Free Coroner's Pidgin by Margery Allingham Page B

then,” said Onyer, and glanced at Mr. Campion, whose presence had become a responsibility to him. “I feel I got you here on false pretences,” he said uncomfortably, “I didn’t know they knew about it being so serious. Honestly, I don’t like the look of things now, do you? That old boy means well, and will certainly stir up the police, but do we really
want
that?”
    He looked so serious that Campion smiled. “It will add to the excitement,” he suggested.
    â€œI know.” Onyer’s gloom increased. “Not that anyone here has much to fear, naturally, unless . . . Look here, Campion, I don’t know much about these things, but isn’t there a very good charge against Edna already? I mean, you can’t go moving bodies about like that, can you?”
    â€œIt could be thought over-enthusiastic,” said Mr. Campion.
    â€œYou don’t think they might have arrested her already?”
    â€œMy dear chap, don’t ask me.”
    â€œGood heavens.” Onyer was visibly paler. “What a hellof a family this is to look after,” he said bitterly. “I’d better go over right away. You—er—you won’t feel like coming, will you?”
    As an invitation it was not pressing, and Mr. Campion declined gracefully. Ricky and Captain Gold had disappeared, and when the Onyers went off together he found himself alone with Miss Chivers, who was busy with a telephone directory.
    â€œIt’s all got to be cancelled, you see,” she said. “Would you believe it? I’ve been working on this wedding for three weeks and now I’ve got to undo everything at speed. Peter Onyer’s right, it’s a hell of a family to look after.”
    It was clear that she was very busy, but Campion did not move. He sat for a time watching her jot down telephone numbers, her big, well-modelled head bent over her work.
    â€œDid that rose come from the house?” he enquired suddenly.
    She closed the book, and looked at him across the small table at which she was working.
    â€œThe rose?” she repeated vaguely. “Oh,
that
. My dear man, don’t take any notice of that. That’s nothing.”
    â€œI thought it odd,” said Mr. Campion.
    â€œDid you?” She was laughing. “Hang around here for a bit, and you’ll see odder things than that.”
    He did not move, and presently she seemed to take pity on him. Her broad, open face was alight with amusement.
    â€œThey’re all cuckoo, always have been,” she said indulgently. “Of course the rose came from the junk cupboard downstairs; Gwenda sent it, I should think.”
    â€œMrs. Onyer? Why?”
    â€œI don’t know. Why does anyone do anything in this outfit? Perhaps she didn’t. Perhaps she put Ricky up to it, or perhaps he thought it out himself. They’re like that, don’t take any notice of them. It didn’t mean a thing.”
    Still he sat looking at her. She was so strong and intelligent-looking that her statements carried conviction in spite of their unexpectedness.
    â€œIt didn’t look like a joke,” he objected after a pause.
    â€œPerhaps it wasn’t one,” said Dolly Chivers dryly.
    â€œWhat would you say it was?” he persisted.
    â€œI? I shouldn’t mention it or even notice it.” She glanced down at her work and then back at him, her fine, hard eyes suddenly determined. “You don’t understand at all, do you?” she said, with a vehemence which surprised him. “I don’t know if I can explain, or even if I ought to, but you can take it from me that when you get a clever, hypersensitive crowd like this all living together round one big personality, little jealousies and little affections do take on enormous proportions. No one liked Johnny marrying, you know. For some of them it must have seemed like the end of the world.”
    â€œEspecially for Mrs.