The Two Ticket Puzzle by J. J. Connington

Author:J. J. Connington
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Phocion Publishing
Published: 2019-10-31T00:00:00+00:00

XI. MADGE WINSLOW’S EVIDENCE

“That mouth’s just a trifle hard,” was Superintendent Ross’s inward comment, as he examined Madge Winslow’s face. The clean-cut features, the finely arched eyebrows, the natural wave in the girl’s dark hair, all met with his artistic approval; but the curve of the lips hinted at a stronger character than would have been inferred from the rest of the physiognomy.

“I’m sorry to trouble you again, Miss Winslow,” Ross said in a semi-apologetic tone, “but the fact is, we haven’t got to the bottom of this case yet, and we’re still in need of more information.”

Madge Winslow sat down, crossed one knee over the other, shook her skirt into position, and with a gesture invited the Superintendent to take a seat; but she made no attempt to help him by volunteering anything. He noticed that, whether by accident or design, she had chosen a chair with its back to the light, whilst his own faced the nearest window.

“There are just two or three points I’d like to be clear about,” Ross pursued, drawing his notebook from his pocket as he spoke. “When I saw you last, you explained that Mr. Preston breakfasted alone on the morning of his death.”

Madge Winslow contented herself with a confirmatory nod.

“And Mrs. Preston had breakfast in her own room, which was her usual custom?”

Another nod formally corroborated this.

“And you yourself were late in coming down, because you had been at a dance the night before? When did you actually come downstairs, Miss Winslow?”

If Madge Winslow was surprised by this question, she succeeded in concealing it.

“Shortly after Mr. Preston left the house,” she answered, without comment.

Ross switched off to a fresh subject.

“You told me that Mr. Preston and Mr. Iverson were your trustees. What is the exact state of affairs in that matter?”

Madge Winslow’s eyebrows arched slightly at the question.

“Are my private affairs really essential?” she demanded.

“Everything connected with Mr. Preston is of value to us,” the Superintendent pointed out in a neutral tone.

Madge Winslow seemed to consider this statement in all its possible bearings before she spoke again.

“Then the position is this,” she said. “My father left a certain capital and appointed as trustees Mr. Preston and the firm of solicitors of which Mr. Iverson is now head. The senior partner died last year, and now Mr. Iverson manages things. The arrangement under the will is that I have the life rent of the estate, and the capital will be distributed after my death among any children I happen to have, if I get married. I can’t touch the capital itself. I’m not a trustee myself till I’m twenty-five. When I’m twenty-five, I can draw the full interest on the capital; but until my twenty-fifth birthday my trustees pay me what the will calls ‘an allowance sufficient in the opinion of the trustees’ for my expenses.”

Ross, in his turn, considered for a few moments before putting further questions.

“Perhaps you did not quite see eye to eye with Mr. Preston about the amount you were allowed? Mr.

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