The Swinging Death by Brian Flynn

Author:Brian Flynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

5

“Come in, Daphne.”

Anthony immediately registered the significance of the Christian name.

Mrs. Stanhope closed the door behind her and advanced towards them.

“There are two gentlemen here,” said Stanhope, “who have come all the way from Scotland Yard to see us. I’ll include you in the visit.”

A charming and attractive woman in the early forties, Daphne Stanhope welcomed MacMorran and Anthony warmly and yet with an entire absence of fuss. She had light brown hair and a pair of sensitive grey eyes.

“And what have we done,” she said whimsically, as she seated herself, “to deserve such an honour? Still—I expect I know.” She smoothed out a fold in her skirt. “It’s about Doctor Field, isn’t it?”

“That’s so, Mrs. Stanhope,” replied MacMorran. “Mr. Bathurst and I are doing our best to solve what is really a most extraordinary problem. And as the dead man spent some hours here with you just before he met with his death—well, you can guess why we came along.”

“Can we help you in any way, then, do you think?”

“No. It doesn’t seem as though you can. Mr. Stanhope has done his best—but there you are. As he says—he knew very little of Field, really.”

“He came here but twice—as you know.”

“Yes. Your husband has been making that clear to us.”

“You did arrange about some tea, my dear—did you not?”

Mrs. Stanhope smiled the affirmative. The smile embraced the entire company. “My husband’s a rare man for his tea,” she said.

“I’m a host this afternoon, my dear, besides being a husband.”

“It’s all being got ready,” she said reassuringly—“and it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. So be as patient as you can—and talk to these gentlemen.”

Anthony suddenly shot a question at her. “What did you think of Dr. Field, Mrs. Stanhope? I’m a terrific believer in a woman’s intuition.”

“Also, Mr. Bathurst,” she said a little mockingly, “I can see that you’re an accomplished flatterer.”

Anthony smiled. “Another tribute to your intuition.”

“And another example of your flattery.” The grey eyes were at their best. Anthony saw that they were almost exactly the same shade of colour as his own. Mrs. Stanhope went on, however, to answer his question. “You asked me my opinion of Dr. Field, Mr. Bathurst. Did you mean as a doctor or as a man? Because, to a woman, there’s a great deal of difference between the two.”

“Oh—as a man, Mrs. Stanhope. Definitely as a man.”

“Well,” replied Mrs. Stanhope, staring into the heart of the fire, “I can’t say that he appealed to me—or that I even liked him. I think that he was a clever doctor—a very clever doctor—but I’m certain that I should never have liked him as a man.” Philip Stanhope laughed lightly at his wife’s reply. “You’ve been spoiled, my dear. You mustn’t expect every man you meet to be as nice as I am. Hallo—here’s the tea.”

Stanhope rose and his wife went to the maid who had brought in the tea-things. “And here are the others,” said Philip Stanhope—“now we’re all set. What marvellous noses the members of my family have.

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