Mr Fortune's Trials by Bailey H. C

Author:Bailey, H. C. [Bailey, H. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Anthology
Published: 1925-02-27T05:00:00+00:00

TRIAL V

HE LONG BARROW

MR. FORTUNE came back from the Zoo pensive. lie had ken called to the inquest on Zuleika the lemur—a strange, sad case.

He rang for tea, and was given a lady’s card. Miss Isabel Woodall, who had no address, wished to consult Mr. Fortune: she had been waiting half an hour. Mr. Fortune sighed and went into the anteroom.

Miss Isabel Woodall stood up, a woman who had been younger, still demurely handsome. She was large and fair, but so plainly and darkly dressed that she made little of herself. “Mr. Fortune?” she said with a pleasant shy smile.

“Yes. I’m afraid you didn’t know that I’m not in practice now.”

“But I didn’t come to see you—er-—medically. I’m not a patient, Mr. Fortune. I’m not ill. At least I don’t think so. I wanted to consult you about a mystery.”

“Oh! I never go into a mystery except with the police, Miss Woodall.”

“The police won’t do anything. They laugh at us.” She twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “I’m frightfully worried, Mr. Fortune. And I don’t know what to do.” She looked at him with large, anxious eyes. “Do you mind hearing about it?”

Reggie Fortune decided that he did not mind. She was good to look at. He opened the door of his consulting-room.

“I’m Mr. Larkin’s secretary,” she explained. “Mr. Joseph Larkin: do you know him?”

“The antiquary?” Reggie Fortune murmured.

“Archæologist,” Miss Woodall corrected him sharply. “He’s the greatest authority on the Stone Age in England, Mr. Fortune. He has a house down in Dorsetshire, just on the border of the New Forest country, Restharrow, Stoke Abbas.” As she seemed to expect it Reggie made a note. “I’ve been working with him down there. But lately it’s been horrible, Mr. Fortune.” Her voice went up. “As if somebody wanted to drive me away.”

“Yes. Now suppose we begin at the beginning. How long have you been Mr. Larkin’s secretary?”

“Oh, more than six months now.”

“And nobody was ever horrible to you before?”

She stared at him. “Of course not. Nothing ever happened to me before. What do you mean, Mr. Fortune? You don’t think it’s Mr. Larkin, do you?”

“I haven’t begun to think,” said Reggie. “Well, you lived a peaceful life till you became Mr. Larkin’s secretary. And then?”

“Oh, yes, and long after that. It was all quite peaceful while we were in London. But in the spring Mr. Larkin took this house at Stoke Abbas. It’s a very lovely place, where the moors meet the downs. Mr. Larkin wanted to study the prehistoric remains about there. There’s lots of them, ancient earthworks and burial places.”

“Yes. Several long barrows on the hills.”

She leaned forward clasping her hands. “That’s it, Mr. Fortune,” she said in a low eager voice. “Mr. Larkin has been making plans to excavate the long barrow above Stoke Abbas. Did you know about it?”

Reggie smiled. “No. No. I’m afraid Mr. Larkin hadn’t attracted my attention.”

She flung herself back in her chair. She gave a little cry of irritation. “Do please be serious! That’s just like the stupid police down there.

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