The Crooked Inn by Ernest Dudley

Author:Ernest Dudley [Dudley, Ernest]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2017-07-25T22:00:00+00:00

8

The grandfather’s-clock at the foot of the staircase struck three-thirty as old Price paused in the door of the Crooked Inn and sneezed. He went in and Roberts materialised from the shadows to greet him.

‘There you are. On the dot.’

The old man peered at him, his eyes dazzled by the sunlight and requiring a minute or two in which to get used to the shadowy lounge. ‘Oh, it’s you, Mr. Roberts.’

‘Miss Anderson will appreciate you being so punctual.’

‘I didn’t want to keep her waiting,’ Price said politely. ‘She is expecting me?’

‘She’s expecting you, never fear.’

‘You told her it was something important I wanted to see her about?’ Roberts took the cigarette from the corner of his mouth and exhaled slowly. Beneath his unwinking gaze the old man shifted from one foot to the other. There was something about Roberts’ attitude which filled him with a certain uneasiness. He thought he detected a smirk of what might be secret triumph on those dark, sharp features.

‘As I promised you I would,’ the other was telling him, suavely. ‘Without saying what it was.’

Old Price relaxed somewhat. He gave Roberts a grateful nod. ‘Very kind of you.’

‘It’s my duty to do all I can to help get this business cleared up.’ Roberts went on, after a moment’s hesitation: ‘The only thing is, Miss Anderson — er — isn’t here.’

‘But you said —’

‘I know what I said, and she still wants to see you.’

Price peered at him from under his bristling eyebrows, and pushing his cap back, scratched his head. ‘You mean,’ he said slowly, ‘Miss Anderson isn’t in, and I’m to wait till she gets back?’

‘Er — no …’ Roberts eyed him cautiously, as if he was weighing every word. ‘The idea,’ he said, ‘is for you to meet her.’

Price didn’t catch what he said. ‘Eh?’

‘You’re to meet her,’ Roberts raised his voice. ‘Somewhere else.’

‘Meet her somewhere else? Where?’

‘You see, with the guests coming in for tea, it wouldn’t have been easy for you to talk to her. Not quietly.’

‘I suppose it might have been a bit awkward.’ But the old man’s expression was still puzzled.

‘And we don’t want to risk anyone overhearing you.’

That was true enough, Price told himself. He didn’t want Parry the Police, for instance, to know he had been out at that late hour last night, only put suspicions in his mind, Parry being the nasty, creeping, sneaking sort he was. He heard Roberts saying:

‘So Miss Anderson said will you meet her where the footpath starts up to Crooked Mountain?’

Price stared at him, his mouth open. ‘But that path,’ he found his voice, ‘is the one leading to — to —’

‘Well?’

‘To the old copper-mine.’

‘That’s it,’ Roberts said briskly. ‘There’ll be nobody about and you can talk without fear of interruption.’

Price continued to eye him without any degree of enthusiasm. ‘I should think there will be nobody about,’ he grumbled. ‘You know as well as I do, no one dare go near the place, being that scared.’

‘Night time, I know,’ Roberts said airily, ‘it is — well — supposed to be haunted.

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