Bridesmaids Revisited by Cannell Dorothy

Author:Cannell, Dorothy [Cannell, Dorothy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: General, British Cozy Mystery, Fiction
ISBN: 9780783892726
Publisher: G.K. Hall
Published: 2000-06-15T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

I lay absolutely rigid. There was no doubt at all that this time I was awake. My mind was clear. Every part of me was prickling with fear, but when I opened my eyes I couldn’t see or hear anything. Not so much as a whispering shadow, although when the voice had spoken I had felt evil breathing down my neck. I was having trouble breathing myself and suddenly realized why. The patchwork quilt, along with the sheet, was covering my face.

Shoving them off, I scrambled out of bed. With the curtains closed it was pitch-dark in the room. It took me a while to find my way to the door and fumble for the light switch. There was no bedside lamp. And there was no one in the room but me. Unless, I thought, as I blinked several times to adjust to the brightness, whoever it had been was hiding in the wardrobe.

I looked, certain as I did so, that whoever it was would have gone out the door with all possible speed. But when I checked the key, it was still turned in the lock. I fleetingly considered the window. It turned out to be unlatched. But I would have heard it being opened and closed when the intruder made his or her escape, presumably by way of a ladder propped against the house wall. A ladder that would have needed to be removed—hardly a speedy task. And before that stage of the game, whoever it was would have had to take vital extra moments to redraw the curtains. What about the bathroom? I had to keep moving, I couldn’t let myself dwell on what the monstrous voice had said about my mother. Not now. Not yet. If I did, I would start crying or go into a huddle. Time enough after I figured out how the entry and exit had been achieved.

The bathroom idea didn’t pan out. The window was above the toilet, which would have made for easy access, but it was a round one, not much bigger than a dinner plate. A person might possibly be able to stick his head through it when it was open. Nothing more. He’d be left looking as though he’d been put in the stocks. I returned to the bedroom and sat down on the trunk at the foot of the bed for a moment before looking towards the spiral staircase. Could it provide the answer? Catching up my nightgown so as not to trip, I nipped up the pie-shaped steps. Two whirligig rounds and I was on a wooden platform, level with the attic floor. Dangling to my left was a string which when pulled provided light equal to that of the bedroom.

The space was well organized as such places go. There were several shelves stacked with boxes mounted on one wall, an old sofa positioned against another, and several other pieces of furniture grouped together in a corner. Along with a rolled-up carpet, a couple of

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