The Body in the Road by Moray Dalton

Author:Moray Dalton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2019-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter XVI

The Darkest Hour

Linda was up and boiling a kettle for her tea on the gas ring when the woman of the house appeared. She looked up quickly, mindful of what the landlady had threatened to do if she had not left by nine o’clock.

“I’m packed and ready, Mrs. Biggs. My friends will be fetching me. But what about Miss Hunter’s things? Will you take charge of them until she comes back or sends for them?”

“There’s some one waiting below for you now,” said Mrs. Biggs coldly. “You’d better leave your suitcase and box. They’ll be called for later, it seems. My ’ouse is not my own nowadays, nor my wishes considered.”

Linda drank her tea hastily, put on her hat and coat, and ran down the stairs. Lord Haringdon was so good, she must not keep him waiting. But the car outside was not his but a hired taxi, and a young policeman who was standing by the curb opened the door for her.

She shrank back. “The station again? I told them all I knew yesterday—”

“Step in, please.”

She glanced up at his impassive face and realised that it would be futile to argue. He had to carry out his orders. She got into the taxi and he followed. The little crowd of idlers that had collected scattered as the driver sounded his horn.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I wouldn’t talk if I was you, miss. The less you say the better.”

“Oh—very well—”

They had turned down the High Street and crossed the bridge. Some time before they reached their destination the girl realised that they were going to her cottage, the place that for weeks past had been the centre of all her activities. The taxi stopped at the garden gate. Superintendent Lamb himself was there to open the door and help her out.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Merle. I shall be glad of your assistance.” He unlatched the gate she had painted green the last time she was there and they walked up the brick path to the cottage together.

“You expect to find a clue to Vi’s disappearance here?” she said rather faintly. This man had bullied her yesterday. She feared him as she had never feared anyone in her life before. He seemed in a more genial mood this morning but she knew that at any moment he might bark out one of those questions she had found so hard to answer.

“You came here every day last month, painting, distempering the walls, and so forth,” he said, “saving the wages of a handy man, eh?”

“Yes. I had to be careful—”

“But you haven’t been since the day you and Miss Hunter quarrelled, Sunday week, that is. The green paint you were using has dried in the pot,” he said conversationally.

“No. I haven’t been since,” she admitted.

“How’s that? You wanted to get the place ready and move in, didn’t you? Why waste ten days?”

“Lord Haringdon asked me not to come for a while.”

“Why?”

Her colour faded. He was beginning again. “I—I don’t know. He seemed to think there might be danger—”

“Danger?”

“On the road.

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