Murder of Lydia by Joan A. Cowdroy

Author:Joan A. Cowdroy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2019-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XII

The circle of green chairs in the enclosure round the bandstand was sparsely occupied when Gorham drove along the front to leave his car in the official park, and he had no difficulty in picking out a small, immobile figure on one of them, who listened with Oriental patience to the nauseating strains of the Happy Song from Sunshine Susie.

After a brief interview with Manning, who was waiting for him in his hotel, he crossed the parade, bought a day ticket, and strolled into the enclosure.

In front of Mr. Moh’s chair he paused to glance across the crowded beach towards the water, while he counted his change.

“Join me on the breakwater, Moh,” he murmured in a low voice. “I’m going to view the scene of the crime in a boat. I’d like your company.”

He walked on through the other exit, along the parade and out on to the pier, at the far end of which Moh, who had made his way thither by the beach and a flight of steps, joined him with unruffled calm.

“You got my message all right last night? I was awfully sorry to cut our meeting, but with the publication of that Castle yarn in the local rag I had a crowded evening.”

“Aware such must be,” said Mr. Moh, “when I read it, the grease being bung in the conflagration, I took immediate family and relatives by marriage to the pictures.”

Gorham chuckled.

“I wish you’d join us at the Department, old man! A pleasant time would be had by all. Specially me. Bond is waiting here with a boat to take us out to the point. Do you know anything about sea-swimming and currents?”

“Not on your life!” said Mr. Moh with candour.

“Well, I’ve got to work out an accurate schedule of distances, and the approximate time it took or might have taken half the population of Suffolk to cover them, swimming at different rates of speed according to their several capacities,” Gorham murmured with a sigh. “So if you pine for more of that band this evening you had better not come with us.”

“Eternity is around us,” Mr. Moh assured him cheerfully. “Every moment snatched from the clangour of that saxophone to listen to the music of a friend’s voice is doubly sweet. And family are out to tea and supper at neighbours, from whom absence of this unworthy one is unmitigated pleasure to all concerned.”

Bond, looking young and stalwart if a little shy, in flannels and a blue jersey, saluted Gorham at the landing stage.

“You directed me to come in rough, plain clothes, sir. I hope these suit.”

Gorham looked him over critically.

“Quite, so far as I’m a judge. That blue suits your eyes nicely. This the police-boat?”

“No, sir. We don’t possess an official launch, sir,” Bond explained, blushing hotly. “This is hired from Charles Weston the boat-owner here, and on receiving your orders I proceeded to secure Weston’s brother-in-law, William Smith, sir. He’s a retired coastguard, has lived here for twelve years and knows every inch of the coast.

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