The Case of the Painted Ladies by Brian Flynn

Author:Brian Flynn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2021-06-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XVII

ANTIQUES

When Mr. Bathurst reached Brighton station via the Brighton Belle out of Victoria, he crossed to a side-platform and boarded a train which announced itself as destined for Portsmouth Harbour. This train went through the stations of Hove and Portslade, and in surprisingly quick time landed him at Southwick. Arrived here, he first of all passed under the railway arch and walked to the waterfront. Here the prospect he considered was surprisingly unattractive and uninviting. Though perhaps not so entirely industrial in character as its near neighbour Portslade, Southwick, on the whole, disappointed him. He walked a hundred yards or so in each direction before deciding to turn back from the foreshore into the town itself. Improvement soon manifested itself. Little inns there were in plenty. Striking inland, Mr. Bathurst found himself facing the green where cricket has been and can be played in the real Sussex spirit. Near by, he found a football field with yet another inn on the opposite corner. Mr. Bathurst entered this establishment, ordered a tankard of bitter, opened a conversation with the stout man who served him, and eventually, when the time had become ripe, inquired of his host as to the whereabouts of Brunskill Corner.

“Brunskill Corner, sir?”

Mr. Bathurst nodded.

“Brunskill Corner’s a good mile walk from here. Every bit of that. Towards Shoreham. Turn right when you leave here, cut across the far corner of the green, then turn right again, and carry straight on along the front. You can’t miss the turning. There’s a pretty big building yard just by it. You’ll be bound to see that, sir.”

Mr. Bathurst thanked his informant and set off for Brunskill Corner. Twenty minutes hard walking brought him to it. There was the boat-building yard that the landlord of the inn had specially mentioned and there, too, but a few yards distant, was the ‘antique’ shop of Gaunt, Marston and Co. Mr. Bathurst, without hesitation, made his way into the shop. A bell announced the fact. Behind the counter stood a tall young man. The chief features of his face were his abnormal height of cheek-bone, sandy hair, and a wealth of freckles. His arms, too, were unusually long and thin. His mouth was slightly open. “Yes,” he said rather eagerly, “do you want to look at anything?”

Anthony gave a comprehensive glance round. The shop held glass of all kinds, old coins, old books, old pictures, old furniture, old candlesticks, old time-pieces of many types, old silver, and old pewter. Every inch of the place seemed to be filled with something which spoke eloquently of the tale of the years. Anthony thought that he could never have seen a shop so full to overflowing of the genuine ‘antique.’ He smiled at the young man with the high cheek-bones.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “the boot’s on the other foot. I want you to look at something. But first of all I’ll introduce myself.” Mr. Bathurst handed over his card, endorsed by Sir Austin Kemble.

The suspicion of a frown crossed the young man’s face.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.