Free Down Under by Patricia Wentworth Page A

said,
    â€œNot red—it’s not—I suppose there is some red in it. It’s a lovely colour—a sort of dark chestnut.”
    A moment ago he had felt that they were not getting anywhere. Now, with a violent recoil, he had a glimpse of where all this was leading them. He cried out,
    â€œWhat has this Rennard business to do with Rose Anne? What possible connection is there?”
    Mr Smith looked at him gravely.
    â€œI should have asked that question myself. I had not thought of any connection. I did not anticipate any connection until you mentioned a very uncommon name.”
    â€œWhat name?”
    â€œThe name of the people from whose house Miss Carew disappeared.”
    â€œGarstnet?” said Oliver. “For God’s sake, sir!”
    â€œI told you Amos Rennard was a widower, but I did not tell you his wife’s name. It was Garstnet—Ellen Francis Garstnet.”

CHAPTER IX
    In a stunned silence Oliver tried to think what this might mean. There was a time that passed. Then Mr Smith was speaking again.
    â€œThis is naturally a shock to you, Captain Loddon. It was—er—a considerable shock to me. While you were telling me about Miss Carew’s—er—disappearance I had no other thought than that her flight was a voluntary one. Some trouble had been—er—taken to make it appear that she had not gone alone. I was entirely deceived. Then you mentioned the name of a village—er—Hillick St Agnes. It arrested my attention by its similarity to a name which I have had occasion to—er—note in connection with the Rennard case. I will recur to this presently. I was about to ask you a certain question when you mentioned the name of Garstnet. When you further informed me that little Florrie Garstnet was the possessor of a very fine head of red hair, I became convinced that Miss Carew’s disappearance could no longer be accounted a voluntary one. Now, Captain Loddon—this inn-keeper—is his Christian name Matthew?”
    â€œYes, it is.”
    Mr Smith nodded.
    â€œThe father, also Matthew Garstnet, kept the Bell and Bucket inn on the Exeter turnpike road. He had it from his father, and he from his father again—all Matthews. Amos Rennard met his wife there. About the time of the smash her brother Matthew sold the goodwill of the inn and went away. He was then a widower with two daughters. When did he come to Hillick St Agnes?”
    â€œAbout ten years ago. He married Rose Anne’s nurse. Florrie is their only child.”
    â€œAnd the two elder daughters?”
    â€œFanny is married. Mabel is at home.”
    â€œI see—” said Mr Smith. His gaze became so absent-minded that Oliver wondered with impatience whether he ever really saw anything at all.
    There was a considerable silence, and then he heard Mr Smith say in a dreamy voice,
    â€œMabel Garstnet—I wonder—er—about Mabel Garstnet. Is—she—er—by any chance of the same—er—general appearance as Miss Carew?”
    â€œCertainly not!” said Oliver. And then, “What do you mean?”
    Mr Smith did not look at him.
    â€œHeight—build—” he suggested.
    â€œThere are thousands of girls of approximately the same height and build.”
    â€œJust so, just so. You will remember, Captain Loddon, that you—er—raised the question as to why Miss Carew should walk or drive the three miles into Malling and proceed by train to Claypole, where she was met by a car, when that car might just as easily have fetched her from Hillick St Agnes, a distance of only six miles by road. The point was, I think, very well taken. It has occurred to me that there was perhaps a reason for this train journey. Mrs. Garstnet says that Miss Carew left the inn wearing a bright green hat. It may have been considered desirable that this green hat should be—er—noticed and described. It may have been very important