The Hangmans Tree by Disney Dorothy Cameron

Author:Disney, Dorothy Cameron [Disney, Dorothy Cameron]
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1949-05-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

I INTENDED TO GET off to Harmony early in the morning. Unfortunately, I overslept. I was so eager to be about my business and so very anxious to keep my business to myself that I decided to go without a badly needed cup of coffee. I hurried into my clothes, went quickly and quietly downstairs. There were voices in the drawing-room, but I got safely through the foyer and outside on the piazza.

As I closed the door in haste, one of my favorite gloves fell over the piazza railing and dropped into a camellia bush below. To my annoyance, I discovered a moment later that the thick glistening foliage of the tall shrub which stood guard at the steps had completely swallowed up the glove. I shook the bush, without result. Nervous and impatient, I jerked the branches apart, thrust in my arm and groped for the fugitive.

I found my glove. I also touched something else, which lay on the damp cool ground at the base of the bush. Before I saw my find, I identified it by touch. My hurry and impatience died. Very slowly, I pulled out Rena Mae’s missing purse.

I understood at once how the crocheted purse happened to be in the bush. The pangs of death upon her, Rena Mae had staggered through the garden, reached the foot of the piazza steps and seized the railing to drag herself upward. The purse had slipped from her fingers, fallen in the bush and out of sight. She probably hadn’t even missed it. The purse might have lain undiscovered in its léafy hideaway for days or even weeks.

This wasn’t planted evidence.

The sacklike purse was heavy. I undid the drawstring, looked inside. The Mauser pistol wasn’t there.

There was a half-empty package of cigarettes, a tin of aspirin, a comb that needed cleaning. At the bottom of the sack was a loose collection of change, a twenty-dollar bill, . a five-dollar bill, three crumpled one-dollar bills. A handsome metal vanity case, inscribed with Rena Mae’s name and the date she’d received it, accounted for the weight of the purse.

I took out the case, opened it. She had never filled the powder compartment. The flat puff was pristine in its newness. The metal mirror sparkled in the sun, reflecting the piazza steps behind. On the opposite side of the case, tucked into the powder compartment, was a packet of hundred-dollar bills. There were ten of the bills. The bills had come fresh and new from the bank, and still wore a paper halter. On Saturday, Stephen had borrowed from Maggie the sum of one thousand dollars. Maggie had got the money from the bank. The whole transaction must be a matter of record. Well, I couldn’t help it.

Whatever else my conscience might allow me to do, I couldn’t keep this evidence from Sanford Clayton. It was impossible. He had to know about this. I couldn’t steal his dead cousin’s purse.

I started to close the case. And then I looked into the tilting mirror.

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