Daisy Dalrymple 18 - Sheer Folly by Carola Dunn

Author:Carola Dunn [Dunn, Carola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Historical
ISBN: 9780312387754
Google: Y7FumAEACAAJ
Amazon: B005ZO6K50
Goodreads: 6437858
Publisher: Minotaur Books
Published: 2009-09-14T22:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

Daisy was brushing her hair when she heard a tap at the door.

“Come in!”

It was a very young housemaid, her eyes bright with excitement and a touch of apprehension. “Mr. Pritchard says can you come down, madam. He wants to talk to you. Mr. Endicott’s here. He’s the p’liceman from the village, madam. It’s about her ladyship—Lady Ottaline that is—and the ’splosion. He’s ever so upset, madam, Mr. Endicott is.” She chattered on.

Daisy wondered if Pritchard considered that being married to a policeman must make her an expert at soothing members of that profession. On the contrary, she recalled numerous episodes tending to confirm the reverse. Not that she intended to tell Pritchard that she was more likely to exacerbate Constable Endicott’s annoyance than to calm it.

“Please tell Mr. Pritchard I’ll be down in a minute.”

The girl left. Daisy gave her curls a final whisk of the brush and put on lipstick to give herself courage. Her experience of past battles with Superintendent Crane of the Metropolitan Police, some won, some lost, were no help when it came to facing an irate village bobby.

But when she reached the hall, she found PC Endicott bewildered, not angry. The round-faced young man, helmet in hand, was saying piteously to Pritchard, “You see, Mr. Pritchard, sir, there ben’t nuthen in the handbook about explosions.”

“So you’ve already told me, Constable.” More than once, to judge by Pritchard’s face. “Ah, Mrs. Fletcher! This is PC Endicott. His sergeant is down with pleurisy, and he can’t make up his mind whether he ought to notify his superiors in Swindon or not.”

Daisy tried to decide what Alec would prefer. Bringing in the Swindon brass hats without telling them he was from the Met was out of the question, certain to cause trouble. Honesty, though not always the best policy, was advisable in this case.

On second thoughts, not just yet. “I should think, Mr. Endicott, your best course would be to go out to the scene of the disaster and find out exactly what happened. Then you can decide whether it should be reported or not.”

The harried look lifted from Endicott’s face. “Aye, thet’ll be best. Thank ’ee kindly, ma’am.”

“If you hurry, you can catch up with the lads from the village,” Pritchard suggested.

Barker was miraculously on hand to show the constable to the back door.

“Just what I would have suggested, Mrs. Fletcher,” said Pritchard. “Masterly inaction.”

“Why didn’t you, then?”

“I wanted to be sure you concurred. I didn’t want to make trouble for your husband by either giving information unnecessarily or witholding it. Now it’s up to him to make the decisions.”

“Usually the best course.” Daisy sighed. “Don’t they say it’s a sign of growing old when policemen start to look like schoolboys?”

Pritchard’s eyes twinkled. “I’d always heard the same of doctors.”

“Oh, that’s all right then. Dr. Tenby doesn’t look at all like a schoolboy to me.”

“More like an undertaker,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. “But hush, here he comes. How is your patient doing, Tenby?”

“Bad bruising. No concussion.

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