Who Killed Stella Pomeroy? by Basil Thomson Page B

“but we must be quick. Mother will be waiting dinner for us.”
    From some hidden pocket Richardson produced a box of toffee and invited his young friends to partake. Nora, who was afflicted with an oversensitive conscience, said, “Mummy wouldn’t like us to eat sweets just before dinner,” but she was quickly overruled by her companions. She slipped her hand into Richardson’s, saying, “I wish you could be our lodger.” To this Mary added, “Mr Casey doesn’t give us toffee.”
    â€œThat wouldn’t matter if he wasn’t a beast,” said the boy.
    Mary became confidential. “Pat doesn’t like him since he got that box on the ear.”
    â€œWhy did he give him a box on the ear?”
    â€œBecause I was stalking him,” said Pat defiantly.
    â€œWhy was that?”
    â€œTo see whether he went to Mrs Pomeroy’s bungalow.”
    â€œI bet Ann Pomeroy put you up to that,” said Nora; “you know you would do anything for her.”
    â€œYou would, Pat,” put in Mary. “You think that Ann is the most wonderful person in the world.”
    â€œSo she is!”
    â€œWhy should Miss Pomeroy want you to stalk Mr Casey?” asked Richardson.
    â€œBecause he’s a dirty sneak. But Ann didn’t tell me to stalk him: she said that I must never do such a thing.”
    â€œAnd then of course you did it,” said Nora, tossing her little head.
    They had reached the estate office, and Richardson dismissed them to their dinners with well-earned thanks, inwardly recording Pat Coxon as one of the witnesses that could profitably be questioned alone when an opportunity presented itself. He was in time to catch Miss Lane in her office before she left for her midday meal. He introduced himself as a police officer from New Scotland Yard who had been sent to investigate the murder at the bungalow.
    â€œI fear that I’ve called at a very inconvenient hour,” he said; “you must have been on the point of closing down the office for lunch.”
    â€œThat doesn’t matter at all. Sit down and ask me any question you like. My lunch will have to wait, but I think I’ve given all the information I have to Inspector Aitkin.”
    â€œI haven’t very much to ask you. I think you told Inspector Aitkin that Mr Pomeroy had intimated that he would like to dispose of the remainder of his lease. Did he come to the office to tell you this, or did you meet casually in the road or elsewhere?”
    â€œIt was quite a casual meeting when I was on the way to this office.”
    â€œWhat did he say?”
    â€œI don’t know that I can remember his exact words. He passed the time of day and then asked me casually whether I thought that I could find a tenant for his bungalow if he decided to leave the neighbourhood. I expressed my surprise and asked him whether his wife found it too isolated a house, as she was alone all day. He said, ‘No, she likes the bungalow, but we may have to leave.’”
    â€œI believe that when you mentioned this conversation to Mrs Pomeroy a day or two later she was surprised and told you that it was the first she had heard of it. Can you remember what she said?”
    â€œYes. She said, ‘Oh, that’s it, is it? He wants to get me away from my friends.’ I didn’t pursue the conversation because we were getting onto dangerous ground. You see, it was common knowledge that she had one particular friend of whom her husband disapproved.”
    â€œYou mean Mr Casey?”
    Miss Lane nodded meaningly. “I don’t want to be mixed up in this business at all, but I might tell you confidentially, as you are a police officer, that more than once when I’ve been on the way to this office in the morning I have seen Mr Casey leaving the Pomeroys’ bungalow after Mr Pomeroy had gone to business.”
    â€œThank you very much, Miss Lane, and now I mustn’t