Free Arrow Pointing Nowhere by Elizabeth Daly

overheard, Mr. Gamadge, because nobody in the house thinks that there’s anything to overhear. Only Caroline knows that I have suspicions, and she doesn’t imagine the worst of them.”
    â€œIf you have suspicions, there must be at least one suspect; a suspect may have an uneasy conscience. I’ll stay comfortably here, if it’s all the same to you.”
    â€œNot quite the same to me as having you opposite me in front of the fire. However, I’m in no position to bully you; I’m about to ask a favor.” He moved a chair to face Gamadge, and sat down.

CHAPTER SIX

House Divided
    T HE FIRE HAD DIED to red embers. Fenway put out a long, delicate-looking hand towards it, crossed one long leg over the other knee, and contemplated Gamadge thoughtfully. At last he said: “I’m hoping that this may turn out to be a business proposition; if I didn’t have that hope I shouldn’t have the colossal cheek to take up your time.”
    â€œVery glad to be of service, if I can be.”
    â€œI myself, of course, have no money at all. I’m a pauper, the clothes on my back and the loose change in my pocket provided for me by my cousin Blake. You will guess the sort of person he is when I say that neither of us ever thinks of the obligation. But I can’t pay your doubtless high fees. However, I can promise you that Caroline will, if you’re inclined to help us.”
    â€œLet me understand you, Mr. Fenway. Has Miss Fenway asked you to consult me about the plate that was torn out of the book of views?”
    â€œGood Heavens; no; she doesn’t dream that I’m consulting you. I didn’t think of doing so until I had had a chance to—er— study you a little this afternoon. Your books prepared me to find you very competent, but one cannot always judge a man’s—er—code of manners from the books he writes, can one?”
    Gamadge said, laughing, that one certainly could not.
    â€œThere is a certain disloyalty to Blake, of course, in taking you into my confidence; or would be if I didn’t feel that I could trust you with a lot of family stuff that Blake would never confide to anybody. He’s very reticent, sensitive, clannish, you know. I have told you what I owe my cousin, or part of what I owe him. I’ve known him since he was born—I knew Cort—and we have the same background and the same memories. But I am not—” he smiled—“in the best Fenway tradition, as you see. However: there is Caroline to be considered too. One can always tell whether young people resent one’s presence in a house or not.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œCaroline has always wanted me here and at Fenbrook. We are in sympathy, we get on; we have more in common, I’m afraid, than she and her father have, devoted though they are. She gave up a good deal to be with him, you know—her own independent life. I owe her something, and in doing what I’m doing now I am serving her. If we find that picture, Mr. Gamadge, she’ll pay your bill—anything you care to ask. She hasn’t her own fortune yet, won’t have it until her father dies, but she has a certain amount of money from her mother, and could get more.”
    Gamadge said: “This kind of investigation is really a hobby of mine, Mr. Fenway; I’m not a licensed detective, I have no facilities, and I can’t promise results. If I could manage to be of assistance to you and Miss Fenway I shouldn’t dream of taking money for the job.”
    â€œBut you must be an extremely busy man; why should you come to the assistance of comparative strangers for nothing?”
    â€œWell, I like a puzzle.”
    â€œThat is fortunate for us. If I’m to put this one fairly before you, I must begin with those indiscretions I hinted at. Perhaps you don’t need to be told that this household is divided into two camps?”
    Gamadge looked