Free Down Under by Patricia Wentworth Page B

to establish the fact that Miss Carew—er—travelled from Malling to Claypole that night. We do not know whether she did or not. A young woman in a green hat travelled that way. She got out at Claypole, dropped an envelope addressed to Miss Carew, and drove away in a car which was waiting for her. A young woman in a green hat, Captain Loddon. Not—er—necessarily Miss Carew. Just—er—possibly Mabel Garstnet.”
    Oliver got up. This was not a case to him. It was Rose Anne—her safety, her danger. He said harshly,
    â€œIs it any good going to the police with this? What are we going to do about it? If you’re right—if you’re right, sir,—we ought to get a search warrant—we ought to be searching the inn. But the Garstnets—she was Rose Anne’s nurse—she was devoted to her—I can’t believe it.”
    â€œI am—er—afraid that the police would not believe it either, Captain Loddon. I do not think that you would get your—er—search warrant. I fear you would only put a very powerful and—er—unscrupulous organization upon its guard. As to the question of Mrs Garstnet’s affection for Miss Carew, I think one must remember the undoubted presence of such—er—under-currents as fear, self-interest, self-preservation, hope of—er—benefits to come. All these are factors to be—er—reckoned with. There is, for instance her own child—you say a delicate child. If the choice lay between Florrie and Miss Carew, what line would you expect Mrs Garstnet to take?”
    â€œHow could there be a choice like that?”
    â€œI don’t know—there might be. We do not know what pressure might be brought to bear on a woman in Mrs Garstnet’s position. And she might not think that she was harming Miss Carew. She might—” Mr Smith’s tone became dreamier than usual—“she might even—er—imagine that she was doing her a service.”
    Oliver spoke more harshly still.
    â€œI’m not concerned with Mrs Garstnet’s motives. If the Garstnets have touched Rose Anne, she can go to blazes with the rest of them. You say it’s no good going to the police. Well, what do you expect me to do?”
    â€œI expect you to do all that any man can do who is quite willing to take his life in his hands. Try the police if you wish, but I do not think that you will get them to listen to you. I have not been able to get them to listen to me. I think you will merely put the Rennards on their guard. I do not by any means suggest that you should do nothing. I am willing to place all my knowledge at your disposal. I am willing to help you in every way that I can. I believe that I can help you. Will you sit down and listen to what I have to say?”
    Oliver sat down. He knew very well that it was no use going back to the police. They had their theory, and they would stick to it unless and until he could produce some strong rebutting evidence. At present the only evidence seemed to be Mrs Rennard’s maiden name and Florrie’s red hair. Impossible to believe that these things would make any impression upon the police.
    Mr Smith leaned back against the worn leather of his chair.
    â€œNow, Captain Loddon, I will tell you that I have taken it upon myself to pursue some—er—investigations. I was—er—interested. I—er—employed a private detective, a clever young man who had been invalided out of the police service. His name was Gilbert Wray. He collected a good deal of the information I have given you. Then he was found dead. He had had a fall over the edge of a quarry. There were no suspicious circumstances. He was lame. It was his lameness which had necessitated his leaving the police. The slope above the quarry was covered with short grass slippery from rain. There was a verdict of death from misadventure. I—er—wished to continue my