Lockridge, Frances & Richard - Murder Comes First by Murder Comes First

Author:Murder Comes First [First, Murder Comes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-01-21T00:00:00+00:00

VII

Tuesday, 10:30 A.M to 2:40 P.M.

It was all very well for dear Thelma to be superior; in almost all matters, and especially in those of real importance, she was superior, and Lucinda Whitsett had no thought of questioning a fact so immutable. I am the flighty one, Lucinda thought, and was at the same time aware that being the flighty one, the literary one, should embarrass her more than it did, or at least than it always did. It was all very well for Thelma to say “Lucinda!” in that special tone, because certainly such divagations as Lucinda was prone to would be inclined to annoy a no - nonsense person like dear Thelma. (Miss Lucinda Whitsett liked the word “divagations,” which she had read somewhere. She often thought it, although it was rather ungainly for speech.)

But all the same, Miss Lucinda thought as she hung up the telephone which had not been answered, it is worth looking into, whatever Thelma would think. Even if there is no use in taking it up with Thelma, since she’s already snorted at it, and even if dear Pamela isn’t home, and dear Gerald not at his office, one can’t just sit by and do nothing. That was what had happened in the story she’d read, the story which was really the key to all of this, and the delay which resulted was almost fatal. This time, the delay had already been fatal, if she was right, and might be again, because poor dear Thelma - -

If she had only been able to get hold of Pamela, Pamela would have known what to do. Pamela would see at once how probable the whole thing was, once you remembered the story which was a key to everything, and would then be able to take, or at any rate to advise, the proper practical steps. Thelma wouldn’t listen, already hadn’t listened; and Penny - well. Penny just wouldn’t bestir herself. Particularly as it might mean a trip out of town. It had to have happened out of town because, however ingeniously it had been done, it would by this time have revealed itself if it were a question of the city.

Of course, Miss Lucinda thought at this point, there is concrete - or am I thinking of cement? - but that would be so difficult without the proper facilities, whereas in the country it shouldn’t really be difficult at all. Once, that is, somebody nerved himself to it, which was in itself incomprehensible. Yet there were more things, as someone had told someone - Horatio? - than are easy to dream of in the everyday philosophy. One can smile and smile and be a villain still, as is vouched for by the same distinguished source. When one came down to it, there really were persons like that awful man in Dickens who always kicked his dog, and ended by killing someone. One had to face it.

It did not occur to Miss Lucinda that she might

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