They Walk in Darkness (Peter Chard Book 2) by Gerald Verner

Author:Gerald Verner [Verner, Gerald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-03-06T22:00:00+00:00

PART THREE

THE COVEN

‘We have made a covenant with death, and with hell are we at agreement.’

Isaiah xxviii. 15.

Chapter One

The inquest brought everybody in the district, who was able to get there, flocking to the village hall on the following morning. It brought, also, a sprinkling of people who were not of the district: several newspaper reporters and two elderly, grave-faced solicitors whose names the industrious Odds had discovered among the effects of the late Robin Mallory and Fay Bennett, respectively, and notified by telephone of the tragic deaths of their clients. He had been unable to do the same in the case of André Severac for the simple reason that he had either not employed a lawyer, or had kept no record of his name and address. Mrs. Sowerby was there looking very important in her Sunday best, tightly clutching her subpœna and whispering volubly to Mrs. Bossom and Rose Higgs. Felix Courtland, in a heavy fur-lined overcoat, and muffled up to the eyes, was there, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else, and the Reverend Gilbert Ray was there. Inspector Donaldson was there with Superintendent Odds, but there was no sign of the nondescript Sergeant Porter, or Sergeant Quilt. Peter, who had got there early with Ann so that he could watch the inhabitants arrive, saw Mr. and Miss Tittleton come in and almost immediately after them a shambling figure with a head that appeared several sizes too big for it and wearing an overcoat that reached down to its heels. The vacant, foolish face turned towards him, and he nudged Ann.

‘Look,’ he whispered, ‘that’s the chap who nearly walked under the wheels of my car. It must be Twist . . .’

‘That was Colonel Shoredust’s chief suspect, wasn’t it?’ she murmured, and he nodded.

‘Yes. What do you think of him?’

‘I feel rather sorry for him,’ she answered, watching the ungainly figure. ‘I always feel sorry for people like that. There’s no reason to, I believe. They are usually quite happy — far happier than anyone with a normal intellect. But it seems rather sad, I think — a grown man, or woman, with the mind of a child. I wouldn’t say he was the person you’re looking for, Peter. It’s not that type of lunacy that murders children . . .’

‘I think I agree with you,’ said Peter. ‘There’s Sherwood and his wife . . .’ He signalled to them and they came over.

‘I hear you are coming to dinner tonight?’ said April, smiling, and looking very pretty in a short fur coat over a black suit. ‘Anthony told me he’d invited you both . . .’

‘We’re looking forward to it,’ said Ann. She had taken an instant liking to this dark girl with the grave eyes and the humorous mouth when she had first met her at Miss Wymondham’s, in the same way as she had taken an instant dislike to Laura Courtland. There was something very genuine and sincere about April Sherwood. She took

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