Adams finished up his whisky and put the glass on the table. “You’re sure the girl was upset?”
“Of course I am. She was trembling and white. I thought she was going to faint at one time.”
“Can you give a better description of the man?”
“Well, he was tall and thin. I’d say he was about fifty. He had a thick scrubby iron-grey moustache and a long, pointed nose. He looked a furtive, seedy individual,” not the kind of person to go around with a nice young lady like Miss Hedder.”
“That sounds like Jack Fresby,” Adams said, frowning. “Hmm, well, I don’t know. Fresby’s a bad lot, but that doesn’t mean that there’s much to worry about.”
“But there is,” Cedric said. “I haven’t told you about the trunk yet.”
“The trunk? What about it?”
“Jerry, there was something about that trunk that completely unnerved me.
After this boy Joe had delivered it, I went upstairs and examined it. It frightened me.” Cedric put his whisky down and mopped his temples with his handkerchief.
“There was a most peculiar smell coming from it. A smell, Jerry, that reminded me of my father’s funeral.”
Cedric held up his hand. “Listen!”
They both heard the front door close and the sound of someone running upstairs.
“That’s her now,” Cedric said, jumping to his feet.
“Wait a moment,” Adams was also on his feet. “We mustn’t be too hasty.”
He glanced at the marble clock on the mantelpiece. It was twenty minutes past midnight. “See if you can persuade her to come down for a chat. Tell her one of your old friends has called in and would like to meet her.”
Cedric pursed his lips. “She’s most unsociable,” he said dubiously. “I don’t think she’ll come.”
Adams thought for a second. “All right, tell her it’s someone from Joe Crawford. That should bring her down.”
“All right, but what are you going to say?”
“Never mind that,” Adams returned. “Go up right away before she has time to go to bed.”
After a wait of some five minutes, he heard Cedric returning. He was not alone.
Susan, her heart thudding, stared at the tall man who stood before the empty fireplace. As soon as she saw him, she felt a relaxing of her fears. He looked kind, and not, as she had feared, when she heard that he wanted to see her, from the police.
“This is Miss Hedder,” Cedric said, closing the door. “Mr. Jerry Adams.”
Adams smiled. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Miss Hedder, for worrying you at this time of the night. Won’t you sit down?”
Susan looked at Cedric and then at Adams. Her eyes were dark with apprehension. She hesitated and then walked slowly across to a chair and sat down. She again looked at Cedric uneasily.
Adams turned to Cedric. “I think Miss Hedder would prefer to talk to me alone.”
Cedric’s fat face fell. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll make some tea. Yes, you two talk. You’ll like Mr. Adams,” he went on to Susan.
“He’s a very dear friend of mine. We used to be in Rep. together.”
Susan didn’t say anything. She was now looking at Adams a little less doubtfully.
“All right, you go and make us some tea,” Jerry said, and crossing the room, he opened the door. As Cedric passed him, he murmured, “I’ll call you when I’ve talked to her.”
After Cedric had gone, there was a short, nervous silence, then Adams said, “Cedric tells me that you know Joe Crawford.”
Susan stiffened. “I don’t know him very well,” she said, her mind crawling with alarm.
“He and I used to be great friends,” Adams went on quietly. There was something wrong, he told himself. This kid was as jumpy as a cat, and every time he spoke to her, terror came into her eyes.
“I haven’t seen him for some time and when I heard he had been here, I wondered if you could tell me where I could get in touch with him.”
Susan felt a cold chill round her heart. She was sure that this nice young man was lying. Joe had been emphatic that he had no friends.
“I—I don’t know where he lives,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I don’t know him very well.”
“That’s disappointing,” Adams said, his voice hardening. “I was hoping—but if you don’t know, then I’ll have to find him some other way.”
“Yes,” Susan said, getting to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me . . . it’s late and I’m very tired.” She put her hand to her head and stood for a moment, her eyes dull and bewildered.
“Aren’t you well, Miss Hedder?” he asked sharply, crossing over to her.
She did not seem to hear him.
“Miss Hedder! “ He took her arm and shook her gently. “What’s the matter?”
“Someone’s playing a drum,” she muttered, pulling away from him. “Listen! Don’t you hear it! Someone’s playing a drum.”
Adams stared at her. No sound came to him as he listened. “I don’t hear anything,” he said.
Susan stared at him wildly. “You must be deaf. It goes on and on. Listen!”
She suddenly backed away from him, her eyes alight with alarm. “It’s beating inside my head,” she cried hysterically.
“It goes boom . . . boom . . . boom . . . it gets louder and louder . . . it goes on and on and on . . . don’t you hear it?”
“Nonsense!” Adams said sharply. The horror in her face chilled him. “Pull yourself together. You’re imagining it. There is no drum . . .”
“What’s happening to me?” Susan cried, clutching at her head. “It’s beating inside my brain. I must be going mad . . . oh, stop it! Do—do stop it!”
“Don’t be a little fool!” Adams exclaimed, now thoroughly alarmed. “I tell you there is no drum.”
She stared at him, backed to the door and before he could stop her, she had opened it and was running upstairs. The sound of her muffled sobbing brought Cedric running from the kitchen.
“You’ve upset her,” he said accusingly. “Whatever did you say?”
Adams was standing in the hall, staring up the stairs. “I didn’t say anything,” he returned, a worried look on his face.
“She suddenly said someone was playing a drum. There’s something very wrong with that young woman. She’s in a shocking state of nerves.”
“Drum?” Cedric repeated. “What drum?”
“I don’t know,” Adams went on. “Something pretty bad’s upset her. I think you’re right, Cedric, this wants looking into. What the devil did she mean? Someone’s playing a drum?”
Cedric’s eyes popped. “Do you think I should call a doctor?” he asked helplessly.
“Listen!” Adams said sharply.
They stood still, looking up the stairs. Very faintly a rhythmic thud-thud-thud came from above.
Without hesitation, Adams ran up the stairs until he reached Susan’s room.
Cedric, panting with exertion and alarm, joined him. They listened outside the door.
“It sounds as if she was beating on the table with her fist,” Adams said uneasily.
The dull thud-thud-thud went on.
Adams knocked on the door. “Miss Hedder!” he called.
“You’ll wake everyone up,” Cedric said nervously. “What am I going to do? Do you think I ought to send for the police?”
“Now for goodness sake control yourself,” Adams said irritably. “I am the police and I can handle this.”
He was not nearly as calm as he tried to sound. There was something eerie about the way this girl was beating on the table. The insistent rhythm had an odd, frightening effect on him.
Then quite suddenly the thumping stopped. He heard footsteps cross the room and before he could draw back, the door was flung open.