she got in ’er finger from the sewing-machine.…”
“Thank you, thanks awfully, Mrs. Harris. You see it was all nothing to worry about, was it? And you’ve been very helpful.”
“Well, it was the brooch, atcherly, sir, that I ’ad at the back of me mind. Miss Doon she lorst ’er brooch, see? and Miss Gregory she would ’ave it that I’d got something to do with it, and they kept on going at me, and worriting that poor little Macaroni about it too, and ’er as innercent as the babe unborn, and that fond of Miss Doon she would do nothink to ’arm ’er, let alone steal ’er brooch. Then all the time it turns up in the lining of Miss Doon’s coat when she was being took. That Gregory I’d like to scrag ’er. You won’t take no notice of anythink she tells you, will you, sir?”
“Not as far as the brooch is concerned. Don’t you worry, Mrs. Harris, that’s all right with me; and the fish too.…”
Mrs. ’Arris thanked him with tears in her eyes and drifted out, still muttering.
If Mrs. ’Arris provided the savoury, Miss Gregory certainly started off as the sorbet. She greeted Charlesworth frigidly, and totally ignored the sergeant, who felt himself, most unreasonably, getting pink and uncomfortable. She was a tall, rather angular girl, growing a little heavy at the hips, and with a small oval lump, probably of thyroid origin, prominent in her slender throat. She was dressed with meticulous care and made up heavily but with an inexpert hand. Charlesworth turned his head uneasily from the stare of her cold, grey eyes, but started off briskly enough with his questionnaire.
“Miss Gregory, I understand that you didn’t go into the room where the young ladies were using this oxalic acid which is suspected of having killed Miss Doon?”
“No, I did not. I was standing behind Mr. Bevan, and I could see it lying on the floor. He picked some of it up in his hand and turned to show it to me, but he threw it down’ again and I sent the charwoman to brush it all up. It was perfectly disgraceful that the stuff should have been lying about the place. The salesgirls are very nice people and so on, but they are completely irresponsible. Mr. Bevan’s always saying so to me.”
“She means she’s always saying so to Mr. Bevan,” thought Charlesworth, disgusted. He asked the usual question as to her personal relations with the dead girl.
Gregory’s expression grew guarded. “At one time I was rather friendly with her; I found I didn’t like the sort of people she went about with and I stopped seeing her.”
“About this luncheon business—we think she may possibly have taken some poison by accident then. You didn’t help in the dishing out, I understand?”
“No, I did not. That’s the charwoman’s job and I consider that it’s quite unnecessary that the girls should do it for her. It only spoils these people and they begin to take advantage of it… she should dish out the food and put the plates in the hot-cupboards and let the girls help themselves as they come down. However——”
“Anyway, you didn’t assist.”
“No, I was upstairs in Mr. Bevan’s office. I came down after they were all at the table, to tell Miss Doon that her luncheon appointment with Mr. Bevan was off. He had been thinking of sending her to the new branch which he is opening in Deauville and he had arranged to take her out and discuss the matter and make arrangements and so on; but that morning he came round to see me and told me he had decided to send me instead, so of course he had to cancel his date with her—or rather, I’m afraid, he forgot all about it, and he asked me to come out for a little celebration.”
Charlesworth looked at her triumphant, gloating face and hated her. “This is the perfect poisoner,” he thought. “She’s cruel and treacherous and selfish as hell. I must check up on this female most carefully.” He changed the course of his questions a little. “Mrs. Best was in the running
“Thank you, thanks awfully, Mrs. Harris. You see it was all nothing to worry about, was it? And you’ve been very helpful.”
“Well, it was the brooch, atcherly, sir, that I ’ad at the back of me mind. Miss Doon she lorst ’er brooch, see? and Miss Gregory she would ’ave it that I’d got something to do with it, and they kept on going at me, and worriting that poor little Macaroni about it too, and ’er as innercent as the babe unborn, and that fond of Miss Doon she would do nothink to ’arm ’er, let alone steal ’er brooch. Then all the time it turns up in the lining of Miss Doon’s coat when she was being took. That Gregory I’d like to scrag ’er. You won’t take no notice of anythink she tells you, will you, sir?”
“Not as far as the brooch is concerned. Don’t you worry, Mrs. Harris, that’s all right with me; and the fish too.…”
Mrs. ’Arris thanked him with tears in her eyes and drifted out, still muttering.
If Mrs. ’Arris provided the savoury, Miss Gregory certainly started off as the sorbet. She greeted Charlesworth frigidly, and totally ignored the sergeant, who felt himself, most unreasonably, getting pink and uncomfortable. She was a tall, rather angular girl, growing a little heavy at the hips, and with a small oval lump, probably of thyroid origin, prominent in her slender throat. She was dressed with meticulous care and made up heavily but with an inexpert hand. Charlesworth turned his head uneasily from the stare of her cold, grey eyes, but started off briskly enough with his questionnaire.
“Miss Gregory, I understand that you didn’t go into the room where the young ladies were using this oxalic acid which is suspected of having killed Miss Doon?”
“No, I did not. I was standing behind Mr. Bevan, and I could see it lying on the floor. He picked some of it up in his hand and turned to show it to me, but he threw it down’ again and I sent the charwoman to brush it all up. It was perfectly disgraceful that the stuff should have been lying about the place. The salesgirls are very nice people and so on, but they are completely irresponsible. Mr. Bevan’s always saying so to me.”
“She means she’s always saying so to Mr. Bevan,” thought Charlesworth, disgusted. He asked the usual question as to her personal relations with the dead girl.
Gregory’s expression grew guarded. “At one time I was rather friendly with her; I found I didn’t like the sort of people she went about with and I stopped seeing her.”
“About this luncheon business—we think she may possibly have taken some poison by accident then. You didn’t help in the dishing out, I understand?”
“No, I did not. That’s the charwoman’s job and I consider that it’s quite unnecessary that the girls should do it for her. It only spoils these people and they begin to take advantage of it… she should dish out the food and put the plates in the hot-cupboards and let the girls help themselves as they come down. However——”
“Anyway, you didn’t assist.”
“No, I was upstairs in Mr. Bevan’s office. I came down after they were all at the table, to tell Miss Doon that her luncheon appointment with Mr. Bevan was off. He had been thinking of sending her to the new branch which he is opening in Deauville and he had arranged to take her out and discuss the matter and make arrangements and so on; but that morning he came round to see me and told me he had decided to send me instead, so of course he had to cancel his date with her—or rather, I’m afraid, he forgot all about it, and he asked me to come out for a little celebration.”
Charlesworth looked at her triumphant, gloating face and hated her. “This is the perfect poisoner,” he thought. “She’s cruel and treacherous and selfish as hell. I must check up on this female most carefully.” He changed the course of his questions a little. “Mrs. Best was in the running
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