The Snark was a Boojum by Gerald Verner & Chris Verner

Author:Gerald Verner & Chris Verner [Verner, Gerald & Verner, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2018-06-13T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

We set off to walk back to Hunter’s Meadow.

“I noticed you left your tea,” I mentioned.

“Tea!” he repeated, contorting his face into an expression of disgust. “Hay-water! I never touch the stuff!”

I remarked that for the amount of time we’d spent with Agnes Beaver we hadn’t got very far.

“You don’t think so, hey?” Gale gave me a quick sidelong glance. “We’re getting a picture of Franklin Gifford and it’s not so rosy—if everything Agnes Beaver said was true, and we don’t have reason to believe it was not, hey? Somebody disliked him enough to kill him, d’you see? Then there’s the money. There’s those successful investments of his . . . We’re led to believe there’s a pile of cash sitting somewhere . . .”

“Probably in his bank,” I ventured, with a smile.

“Probably!” cried Gale. “Then there’s the small matter of the will—the reason he asked you up to his flat. If he didn’t want to leave all his money to his son what changed his mind? A very important question this . . . Who does he now want to leave it to? Did you notice that flash of alarm in Miss Beaver’s eyes when I asked her why?”

“I did notice it. You’re right,” I conceded. “We’re building up a picture.”

“On the button, young feller—everyone we meet and talk to. That’s exactly what we’re doing—uncovering the layers—collecting trifles . . . Then there was that troubled expression of hers when I mentioned it had been a woman who had telephoned Baker? When I asked who she thought would engage a private detective. I’m sure she had a pretty good idea, but she refused to divulge. Then there was that glass cabinet,” Gale went on, increasing the length of his stride so that I had difficulty in keeping pace with him.

“The thimble collection . . . Isn’t that the strangest coincidence? They sought it with thimbles . . .” he quoted. “And Agnes Beaver with her thimbles is wittingly or unwittingly helping us hunt the Snark!”

I made up my mind. “Slow down a moment,” I called to him, so I could speak normally instead of shouting. “Did you know Zoe’s family owns Anderson Soap?”

“I wondered when you were going to tell me,” he growled.

“How did you know?”

“Ursula told me,” answered Gale. “I think at one time she was a little envious of your Zoe’s wealth.”

My Zoe? I smiled to myself. I rather liked the sound of that . . .

Gale went on: “Maybe that’s one reason she married old Bellman. To even up the score . . .”

“You don’t think there’s anything in it do you? They charmed it with smiles and soap?”

Gale roared with laughter. “Well young feller, she does have a charming smile and she’s got plenty of soap! We’ll have to wait and see . . .”

Gale picked up the pace again and we lapsed into silence. In spite of Gale’s assurances that he would make it all right with Joshua Bellman I wasn’t so convinced. With every yard that brought us nearer to the house I grew guiltier like a boy skiving off school.

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