Conspiracy at Angel by Brian Flynn

Author:Brian Flynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2022-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

As previously stated, Maher’s choices had been struck through in pencil scrawl, scarcely legible—as the marginal address had been—and other choices substituted, as shown by the amendments. With one exception, however—that of the last-named selection. For some reason or other the choice of the mighty “Bayardo” had been allowed to remain unaltered. Anthony frowned at what he saw in front of him and looked in wonderment from Priscilla to Colonel Schofield.

“First of all,” he said, “and before I make any serious comment on this matter, may I ask you from where you got this?”

“Yes, you may,” answered Priscilla—somewhat proudly, Anthony thought. “I expected you to ask me that. That was brought to me yesterday afternoon by a messenger from the Snow-white Sanitary Steam Laundry, of High Street, Angel! That causes you some surprise, Mr. Bathurst, doesn’t it?”

Anthony thought it over. “Well,” he remarked eventually, “I suppose I can assume it was accompanied by some sort of explanation?”

“Yes, I suppose you could call it that. One of the roundsmen employed by the laundry brought it. His story was as follows. It had been picked up yesterday morning on the floor of the laundry’s ‘sorting-of-delivery’ room. What have you got to say to that, Mr. Bathurst?”

Anthony countered with another question. “How had it come there? Any explanation of that particular point?”

“No. That’s the rather disappointing part about it. I’m ready to admit that. It was just picked up off the floor. One of the girls who were engaged in the sorting of the dirty laundry that had been brought in from that day’s collection noticed it, picked it up and scrutinized it. Then she saw my name on it, and as we happen to send our stuff to the Snow-white, she asked one of the roundsmen to bring it to me.”

Anthony considered the statement. “Interesting—without a doubt,” he commented—“exceedingly interesting. And now that you’ve dealt with the ‘exhibit’, as I’ll call this paper, may I ask you what you make of it yourself?”

Anthony waited for the reply to be forthcoming. Priscilla spoke to her father.

“Well, Daddy, what do you make of it? You have first go at Mr. Bathurst and leave me to take second innings.”

Colonel Schofield shook his head. “I’m sunk! Absolutely sunk! Scuppered! So it’s not the slightest use appealing to me. Your lead, Priscilla.”

Priscilla pursed her lips before she answered. When she spoke, she spoke slowly, calmly and deliberately.

“I believe—and my belief is firm and unshaken—that this message came to me from Mr. Langley. That in some way it’s been directed to me, because he needs my help. That he desires me to know where he is. That’s all—but it’s enough in its way, isn’t it? Don’t you think so?”

Anthony heard her out and remained silent. Priscilla attacked again.

“Well, Mr. Bathurst—and what’s your reply to all that?”

Anthony smiled at her. “There’s one thing, Miss Schofield—I haven’t contradicted you, have I?”

“I know you haven’t. That’s the thought that’s uppermost in my mind. But does that necessarily mean that you agree with what I’ve said?”

There was a twinkle in Anthony’s eye.

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