A Dismal Thing To Do Read Online Free PDF Page B

up and get the door open. Am I making myself clear?”
    “Clear enough. Go on.”
    “There was this old barn next to the road a little way back, so I decided to look in there for a ladder or some boards or something I could get up on. I yelled up to the driver so he wouldn’t think I was leaving him stranded, then I backed the car down to the barn and went in over the snowbank.”
    “Leaving your keys and pocketbook,” Madoc amplified, “but taking that plastic blanket.”
    “That’s right. Actually I started to take my purse, but tossed it back because I figured it would just be in my way. I wanted my hands free to carry the ladder or whatever, and I thought maybe the blanket would come in handy one way or another. I was assuming the man was trapped, you see. It made sense at the time.”
    “Of course it did, Jenny. So you got into the barn.”
    “Yes, and I did find a ladder. An apology for one, anyway. Only it was iced into the floor, and while I was trying to pull it free, the barn blew in on me.”
    “Jenny, what—”
    “I’m sorry. I should have said the truck blew up and the explosion knocked the barn down. About half the roof landed smack on top of me.”
    “Jenny!”
    “Now Madoc, don’t get all hot and bothered. I landed on a heap of moldy straw. That and my heavy clothes saved me from the worst of it. A few bruises here and there, that’s all.”
    “A few bruises?” Muriel burst out. “You should see her—”
    “You don’t have to draw them a blueprint,” said Janet with an old-fashioned glance at Arthur. “Anyway, there I was, trying to wiggle out from under and wondering if I was going to bring the rest of the barn down on me and there he was, out in the road pinching my car, if you please. If that wasn’t enough to curdle the milk of human kindness, I’d like to know what is. You don’t have to write that down, Arthur.”
    “About this explosion, Mrs. Rhys,” said Arthur. “You’re sure it was the truck? I mean, mightn’t the man who took your car have blown up the barn and then gone back with a crane or something to get the truck away? The thing of it is—”
    “I know,” Janet interrupted. “You’re going to tell me you didn’t find any wreckage in the road. All you found were the remains of an old red chesterfield and a couple of armchairs.”
    “Well, as a matter of fact, yes. What we think was, it must have been a moving van and some of the furniture inside it caught fire so they shoved it out, but the truck itself—”
    “Arthur, I stood there for darn near two solid hours watching that truck burn down enough so I could get safely past it to the path into the house. Fool-like, I never thought of trying whether the crust would bear my weight. I was too scared about what might happen to me if it didn’t.”
    Madoc’s arm tightened around her till she squeaked. “I’m sorry, Jenny. Darling, what happened to the burned truck?”
    “They came and took it away. With a wrecker, I think.”
    “Who did?”
    “The men who set fire to the house and barn. I never did get to see them, but I heard them talking. I’d built a fire in the parlor stove to keep from freezing, and fallen asleep. When I woke up, I decided I’d better go back to the woodshed for some more firewood, and luckily I was still out there when they came into the kitchen. They had a bottle of brandy they were drinking. I’d taken a little nip of it myself earlier on. What happened was this.”
    Janet told them every bit she could remember, except what she’d really been doing in the woodshed and what they’d said about having fun with her. She was not about to let anything of that sort sneak into Arthur’s notes. The wife of a detective inspector ought to be sans peur et sans reproche, and what Janet hadn’t learned about reproche growing up in Pitcherville wasn’t worth writing home about. Maybe things were different in Fredericton, but she didn’t intend to find out the hard way.
    They let her