The Puzzle of the Pepper Tree by Stuart Palmer

Author:Stuart Palmer [Palmer, Stuart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781784087647
Publisher: Head of Zeus Ltd
Published: 2013-03-29T20:06:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIV

TWISTED CACTUS AND THORN bushes made an unfriendly, alien circle around them. Far overhead a flotilla of slate-colored pelicans beat their wings against the sea wind, convoyed in perfect flying formation by a flock of Mother Carey’s chickens. Monotonously the great combers pounded against the foot of the cliff, bringing a sense of desolation to the fat little dog, who huddled halfway between these two clashing divinities and whimpered unhappily.

“I didn’t bring you here for companionship,” explained Hildegarde Withers. “We are alone, where you can neither get away nor scream for help. You haven’t been frank with me, young lady.”

Phyllis squatted on her heels and pretended to be interested in a blade of grass. “Is that a crime?” she asked softly.

“It is not,” said Miss Withers. “But the withholding of important evidence is a crime. And I’ve heard that the police frown upon blackmail, too.” The schoolteacher’s blue eyes were clouded. She was finding this sort of thing harder than she had thought.

“You’d better talk,” she said. “I want to know what is between you and that movie director, and why you are shielding him.”

Phyllis seemed unworried but grave. “I’m not shielding him, particularly,” she said. “Only—nobody asked me.”

“I’m asking now,” Miss Withers pressed on.

“And I’m telling you now,” said Phyllis. “There isn’t anything between me and Tate. I tried to make him the first day, you know that. He is powerful enough to give me the chance that I’ve been praying for. I was lucky enough to get something on him, and I made a certain bargain with him which I changed my mind about when the time came. There were too many strings attached. All the same, I’m not a squealer, and I kept my mouth shut.”

“I would not be likely to agree with your ethical considerations,” Miss Withers said stiffly “In my opinion this is no time for keeping mouths shut.”

Phyllis nodded moodily “You may be right. I don’t know. I’ve always played the game according to the cards I was dealt. I told you about that the other night. But how you got to know about Tate—”

“I have my sources of information,” said Miss Withers. “But never mind that. Go on with your speech—and don’t think I am ignorant of the use of this weapon.”

“It happened on the Dragonfly,” began Phyllis. “You remember I told you that when Forrest got sick, Tate gave him a pull at his flask?”

Miss Withers nodded, and Phyllis plunged on: “Well, I happened to remember when I was talking to you at the Casino that there was something unusual about the whole thing. It wasn’t much—just a little difference. I got to thinking, and I remembered what it was. So I tried it on Tate, and he looked so scared that I knew I had something. I didn’t know and I didn’t care whether or not it had anything to do with the man’s being killed. I wanted a job in pictures, and I thought I might as well make use of my information.

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