Free Who Killed Charmian Karslake? by Annie Haynes Page A

going to be pretty frank with you. Do you think the Miss Lotty Carslake you knew in Hepton could possibly be this poor Charmian Karslake who lies dead at the Abbey?”
    â€œBless my soul! I do not think so,” the doctor said emphatically.
    Yet the inspector fancied that there was something that did not ring quite true in his voice.
    â€œThis poor thing was an American, wasn’t she? And exceptionally beautiful. Now, none of the Carslakes could lay claim to anything remarkable in the way of good looks.”
    â€œIs that so? But this girl might have improved considerably after leaving Hepton, mightn’t she?” The inspector watched the doctor’s face carefully. “As for being an American, so much was given out in the Press. But I find that practically nothing seems to be known of her antecedents. She was playing small parts – extremely small parts – in New York three years ago, when the illness of one of the principals gave her her chance, and she leapt at once to fame and fortune. But I may tell you in confidence – in strict confidence – Dr. Brett, that we have some ground for thinking that Charmian Karslake had some previous knowledge of Hepton, and that it was this knowledge that made her accept Lady Penn-Moreton’s invitation to come down for the ball.”
    â€œDear, dear, is that so?” The doctor’s face looked troubled. “But if she was a Hepton girl it does not follow that she was little Lotty Carslake. I altogether refuse to believe that she was. Carslake’s not an uncommon name.”
    â€œNot so common as Brown, Jones and Robinson,” Stoddart rejoined. “But I am afraid that I must ask you to come with me to the Abbey now, Dr. Brett. I want to know whether you recognize this dead Charmian Karslake.”
    â€œIs this really necessary?” Neither the doctor’s tone nor his expression was indicative of any willingness to undertake the task.
    â€œAbsolutely,” the inspector replied, getting up. “Now, if you please, Dr. Brett.”
    â€œI suppose I have no choice,” the doctor said reluctantly.
    â€œNo choice at all,” the inspector said decidedly.

CHAPTER 6
    The private chapel at the Abbey, half-ruined now, had not been part of the original structure, but had been built by the Penn-Moretons when the Abbey Church had become the Parish Church of Hepton. On one side of the chancel was the Priests’ Vestry. It was here, as a temporary mortuary, that poor Charmian Karslake’s body had been taken. It lay on a long trestle-table in the middle of the room. Kindly hands had thrown a sheet over the body and had laid a white veil on the face, but otherwise it was untouched and clothed just as it had been found.
    Thither Inspector Stoddart conveyed Dr. Brett, much against that gentleman’s will. Police and plainclothes men were stationed all round the Abbey and at the door of the private chapel, but the men stood aside and saluted as they saw the inspector and his companion.
    â€œYou have allowed no one to enter, Barnes?” the inspector questioned sharply.
    â€œNo, sir. Her ladyship’s maid, she came and wanted to put a lot of flowers here, but I told her it was not allowed unless you gave permission, sir.”
    â€œQuite right,” the inspector said approvingly.
    Accustomed as Dr. Brett must surely have been to scenes of death, he was distinctly paler as he followed the inspector into the vestry and up to the silent form that lay on the trestles in the middle of the room.
    Very reverently the detective laid back the covering from the dead face. Dr. Brett gazed at it long and earnestly, bending forward to see more closely after the first moment. The golden hair had been smoothed back, but it still waved round the waxen face. The deep blue eyes refused to be closed and the lips were still parted. She still wore the yellow underclothing and the white dressing-gown in which she had been