The Clocks, стр. 34
They looked at each other but not in a conspiratorial manner. It seemed to be merely vague conjecture.
‘She was always worried about something,’ said Maureen. ‘She gets things muddled up, and makes mistakes. She was a bit slow in the uptake.’
‘Things always seemed to happen to Edna,’ said the giggler. ‘Remember when that stiletto heel of hers came off the other day? Just the sort of thing thatwould happen to Edna.’
‘I remember,’ said Hardcastle.
He remembered how the girl had stood looking down ruefully at the shoe in her hand.
‘You know, I had a feeling something awful had happened this afternoon when Edna didn’t get here at two o’clock,’ said Janet. She nodded with a solemn face.
Hardcastle looked at her with some dislike. He always disliked people who were wise after the event. He was quite sure that the girl in question had thought nothing of the kind. Far more likely, he thought to himself, that she had said, ‘Edna will catch it from Sandy Cat when she does come in.’
‘When did you hear what had happened?’ he asked again.
They looked at each other. The giggler flushed guiltily. Her eyes shot sideways to the door into Miss Martindale’s private office.
‘Well, I-er-I just slipped out for a minute,’ she said. ‘I wanted some pastries to take home and I knew they’d all be gone by the time we left. And when I got to the shop-it’s on the corner and they know me quite well there-the woman said, “She worked at your place, didn’t she, ducks?” and I said, “Who do you mean?” And then she said, “This girl they’ve just found dead in a telephone box.” Oh, it gave me ever such a turn! So I came rushing back and I told the others and in the end we all said we’d have to tell Miss Martindale about it, and just at that moment she came bouncing out of her office and said to us, “Nowwhat are you doing? Not a single typewriter going.” ’
The fair girl took up the saga.
‘And I said, “Really it’s notour fault. We’ve heard some terrible news about Edna, Miss Martindale.” ’
‘And what did Miss Martindale say or do?’
‘Well, she wouldn’t believe it at first,’ said the brunette. ‘She said, “Nonsense. You’ve just been picking up some silly gossip in a shop. It must be some other girl. Why should it be Edna?” And she marched back into her room and rang up the police station and found out itwas true.’
‘But I don’t see,’ said Janet almost dreamily, ‘I don’t see whyanyone should want to kill Edna.’
‘It’s not as though she had a boy or anything,’ said the brunette.
All three looked at Hardcastle hopefully as though he could give them the answer to the problem. He sighed. There was nothing here for him. Perhaps one of the other girls might be more helpful. And there was Sheila Webb herself.
‘Were Sheila Webb and Edna Brent particular friends?’ he asked.
They looked at each other vaguely.
‘Not special, I don’t think.’
‘Where is Miss Webb, by the way?’
He was told that Sheila Webb was at the Curlew Hotel, attending on Professor Purdy.
Chapter 19
Professor Purdy sounded irritated as he broke off dictating and answered the telephone.
‘Who? What? You mean he is herenow? Well, ask him if tomorrow will do?-Oh, very well-very well-Tell him to come up.’
‘Always something,’ he said with vexation. ‘How can one ever be expected to do any serious work with these constant interruptions.’ He looked with mild displeasure at Sheila Webb and said: ‘Now where were we, my dear?’
Sheila was about to reply when there was a knock at the door. Professor Purdy brought himself back with some difficulty from the chronological difficulties of approximately three thousand years ago.
‘Yes?’ he said testily, ‘yes, come in, what is it? I may say I mentioned particularly that I wasnot to be disturbed this afternoon.’
‘I’m very sorry, sir, very sorry indeed that it has been necessary to do so. Good evening, Miss Webb.’
Sheila Webb had risen to her feet, setting aside her note-book. Hardcastle wondered if he only fancied that he saw sudden apprehension come into her eyes.
‘Well, what is it?’ said the professor again, sharply.
‘I am Detective Inspector Hardcastle, as Miss Webb here will tell you.’
‘Quite,’ said the professor. ‘Quite.’
‘What I really wanted was a few words with Miss Webb.’
‘Can’t you wait? It is reallymost awkward at this moment. Most awkward. We were just at a critical point. Miss Webb will be disengaged in about a quarter of an hour-oh, well, perhaps half an hour. Something like that. Oh, dear me, is it six o’clockalready?’
‘I’m very sorry, Professor Purdy,’ Hardcastle’s tone was firm.
‘Oh, very well, very well. What is it-some motoring offence, I suppose? How very officious these traffic wardens are. One insisted the other day that I had left my car four and a half hours at a parking meter. I’m sure that could not possibly be so.’
‘It’s a little more serious than a parking offence, sir.’
‘Oh, yes. Oh, yes. And you don’t have a car, do you, my dear?’ He looked vaguely at Sheila Webb. ‘Yes, I remember, you come here by bus. Well, Inspector, what is it?’
‘It’s about a girl called Edna Brent.’ He turned to Sheila Webb. ‘I expect you’ve heard about it.’
She stared at him. Beautiful eyes. Cornflower-blue eyes. Eyes that reminded him of someone.
‘Edna Brent, did you say?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, yes, I know her, of course. What about her?’
‘I see the news hasn’t got to you yet. Where did you lunch, Miss Webb?’
Colour came up in her cheeks.
‘I lunched with a friend at the Ho Tung restaurant, if-if it’s really any business of yours.’
‘You didn’t go on afterwards to the office?’
‘To the Cavendish Bureau, you mean? I called in there and was told it had been arranged that I was to come straight here to Professor Purdy at half past two.’
‘That’s right,’ said the professor, nodding his head. ‘Half past two. And we have been working here ever since. Ever since. Dear me, I should have ordered tea. I am very sorry, Miss Webb, I’m afraid you must have missed having your tea. You should have reminded me.’
‘Oh, it didn’t matter, Professor Purdy, it didn’t matter at all.’
‘Very remiss of me,’ said the professor, ‘very remiss. But there. I mustn’t interrupt, since the inspector wants to ask you some questions.’
‘So you don’t know what’s happened to Edna Brent?’
‘Happenedto her?’ asked Sheila, sharply, her voice rising. ‘Happened to her? What do you mean? Has she had an accident or something-been run over?’
‘Very dangerous, all this speeding,’ put in the professor.
‘Yes,’ said Hardcastle, ‘something’s happened to her.’ He paused and then said, putting it as brutally as possible, ‘She was strangled about half past twelve, in a telephone box.’
‘In a telephone box?’ said the professor, rising to the occasion by showing some interest.
Sheila Webb said nothing. She stared at him. Her mouth opened slightly, her eyes widened. ‘Either this is the first you’ve heard of it or you’re a damn’ good actress,’ thought Hardcastle to himself.
‘Dear, dear,’ said the professor. ‘Strangled in a telephone box. That seemsvery extraordinary to me. Very extraordinary. Not the sort of place I would choose myself. I mean, if I were to do such a thing. No, indeed. Well, well. Poor girl. Most unfortunate for her.’
‘Edna-killed! But why?’
‘Did you know, Miss Webb, that Edna Brent was very anxious to see you the day before yesterday, that she came to your aunt’s house, and waited for some time for you to come back?’
‘My fault again,’ said the professor guiltily. ‘I kept Miss Webb very late that evening, I remember. Very late indeed. I really still feel very apologetic about it. Youmust always remind me of the time, my dear. You really must.’