter. In Wellington Avenue, she was told that
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Speaker 1: the two girls had gone away on the Monday and
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Speaker 1: had not yet returned. She tried to reassure the maid,
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Speaker 1: but her own heart misgave her without any real reason.
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Speaker 1: She was uneasy. She went round to the church and
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Speaker 1: said her prayers, but her mind was not on what
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Speaker 1: she was saying. On an impulse, she caught mister Treadgold
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Speaker 1: as he pottered in and out of the sacristy and
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Speaker 1: asked if she might come the next evening to lay
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Speaker 1: a case of conscience before him. So far, so good,
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Speaker 1: and she felt that a good walk might help to
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Speaker 1: clear the cobwebs from her brain. So she started off,
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Speaker 1: missing Lord Peter by a quarter of an hour, and
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Speaker 1: took the train to Guildford, and then walked and had
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Speaker 1: lunch in a wayside tea shop, and walked back into Guildford,
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Speaker 1: and so came home, where she learnt that mister Parker
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Speaker 1: and ever so many gentlemen had been asking for her
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Speaker 1: all day. And what a dreadful thing, Miss here was
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Speaker 1: Miss Whittaker and Miss Findlader disappeared, and the police out
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Speaker 1: looking for them, and them motor cars was such dangerous things, miss,
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Speaker 1: wasn't they? It was to be hoped there wasn't an accident.
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Speaker 1: And into Miss Clemson's mind there came like an inspiration,
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Speaker 1: the words south Audley Street. Miss Clemson did not, of course,
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Speaker 1: know that Whimsey was at Crow's Beach. She hoped to
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Speaker 1: find him in town, for she was seized with a
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Speaker 1: desire which she could hardly have explained even to herself,
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Speaker 1: to go and look at South Audley Street. What she
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Speaker 1: was supposed to do when she got there she did
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Speaker 1: not know, but go there she must. It was the
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Speaker 1: old reluctance to make open use of that confession paper
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Speaker 1: via Findlater's story at first hand, that was the idea
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Speaker 1: to which she obscurely clung. So she took the first
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Speaker 1: train to Waterloo, leaving behind her in case Whimsy or
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Speaker 1: Parker should call again a letter so obscure and mysterious,
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Speaker 1: and so lavishly underlined and interlined, that it was perhaps
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Speaker 1: fortunate for their reason that they were never faced with it.
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Speaker 1: In Piccadilly, she saw Bunter and learned that his lordship
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Speaker 1: was at Crow's Beach with mister Parker, where he Bunter
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Speaker 1: was just off to join him. Miss Clempson promptly charged
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Speaker 1: him with a message to his employer slightly more involved
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Speaker 1: and mysterious than her letter, and departed for South Audley Street.
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Speaker 1: It was only when she was walking up it that
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Speaker 1: she realized how vague her quest was, and how little
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Speaker 1: investigation one can do by merely walking along a street. Also,
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Speaker 1: it suddenly occurred to her that if Miss Whittaker was
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Speaker 1: carrying on anything of a secret nature in South Audley Street,
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Speaker 1: the sight of an acquaintance patrolling the pavement would put
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Speaker 1: her on her guard. Much struck by this reflection, Miss
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Speaker 1: Clemson plunged abruptly into a chemist's shop and bought a toothbrush.
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Speaker 1: By way of concealing her movements and gaining time. One
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Speaker 1: can while away many minutes comparing the shapes, sizes, and
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Speaker 1: bristles of toothbrushes, and sometimes chemists will be nice and gossipy.
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Speaker 1: Looking round the shop for inspiration, Miss Clemson observed a
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Speaker 1: tin of nasal snuff labeled with the chemist's own name.
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Speaker 1: I will take a tin of that, too, please, she said,
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Speaker 1: What excellent stuff. It is quite wonderful. I have used
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Speaker 1: it for years, and I am really delighted with it.
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Speaker 1: I recommend it to all my friends, particularly for hay fever.
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Speaker 1: In fact, there's a friend of mine who often passes
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Speaker 1: your shop, who told me only yesterday what a martyr
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Speaker 1: she was to that complaint, My dear, I said to her,
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Speaker 1: you have only to get a tin of this splendid
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Speaker 1: stuff and you will be quite all right all summer.
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Speaker 1: She was so grateful to me for telling her about it.
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Speaker 1: Has she been in for it yet? And she described
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Speaker 1: Mary Whittaker closely. It will be noticed by the way
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Speaker 1: that in the struggle between Miss Clemson's conscience and what
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Speaker 1: Willkie Collins calls detective fever, conscience was getting the worst
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Speaker 1: of it and was winking at an amount of deliberate
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Speaker 1: untruth which a little time earlier would have staggered it.
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Speaker 1: The chemist, however, had seen nothing of Miss Clemson's friend.
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Speaker 1: Nothing therefore was to be done but to retire from
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Speaker 1: the field and think what was to be done next.
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Speaker 1: Miss Clemson left, but before leaving, she neatly dropped her
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Speaker 1: latch key into a large basket full of sponges. Standing
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Speaker 1: at her elbow, She felt she might like to have
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Speaker 1: an excuse to visit South Audley Street again. Conscience sighed deeply,
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Speaker 1: and her guardian angel dropped a tear among the sponges.
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Speaker 1: Retiring into the nearest tea shop she came to. Miss Clemson,
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Speaker 1: ordered a cup of coffee and started to think out
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Speaker 1: a plan for honeycombing South Audley Street. She needed an
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Speaker 1: excuse and a disguise. An adventurous spirit was welling up
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Speaker 1: in her elderly bosom, and her first dozen or so
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Speaker 1: ideas were more lurid than practical. At length, a really
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Speaker 1: brilliant notion occurred to her. She was She did not
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Speaker 1: attempt to hide it from herself. Precisely the type and
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Speaker 1: build of person one associates with the collection of subscriptions Moreover,
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Speaker 1: she had a perfectly good and genuine cause ready to hand.
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Speaker 1: The church which she attended in London ran a slum
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Speaker 1: mission which was badly in need of funds, and she
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Speaker 1: possessed a number of collecting cards bearing full authority to
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Speaker 1: receive subscriptions on its behalf. What more natural than that
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Speaker 1: she should try a little house to house visit in
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Speaker 1: a wealthy quarter. The question of disguise also was less
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Speaker 1: formidable than it might appear. Miss Whittaker had only known
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Speaker 1: her well dressed and affluent in appearance. Ugly clumping shoes,
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Speaker 1: a hat of virtuous ugliness, a shapeless coat, and a
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Speaker 1: pair of tinted glasses would disguise her sufficiently at a distance.
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Speaker 1: At close quarters, it would not matter if she was recognized,
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Speaker 1: For if once she got to close quarters with Mary Whittaker,
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Speaker 1: her job was done and she had found the house
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Speaker 1: she wanted, Miss Clemson rose from the table, paid her bill,
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Speaker 1: and hurried out to buy the glasses, remembering that it
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Speaker 1: was Saturday. Having secured a pair which hid her eyes
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Speaker 1: effectively without looking exaggeratedly mysterious, she made for her rooms
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Speaker 1: in Saint George's Square to choose suitable clothing for her adventure.
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Speaker 1: She realized, of course, that she could hardly start work
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Speaker 1: till Monday. Saturday afternoon and Sunday are hopeless from the
27:13
Speaker 1: collector's point of view. The choice of clothes and accessories
27:19
Speaker 1: occupied her for the better part of the afternoon. When
27:23
Speaker 1: she was at last satisfied, she went downstairs to ask
27:27
Speaker 1: her landlady for some tea. Certainly, miss said the good woman.
27:32
Speaker 1: Ain't it awful, Miss about this murder? What murder? Asked
27:38
Speaker 1: Miss Clemson vaguely. She took the evening views from her
27:42
Speaker 1: landlady's hand and read the story of Vera Findlater's death.
27:49
Speaker 1: Sunday was the most awful day Miss Clemson had ever
27:53
Speaker 1: spent an active woman. She was condemned to inactivity, and
28:00
Speaker 1: she had time to brood over the tragedy. Not having
28:04
Speaker 1: Whimsies or Parker's inside knowledge, she took the kidnapping story
28:09
Speaker 1: at its face value. In a sense, she found it comforting,
28:13
Speaker 1: for she was able to acquit Mary Whittaker of any
28:17
Speaker 1: share in this or the previous murders. She put them down, except,
28:23
Speaker 1: of course, in the case of Miss Dawson, and that
28:27
Speaker 1: might never have been a murder after all. To the
28:30
Speaker 1: mysterious man in South Audley Street. She formed a nightmare
28:35
Speaker 1: image of him in her mind, blood boltered, sinister, and
28:40
Speaker 1: most horrible of all, an associate and employer of debauched
28:45
Speaker 1: and brutal assassins. To Miss Clemson's credit be it said
28:50
Speaker 1: that she never for one moment faltered in her determination
28:54
Speaker 1: to track the monster to his lurking place. She wrote
28:59
Speaker 1: a long letter to Lord Peter detailing her plans. Bunter
29:04
Speaker 1: she knew had left one ten a Piccadilly, so after
29:08
Speaker 1: considerable thought, she addressed it to Lord Peter Whimsey, c
29:13
Speaker 1: O Inspector Parker the police station, crows Beach. There was,
29:19
Speaker 1: of course no Sunday post from town, however it would
29:23
Speaker 1: go with the midnight collection. On the Monday morning, she
29:28
Speaker 1: set out early in her old clothes and her spectacles
29:33
Speaker 1: for South Audley Street. Never had her natural inquisitiveness and
29:38
Speaker 1: her hard training in third rate boarding houses stood her
29:43
Speaker 1: in better stead. She had learned to ask questions without
29:48
Speaker 1: heeding rebuffs, to be persistent, insensitive, and observant. In every
29:55
Speaker 1: flat she visited. She acted her natural self with so
30:00
Speaker 1: much sincerity and such limpet like obstinacy that she seldom
30:05
Speaker 1: came away without a subscription, and almost never without some
30:09
Speaker 1: information about the flat and its inmates. By tea time,
30:15
Speaker 1: she had done one side of the street and nearly
30:18
Speaker 1: half the other without result. She was just thinking of
30:23
Speaker 1: going to get some food when she caught sight of
30:26
Speaker 1: a woman about a hundred yards ahead, walking briskly in
30:31
Speaker 1: the same direction as herself. Now it is easy to
30:35
Speaker 1: be mistaken in faces, but almost impossible not to recognize
30:40
Speaker 1: a back. Miss Clempson's heart gave a bound Mary Whittaker.
30:47
Speaker 1: She said to herself, and started to follow. The woman
30:52
Speaker 1: stopped to look into a shop window. Miss Clemson hesitated
30:56
Speaker 1: to come closer. If Mary Whittaker was at large, then
31:02
Speaker 1: why then the kidnapping had been done with her own consent? Puzzled,
31:08
Speaker 1: Miss Clemson determined to play a waiting game. The woman
31:12
Speaker 1: went into the shop. The friendly chemist's was almost opposite.
31:17
Speaker 1: Miss Clemson decided that this was the moment to reclaim
31:21
Speaker 1: her latch key. She went in and asked for it.
31:25
Speaker 1: It had been put aside for her, and the assistant
31:27
Speaker 1: produced it at once. The woman was still in the shop.
31:32
Speaker 1: Over the way, Miss Clempson embarked upon a long string
31:36
Speaker 1: of apologies and circumstantial details about her carelessness. The woman
31:43
Speaker 1: came out. Miss Clemson gave her a longish start, brought
31:48
Speaker 1: the conversation to a close, and fussed out again, replacing
31:53
Speaker 1: the glasses which she had removed for the chemist's benefit.
31:57
Speaker 1: The woman walked on without stopping, but she looked into
32:01
Speaker 1: the shop windows from time to time. A man with
32:04
Speaker 1: a fruiterer's barrow removed his cap as she passed and
32:08
Speaker 1: scratched his head. Almost at once, The woman turned quickly
32:13
Speaker 1: and came back. The fruiterer picked up the handles of
32:18
Speaker 1: his barrow and trundled it away into a side street.
32:22
Speaker 1: The woman came straight on, and Miss Clemson was obliged
32:26
Speaker 1: to dive into a doorway and pretend to be tying
32:30
Speaker 1: a boot lace to avoid a face to face encounter.
32:34
Speaker 1: Apparently the woman had only forgotten to buy cigarettes. She
32:38
Speaker 1: went into a tobacconist's and emerged again in a minute
32:42
Speaker 1: or two, passing Miss Clemson again. That lady had dropped
32:46
Speaker 1: her bag and was agitatedly sorting its contents. The woman
32:51
Speaker 1: passed her without a glance and went on. Miss Clemson,
32:56
Speaker 1: flushed from stooping, followed again. The woman turned in at
33:01
Speaker 1: the entrance to a block of flats next door to
33:04
Speaker 1: a florist's. Miss Clemson was hard on her heels now,
33:09
Speaker 1: for she was afraid of losing her Mary Whittaker. If
33:14
Speaker 1: it was Mary Whittaker, went straight through the hall to
33:18
Speaker 1: the lift, which was one of the kind worked by
33:21
Speaker 1: the passenger. She stepped in and shot up. Miss Clemson,
33:26
Speaker 1: gazing at the orchids and roses in the florist's window,
33:31
Speaker 1: watched the lift out of sight. Then, with her subscription
33:35
Speaker 1: card prominently in her hand, she too entered the flats.
33:41
Speaker 1: There was a porter on duty in a little glass case.
33:44
Speaker 1: He at once spotted Miss Clemson as a stranger, and
33:48
Speaker 1: asked politely if he could do anything for her. Miss Clemson,
33:54
Speaker 1: selecting a name at random from the list of occupants
33:57
Speaker 1: in the entrance, asked which was missus Forest's flat. The
34:02
Speaker 1: man replied that it was on the fourth floor, and
34:05
Speaker 1: stepped forward to bring the lift down for her. A
34:09
Speaker 1: man to whom he had been chatting, moved quietly from
34:14
Speaker 1: the glass case and took up a position in the doorway.
34:18
Speaker 1: As the lift ascended, Miss Clemson noticed that the fruiterer
34:22
Speaker 1: had returned his barrow, now just stood outside. The porter
34:28
Speaker 1: had come up with her and pointed out the door
34:30
Speaker 1: of missus Forest's flat. His presence was reassuring. She wished
34:36
Speaker 1: he would stay within call till she had concluded her
34:39
Speaker 1: search of the building. However, having asked for missus Forest,
34:44
Speaker 1: she must begin there. She pressed the bell. At first
34:50
Speaker 1: she thought the flat was empty, but after ringing a
34:53
Speaker 1: second time, she heard footsteps. The door opened, and a
34:59
Speaker 1: heavily over dressed and peroxided lady made her appearance, whom
35:04
Speaker 1: Lord Peter would at once and embarrassingly have recognized. I
35:10
Speaker 1: have come, said Miss Clemson, wedging herself briskly in at
35:15
Speaker 1: the doorway. With the skill of the practiced canvasser to
35:20
Speaker 1: try if I can enlist your help for our mission settlement.
35:24
Speaker 1: May I come in? I am sure you no, thanks,
35:29
Speaker 1: said missus Forest shortly, and in a hurried, breathless tone,
35:34
Speaker 1: as if there was somebody behind her who she was
35:37
Speaker 1: anxious should not overhear her. I'm not interested in missions.
35:42
Speaker 1: She tried to shut the door, but Miss Clemson had
35:46
Speaker 1: seen and heard enough. Good gracious, she cried, staring, why
35:52
Speaker 1: it's come in. Missus Forrest caught her by the arm
35:57
Speaker 1: almost roughly and pulled her over the threshold, slamming the
36:01
Speaker 1: door behind them. How extraordinary, said Miss Clemson. I hardly
36:07
Speaker 1: recognized you, Miss Whittaker, with your hair like that, you said,
36:12
Speaker 1: Mary Whittaker, you, of all people. They sat facing one
36:18
Speaker 1: another in the sitting room with its tawdry, pink silk cushions.
36:23
Speaker 1: I knew you were a meddler. How did you get here?
36:26
Speaker 1: Is there anyone with you? No? Yes, I just happened,
36:31
Speaker 1: began Miss Clemson, vaguely. One thought was uppermost in her mind.
36:37
Speaker 1: How did you get free? What happened? Who killed Vera?
36:42
Speaker 1: She knew she was asking her questions crudely and stupidly.
36:48
Speaker 1: Why are you disguised like that? Who sent you? Reiterated
36:53
Speaker 1: Mary Whittaker. Who is the man with you? Pursued Miss Clemson?
36:59
Speaker 1: Is he here? Did he do the murder? What man?
37:04
Speaker 1: The man Vera saw leaving your flat? Did he? So?
37:10
Speaker 1: That's it? Vera told you the liar. I thought I
37:14
Speaker 1: had been quick enough. Suddenly, something which had been troubling
37:19
Speaker 1: Miss Clemson for weeks crystallized and became plain to her,
37:24
Speaker 1: the expression in Mary Whittaker's eyes. A long time ago,
37:29
Speaker 1: Miss Clemson had assisted a relative to run a boarding house,
37:33
Speaker 1: and there had been a young man who paid his
37:36
Speaker 1: bill by check. She had had to make a certain
37:40
Speaker 1: amount of unpleasantness about the bill, and he had written
37:43
Speaker 1: the check unwillingly, sitting with her eye upon him at
37:48
Speaker 1: the little plush covered table in the drawing room. Then
37:52
Speaker 1: he had gone away, slinking out with his bag when
37:56
Speaker 1: no one was about, and the check had come back,
38:00
Speaker 1: like the bad penny, that it was a forgery. Miss
38:05
Speaker 1: Clemson had had to give evidence. She remembered now the odd,
38:10
Speaker 1: defiant look with which the young man had taken up
38:13
Speaker 1: his pen for his first plunge into crime, and to
38:18
Speaker 1: day she was seeing it again, an unattractive mingling of
38:23
Speaker 1: recklessness and calculation. It was the look which had once
38:27
Speaker 1: warned Whimsy, and should have warned her. She breathed more quickly.
38:33
Speaker 1: Who was the man? The man? Mary Whittaker laughed. Suddenly,
38:39
Speaker 1: a man called Templeton. No friend of mine. It's really
38:44
Speaker 1: funny that you should think he was a friend of mine.
38:47
Speaker 1: I would have killed him if I could. But where
38:51
Speaker 1: is he? What are you doing? Don't you know that
38:55
Speaker 1: everybody is looking for you? Why don't you? That's why
39:01
Speaker 1: Mary Whittaker flung her the ten o'clock edition of the
39:04
Speaker 1: Evening Banner, which was lying on the sofa. Miss Clemson
39:08
Speaker 1: read the glaring headlines amazing new developments in Crow's Beach,
39:14
Speaker 1: crime wounds on body inflicted after death, faked footprints. Miss
39:22
Speaker 1: Clemson gasped with amazement and bent over the smaller type.
39:28
Speaker 1: How extraordinary, she said, looking up quickly, not quite quickly enough.
39:35
Speaker 1: The heavy brass lamp missed her head indeed, but fell
39:40
Speaker 1: numbingly on her shoulder. She sprang to her feet with
39:44
Speaker 1: a loud shriek, just as Mary Whittaker's strong white hands
39:49
Speaker 1: closed upon her throat. End of Chapter twenty two.