Adders on the Heath

'What-ho, Mrs Croc, dear!' she said. Dame Beatrice looked up.

'I hope your mission was more successful than mine,' she said.

'Your mission?'

'Yes, I went to visit Mr and Mrs Campden-Towne, but the servants reported that they had gone away, leaving no address and giving no indication of a possible date for their return.'

'Guilty conscience, do you think?'

'It is not possible to say. How did your session go?'

Laura described the séance.

'I can't say it seems to have been much good, and I did rather feel I'd paid through the nose,' she said, 'but I suppose it was rather interesting. The old lady isn't entirely phoney, but I wish she could have been a little more explicit. Still, we mustn't grumble. What do you make of it all?'

'I think we must see the Superintendent again and suggest that he interview your young policeman, and, in view of the gipsy's warning, my dear Laura, I am in mind to deport you to London, and Hamish too.'

'Over my dead body!' said Laura stoutly. Dame Beatrice cackled.

'But your dead body is the one thing I wish to avoid,' she said. 'Perhaps we will all go home.'

'Leaving the case in the air?'

'The case is not in the air. The gipsy has supplied the last clue. One thing I did while you were gone. I advised the Superintendent of Clive's disappearance and got him to check the Maidstons' story. It would never do for harm to come to the child. Once they know the police are suspicious, the boy should be safe enough. The Superintendent has promised, in your favourite phrase, to leave no stone unturned in looking for the child, so I think we may set our minds at rest concerning Clive.'

SECOND INTERLUDE

'Discourse of the Unnatural and Vile Conspiracie.

King James VI of Scotland

'Cor, look!' said Judy, as she and Syl plodded around a rather ill-equipped indoor arena. 'Marlene done five foot four.'

'Them bars sags,' said her friend. 'Don't suppose it was a bit more than five two and a half, actually. What did you make of that Mrs Gavin?'

'Her? Might make the half-mile if she trained.'

'No, but her herself, I mean.'

'No idea. All I got was that she was no sort of a square. She's got what it takes, whatever that is. Sticking her neck out, though.'

'What makes you think so?'

'Look,' said Judy, changing stride as three of the other women athletes challenged their possession of the track, 'what I mean is, she's got on to something. You can't get away from the fact that them two boys was done to death.'

'Nothing to do with Mrs Gavin. Couldn't have been.'

'It's none too healthy for amachers to go about digging into cases of murder. Much better leave it to the police. It's their job, anyway.'

'Let's shove up a couple of hurdles and have a bash. I'm sick of jogging. My heels is getting sore. What do the club have to pay for the honour and privilege of being allowed to use this ruddy old dump?'

'Dunno. Got to pay our own bus fares to get here, anyway.'

'Oh, well, it's only one night in the week. The men gets two.'

'That's three nights out of seven for me and Sid. I don't see why they boys and we girls can't train together.'

'The boys would hog the whole track and all the fixings. We wouldn't get a look in.' They put up three low hurdles and conversation died as they took turns at going over them. Members of the city club which owned the indoor track began drifting in, dancing on their toes and giving obvious signs to the visitors from the Scylla and District that time was up and that they required their premises to themselves.

'I bet the showers are cold,' said Judy, as they stacked the hurdles and then went off to change.

'I'm not going to bother. Have a bath when I get home,' said Syl. 'I haven't done enough to get really sweated. An hour's not much at a time. The bus ride takes longer than that, counting here and back, not to speak of that walk up the lane.'

They left the premises at a quarter-past eight and had three-quarters of a mile to walk to the bus stop, back in the town. They traversed a narrow, lonely, tree-lined road which had no pavement, and were about half-way along it when they heard the sound of a car. They had been walking side by side, but, as there was scarcely room for two cars to pass, Syl slipped in behind her friend as they approached a bend in the road.

Suddenly brilliant headlamps glared into the girls' eyes. Completely dazzled, Judy fell into the ditch. The car tore at her. Syl screamed and jumped into the hedge. The car swerved, the brakes squealed, the driver pulled up. The girls picked themselves out of hedge and ditch. A man got out of the car and came up to them.

'You're lucky,' he said shortly. 'Keep your eyes skinned another...why, hullo! It's Miss Gammon and Miss Crimble, isn't it? Sorry, girls, but you were rather all over the road, you know. Any damage done?'

'I'm wet and muddy, Mr Towne,' said Judy. 'Lucky no more damage.'

'I'm all over scratches and I'll bet my nylons have had it,' said Syl. 'And we wasn't all across the road, Mr Towne.'

'Oh, well, I'll take your word for it. Thought any more about what I asked you? The pay's not bad, you know.'

'Still thinking,' said Judy. 'Well, we'd better be getting along. Catch my death in these wet things.'

'I'll give you a lift in my car.'

'No, thanks all the same. We better keep moving. Anyhow, you ain't going our way.'

'Oh, there's certain to be a gate where I can turn the car. You carry on, and I'll pick you up and drive you home, if you tell me where you live.'

Thanks a lot, but nothing doing. Good night, Mr Towne. We'll keep on thinking about your other offer. We might accept if it wasn't for what happened to you know who.'

'But, my dear girl, that was nothing to do with me, or with the job they were doing for me. What on earth silly ideas have you got in your heads? Whatever they are, you'd better get rid of 'em pretty damn' quick! Think it over.'

'Didn't mean anything personal, Mr Towne. You know that. Well, good night again. If you want to turn the car, you'll have to go near enough up to the sports club place, I reckon.'

'O.K.' He walked back to his car.

'Come on,' said Syl, beginning to step out.

'Prepared to sell your honour dearly, dearie?' asked Judy, falling in behind her.

'Don't know what you mean. Old Towne ain't that sort.'

'I'll tell you what sort he is. He's a stinking murderer. I reckon he was out to get us. That swerve was no accident; no, nor it wasn't careless driving, neither. And he isn't sozzled. I got a very keen nose for that sort of thing, and there wasn't no smell to his breath.'

'You're cuckoo! Why would he want to get us? We ain't done nothing!'

'We've turned down that offer to watch out for them roaming ponies, haven't we?'

'What's that got to do with it?'

'I don't exactly know. What say we crash the hedge? I don't want him having another go at us. He might be lucky the next time.'

'You got the jitters? Well, all right then, if you want to. One thing, I'm in such a perishing mess already, I can't look much worse than I do. Hope it's not that fresh conductor-boy on the bus. If it is, he's bound to pass remarks. He always do, give 'im half a chance!'

'Half a mo! There's a gate a little way ahead. Let's trot. He'll be back any minute.'

They trotted, found the gate and tumbled over it. They walked uncertainly on the rough ground but were immediately screened from the road by a high hedge of hawthorns.