Curiosity Killed The Cat by Joan Cockin

Curiosity Killed The Cat by Joan Cockin

Author:Joan Cockin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Galileo Publishing
Published: 2023-10-10T11:02:04+00:00


CHAPTER VIII

LITTLE BIGGLING had heard the news of murder in its midst with excited interest. But it was a pity that the victim was so little known to the villagers. Lack of exact and scandalous information about his mysterious past tediously confined conversation to guesses which seemed wild even to their originators and to the actual details of the murder. On the latter event, however, there was very little information to be had. The Inspector, it was resentfully reported, was keeping very close, except for long chats with the Doctor, who was equally non-committal. Although the murder was still the only subject of conversation at the Ministry, by Saturday the question was beginning to languish in the village for lack of sustaining gossip. The Press had given little attention to the case, owing to the superior attractions of a chain of murders in London by a jewel-thieving gang. What comment there was concentrated on the fact that Parry was a MSR employee, and Little Biggling itself received scant mention. Hurt by this indifference, Little Biggling proceeded to ignore the case and to claim that the murder was just another manifestation of London bad manners.

But then, like paraffin on the flames, came tremendous news—much more sensational than the actual murder—that Miss Penny had disappeared. Miss Penny! Everybody knew Miss Penny, and everything about her, too. A rich vein of gossip was opened up. There was her father, now. Back in 1920 he died, and he was such a drinker! Oh, a devil of a fellow, who beat his wife to death, some said, and then lived on his daughter until he died of DTs. And there were all Miss Penny’s idiosyncrasies—her passion for neatness, the old-fashioned clothes she wore, her teetotalism, the young farmer she had once fallen in love with and sent two yards of white dimity as a birthday present. After fifty years in the village there were few secrets about Miss Penny, and the disappearance opened a vast field of reminiscence and speculation. Poor Miss Penny! After fifty years of teetotalism, to have her name bandied freely about the local bars; after fifty years of spinsterhood to have elaborate and ribald explanations of her disappearance discussed by every housewife in the village. This was real news to Little Biggling, and they made the most of it.

The news, then not much more than a suspicion, reached the police-station about noon on Saturday. Cam was in his office about to begin questioning the surly Ramsden when Mr. Witherspoon begged to see him on most urgent business.

The little man bustled in, carrying in his hands a large casserole dish, steaming deliciously with hot stew. Cam sniffed at it with mingled surprise and hope—for his dinner hour was fast approaching.

“This—this is for Miss Penny,” stammered Mr. Witherspoon, looking quite distracted.

“Is it now?” said Cam resignedly. “And very nice, too. But she isn’t here, you know.”

“It’s most extraordinary,” said the chemist. “But I think she’s disappeared.”

He paused a moment to put the casserole at his feet, as it was beginning to burn his hands through his handkerchief.



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