The Case of the Drowned Pearl by Robin Stevens

Author:Robin Stevens
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780241427323
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2020-01-21T16:00:00+00:00

I thought on my feet, which is something all the best detectives must be able to do.

‘Ah, Miss Singh!’ I said. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. Mr Geck’s been looking for you.’

‘Sam?’ asked Miss Singh. ‘Why?’ She was frowning, distracted, and she looked around the room as though she hardly cared that we were there.

‘It’s because of Miss Braithwaite,’ I said, and her eyes came back to mine, and went wide and frightened.

‘What happened?’ she asked. Now, I have been a detective for several years, and I thought that an odd question. I had not said anything other than Miss Braithwaite’s name, but here was her friend, assuming the worst.

‘Oh dear,’ said Hazel, and I nudged her as hard as I could to tell her not to be wet and sorry for a suspect – for since Miss Singh was named in Antonia Braithwaite’s will, I had decided that we must add her to the suspect list, along with Mr Geck, until we could detect further.

‘Her bed hasn’t been slept in,’ said Miss Singh, pointing as she moved across the room. ‘And what on earth’s happened in the bathroom?’

‘You – you might want to sit down. I’m afraid we have some news,’ said Hazel gently. ‘Miss Braithwaite—There’s been an accident. I’m terribly sorry. She’ s – she’s dead.’

Miss Singh froze.

‘Nonsense,’ she snapped, and her eyes snapped too, sharp and black. I suddenly saw the shadow of someone else beneath the sweet politeness, someone firm and fierce. ‘Of course she’s not dead. She’s going to the Olympics next week. She can’t be dead. Who told you she was?’

‘We saw her,’ said Hazel apologetically. ‘We found the body.’

‘Nonsense!’ cried Miss Singh again, glancing at her wristwatch. ‘It’s five to eight – she’s out for her morning swim. She’ll be back at eight for breakfast, and then you’ll see!’

Hazel and I exchanged a look, and I felt delighted that the same understanding still flowed between us.

‘You know rather a lot about her schedule,’ I said.

‘Of course I do,’ said Miss Singh wildly. ‘Who do you think drew it up? Who do you think planned it all? Who d’you think manages the sponsorships and the journalists and the training? Why, Antonia hasn’t an organized bone in her body – never has, and I’ve known her since we were ten years old. If I didn’t lay out her life for her, she’d miss everything. I’m even drawing up her will for her – she’s looking through it at the moment. She went travelling without me once and it was a disaster. Not that she thanks me for it, most of the time.’

I am not ordinarily cross with myself, but I was briefly cross now. It had not occurred to me that Antonia might be tidy because someone else was tidying for her – and it ought to have done. First impressions, after all, can be misleading, and a good detective should never simply accept the obvious answer.

‘You must know her very well,’ said Hazel, still gentle.

‘She’s my best friend,’ said Miss Singh.

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