Free The Seven Dials Mystery by Agatha Christie Page B

headquarters for some secret society. As he says in his letter to you. He thought it rather a joke to start with. But evidently it wasn’t a joke—he says as much. And there’s something else: his anxiety that you should forget what he’s told you. There can be only one reason for that—if that society suspected that you had any knowledge of its activity, you too would be in danger. Gerald realized the peril, and he was terribly anxious—for you.”
    He stopped, then he went on quietly:
    â€œI rather fancy that we’re all going to be in danger—if we go on with this.”
    â€œIf—?” cried Bundle indignantly.
    â€œI’m talking of you two. It’s different for me. I was poor old Ronny’s pal.” He looked at Bundle. “You’ve done your bit. You’ve delivered the message he sent me. No; for God’s sake keep out of it, you and Loraine.”
    Bundle looked questioningly at the other girl. Her own mind was definitely made up, but she gave no indication of it just then. She had no wish to push Loraine Wade into a dangerous undertaking.
    But Loraine’s small face was alight at once with indignation.
    â€œYou say that! Do you think for one minute I’d be contented to keep out of it—when they killed Gerry—my own dear Gerry, the best and dearest and kindest brother any girl ever had. The only person belonging to me I had in the whole world!”
    Jimmy cleared his throat uncomfortably. Loraine, he thought, was wonderful; simply wonderful.
    â€œLook here,” he said awkwardly. “You mustn’t say that. About being alone in the world—all that rot. You’ve got lots of friends—only too glad to do what they can. See what I mean?”
    It is possible that Loraine did, for she suddenly blushed, and to cover her confusion began to talk nervously.
    â€œThat’s settled,” she said. “I’m going to help. Nobody’s going to stop me.”
    â€œAnd so am I, of course,” said Bundle.
    They both looked at Jimmy.
    â€œYes,” he said slowly. “Yes, quite so.”
    They looked at him inquiringly.
    â€œI was just wondering,” said Jimmy, “how we were going to begin.”

Nine
    P LANS
    J immy’s words lifted the discussion at once into a more practical sphere.
    â€œAll things considered,” he said, “we haven’t got much to go on. In fact, just the words Seven Dials. As a matter of fact I don’t even know exactly where Seven Dials is. But, anyway, we can’t very well comb out the whole of that district, house by house.”
    â€œWe could,” said Bundle.
    â€œWell, perhaps we could eventually—though I’m not so sure. I imagine it’s a well-populated area. But it wouldn’t be very subtle.”
    The word reminded him of the girl Socks and he smiled.
    â€œThen, of course, there’s the part of the country where Ronny was shot. We could nose around there. But the police are probably doing everything we could do, and doing it much better.”
    â€œWhat I like about you,” said Bundle sarcastically, “is your cheerful and optimistic disposition.”
    â€œNever mind her, Jimmy,” said Loraine softly. “Go on.”
    â€œDon’t be so impatient,” said Jimmy to Bundle. “All the best sleuths approach a case this way, by eliminating unnecessary and unprofitable investigation. I’m coming now to the third alternative—Gerald’s death. Now that we know it was murder—by the way, you do both believe that, don’t you?”
    â€œYes,” said Loraine.
    â€œYes,” said Bundle.
    â€œGood. So do I. Well, it seems to me that there we do stand some faint chance. After all, if Gerry didn’t take the chloral himself, someone must have got into his room and put it there—dissolved it in the glass of water, so that when he woke up he drank it off. And of course left