Free Death in a Family Way by Gwendolyn Southin

up to leave.
    â€œAt this minute—no,” Farthing replied. “But
we’ll
be the ones finding out. Is that clear?” He reached for the telephone. “I take it you know where the duty office is?”
    â€œJackass!” Nat Southby said under his breath as they walked down the dark corridor.
    â€œHe certainly seems to have it in for you,” Maggie answered quietly.
    â€œYeah! I can’t quite figure out why, though. After all, he stepped into a damn good job when I left. Think he’d be pleased.”
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    PHILLIP COLLINS WAS WAITING for them when they arrived back at the office. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you.”
    Nat led the way inside. “What can I do for you?”
    â€œI’ve decided to call off your investigation.”
    â€œYou’ve found your boat?”
    â€œNo, but my wife feels that Larry will turn up soon. Like he always does.”
    â€œWell, it’s up to you, Collins. But the boat’s been missing now for nearly ten days. That’s a helluva spree, isn’t it?”
    â€œI’ll pay you for your time so far.”
    â€œWhat did you say your boat’s worth? Twenty grand? And you’re suddenly not worried about it?”
    â€œThat’s none of your business,” Collins answered. “I said I want to drop the case.” He arose from his chair and took out his cheque book and a gold pen. “How much do I owe you?” Nat named his figure, Collins wrote out a cheque and was gone a few moments later.
    From the window they watched him get into his car.
    â€œOf course!” she cried suddenly. “That’s what’s been bothering me.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThe car. Collins’ car. I’ve seen it before.”
    â€œOf course you have. It’s the same one he was driving last week.”
    â€œI know that. But it was also at Violet Larkfield’s. You know, last Friday when I went to her house. That car was in the driveway.”
    â€œThere have to be a dozen Jaguars in this town.”
    â€œNot silver-grey ones. I’m sure that’s the same car I saw leaving Violet Larkfield’s driveway.”
    â€œAre you sure? Listen, Maggie, you’ve been through a rough few days,” he said in a placating tone that only infuriated her. “You could be a mite overwrought and getting things a bit mixed up.”
    â€œMister
Southby,” Maggie said witheringly, “I saw that car at Violet Larkfield’s,
and,
by the way, I also saw the cat basket that Ernie had returned.” She turned, sat down at her typewriter and began pounding furiously.
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    THAT EVENING MARGARET WAITED until she’d finished washing the supper dishes and she and Harry were seated by the livingroom fire, having coffee, before she told him about her job.
    â€œBut I don’t understand, Margaret. Why?”
    â€œThere has to be something more to life than this, Harry.”
    â€œI’ve tried to give you everything you wanted, haven’t I?”
    â€œYes, but . . .”
    â€œI’ve spent the last twenty-five years trying to make you happy.” Harry slowly stirred his coffee and raised the cup to his trembling lips, and then put it down again. “Look at all the gadgets I’ve bought you for the kitchen. Even a car of your own.”
    â€œListen, Harry, please just
listen
to me, for God’s sake. I need more than gadgets. I need to use my brain.”
    â€œWhat about volunteer work? The Girl Guides are always short of leaders.” He picked up his cup and raised it to his lips again. “Look at Fuller’s wife; she rolls bandages or something for the cancer people and helps part-time mending books in the library. Sometimes, according to Fuller, they even have her reading to the little ones. You could make yourself useful like that, couldn’t you?”
    â€œI like what