Free Look to the Lady by Margery Allingham Page A

earth did she want to go wandering about at night for?’
    Penny shuddered and suddenly covered her face with her hands.
    â€˜Oh, Val,’ she said, ‘did you see her? I was the first to go down into the hall this morning when Will and his son brought her in on a hurdle. That look on her face – I shall never forget it. She saw something dreadful, Val. She died of fright.’
    The boy put his arm round her and shook her almost roughly.
    â€˜Don’t think of it,’ he said. ‘She’d got a bad heart and she died, that’s all. It’s nothing to do with – with the other thing.’
    But there was no conviction in his tone and the girl was not comforted, realizing that he spoke as much to reassure himself as to soothe her.
    Their nerves were so taut that a tap on the door made them both start violently. It opened immediately to admit old Doctor Cobden, the man who had brought them both into the world, and whose word had been the ultimate court of appeal ever since they could remember.
    He was a large, benign old gentleman with closely cropped white hair and immense white eyebrows and he was dressed in an unconventional rough tweed suit fitting snugly to his rotund form.
    He advanced across the room, hand outstretched, exuding a faint aroma of iodoform as he came.
    â€˜Val, my boy, I’m glad to see you,’ he said. ‘You couldn’t have come back at a better time. Your father and the estate have needed you very much lately, but never so much as now.’ He turned to Penny and patted her hand gently as it lay in his own. ‘Pull yourself together, my dear,’ he said. ‘It’s been a shock, I know, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’m glad I found you two alone. I wanted to have a chat. Your father, good man, is not much assistance in an emergency.’
    He spoke briskly and with a forthrightness that they had learned to respect. Val shot him a glance under his eyelashes.
    â€˜There’ll have to be an inquest, I suppose, sir?’ he said.
    Doctor Cobden took out a pair of pince-nez and rubbed them contemplatively with an immense white handkerchief.
    â€˜Why no, Val. I don’t think that’ll be necessary, as it happens,’ he said. ‘I’m the coroner of this district, don’t you know. And whereas I should perhaps have felt it was my duty to inquire into your aunt’s death if I hadn’t been in attendance on her quite so often lately, I really don’t see any need to go into it all again.’ He paused and regarded them solemnly. ‘There was always a danger, of course. Any severe shock might have aggravated this aortic regurgitation, don’t you know, but she was a nervy creature, poor soul, and I never saw any reason to frighten her.’
    â€˜But, Doctor, something did frighten her. Her face –’ Penny could not restrain the outburst. The old man’s mottled face took on a slightly deeper tone of red.
    â€˜My dear,’ he said, ‘death is often ugly. I’m sorry you should have had to see your aunt. Of course,’ he went on hastily as he saw the doubt in their eyes, ‘she must have
had
a shock, don’t you know. Probably saw an owl or trod on a rabbit. I warned her against this stupid wandering about at night. Your aunt was a very peculiar woman.’
    He coughed. ‘Sometimes,’ he added, ‘I thought her a very silly woman. All this semi-mystical nonsense was very dangerous in her condition. And that’s where I come to the business I wanted to discuss with you. I don’t want your father bothered. I’ve persuaded him to take things easily. It’s been a great shock to him. He’s in his own rooms and I don’t want him disturbed. Now, Val, I want all this crowd of your aunt’s friends out of the house before tomorrow.’ He paused, and his little bright eyes met the boy’s inquiringly. ‘I don’t know how