Two and Two Make Twenty-Two by Gwen Bristow & Bruce Manning

Author:Gwen Bristow & Bruce Manning
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2021-11-16T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Beans whistled. “That cottage would make a swell place for a cigar store,” he said under his breath. “Everybody goes by there.”

Brett raised his hand for silence. “You say you saw Mrs. Cupping go in the front door of Barclay’s cottage?”

“Yes,” answered Cupping, with threatening righteousness.

Imogen was glowering. Cupping stirred uncomfortably. Daisy marked up a three-base hit for Judith.

“And it’s my theory,” Cupping amended loudly, “that whoever murdered Linton Barclay had robbery for a motive.”

(‘Anything will do,’ thought Daisy, ‘except what that old codger probably still calls the eternal triangle.’)

Foster was looking up with mischievous amusement. “So you’re in the same boat with the rest of us, Mr. Cupping! I only meant to suggest,” he added hastily as Cupping began to splutter, “that we must not forget Mrs. Cupping’s account of the woman who quarreled with Mr. Barclay.”

“Oh, he’s going to eliminate the woman angle now,” Judith suggested softly. “Aren’t you, Mr. Cupping? You see, it depends on who the woman is.”

Cupping turned his back to her and addressed himself to Brett. “We have not even tried to find out if Barclay was robbed.”

“Well, I didn’t steal anything from him,” Judith put in with venomous meekness, “and thank goodness,” she added clearly to Foster, “he wasn’t trying to steal anything from me.”

“If Major Raymond was associated with Mr. Barclay in a business deal,” suggested Foster, “maybe he can tell us whether or not Barclay had anything with him worth stealing.”

(‘So now,’ Daisy told herself, ‘we turn the game into cops and robbers. Convenient for Cupping.’) The Major shrugged. “He usually carried a good deal of cash.”

Brett looked at the report in his hand. “We’ll go into the robbery theory shortly. According to Miss Meade, Mr. Cupping, you returned to the clubhouse ten minutes after your wife.”

“Yes—she was here when I got in.” Cupping thrust his hands into his pockets. He was struggling for poise and doing pretty well under the circumstances, Daisy thought.

“And while you were out, you saw Mrs. Cupping both enter and leave Barclay’s cottage.”

“I said,” answered Cupping meticulously, “that I saw her enter. I didn’t exactly see her leave, but I know she left by the front door—that is, I know it by what’s already been said by the others.”

“Did you come directly here from the cottage?” Brett asked.

“I—er—yes, I did. Yes.” Cupping swallowed. “But I must say, sir, that I think all these embarrassing questions are beside the point. My conviction has been and still is that somebody tried to rob Barclay and Barclay got killed trying to protect his property. I can’t see the use of all this prying into my affairs, sir.” He was fairly squirming under Imogen’s furious regard.

Daisy cocked up an eyebrow and wondered what was hidden in the Cupping woodpile, but her reflection was interrupted by Brett’s voice. “We shall be glad to consider your theory, Mr. Cupping. We can go down to the cottage and see if Mr. Barclay had any valuable property there.” He glanced understanding^ from Imogen

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