Free So Bad a Death by June Wright Page A

good to get out and forget crime for a change.”
    â€œI suppose Wednesday will be as good as any other night. Any other feelers from the big man?”
    â€œWhy do you say that?” I asked curiously. “As a matter of fact, I have been given free run of the golf course. Do you know, I have an odd feeling that we are being used.”
    â€œAnd I have a feeling,” mimicked John, “that you are right. Explain what you mean, please.”
    â€œI haven’t a notion. Just a feminine shot in the dark. Why, as I have asked before, did you want to know about more feelers?”
    â€œThe equivalent of the feminine shot. I had a telephone call from Holland first thing this morning.”
    I glanced up too eagerly.
    â€œYou did? What did he want? You know, darling, I’m certain there’s something fishy going on at the Hall. First of all, Cruikshank, and today I overheard—”
    I shut my mouth firmly as a grin developed widely on his.
    â€œTrapped, by Jupiter! Give a woman a little encouragement and she’ll tell all. What was it you overheard?”
    â€œVery clever! What did Holland want?”
    â€œI can’t tell you.”
    I raised one shoulder huffily.
    â€œYou see,” John explained, “I hadn’t arrived at the office when he rang.”
    â€œVery, very clever. Didn’t you call him back?”
    â€œCertainly not. I suffer from an inverted type of snobbery. Let him come to me. Now, what was it you were about to say?” John said conversationally.
    â€œNothing of great interest,” I answered, determined not to be caught again. “You haven’t inquired about Tony.”
    John continued to gaze at me. “If you are getting into mischief or anywhere near it, back we go to the flat. That is my first and last warning. All right, how is Tony?”
    â€œFine,” I replied lamely. “Let me see. What happened today?” I passed over the events in my mind, blue-pencilling them severely, and thought of Connie Bellamy.
    â€œI met a girl from the Exchange. She is married and lives out here. I was swept along to the local Community Centre to meet Middleburn society.”
    â€œDo I know her?”
    â€œConnie Bellamy? No, she had left before your little sojourn at Central. A gasbag with a limited vocabulary. As a result, her conversation becomes rather monotonous. Husband Harold will be thrilled to know we are living in Middleburn. How is the case of the missing estate agent going?”
    â€œIn routine, as far as I know. I gave your dope to Billings. How you change from one subject to another, Maggie!”
    â€œThat’s just where you’re wrong,” I said in triumph. “There is a definite follow-on from talking about Connie to Cruikshank. It might be of interest to Sergeant Billings.”
    â€œWell, what is it?”
    â€œConnie Bellamy told me Cruikshank has been systematically robbing them for years.” John took it quite calmly. “Sounds interesting. What did she mean exactly?”
    â€œI couldn’t say. I didn’t ask her.”
    â€œI’ll tell Billings. He may make something out of it. He still has Holland to interview. The old man is proving difficult.”
    â€œMulqueen told me tonight he has gone away for a few days. Yvonne Holland will be relieved.”
    â€œYou seem to know a great deal about the Hollands,” was John’s ominously casual comment.
    III
    But Yvonne was not at the gates of the Hall when I arrived, and it must have been after three then. Tony had been tiresome about getting dressed and had delayed us. I paused uncertainly at the foot of one of the grey stone pillars bearing a lion couchant. It might have been possible that she had gone on, not willing to be seen loitering from the house. But the road ran straight down from the Hall and there was no sign of her in the distance. I let Tony out of the pusher and decided to give her a few minutes’