Jam and Jeopardy Read Online Free PDF
Author: Doris Davidson
Miss . . . the dead woman, for I can’t help him with that.
Now!’ He took out his notebook and held his Biro ready. ‘To business! Who was the first person to notice that something might be wrong with Miss Souter?’
‘Me.’ Willie was practically jumping with excitement. ‘I noticed her milk hadn’t been taken in when I was delivering her paper in the morning.’
The sergeant looked up, surprised that it had been so long ago, then he bent back to his task. ‘What time would that be?’
‘Must have been about twenty to nine, for I just had to deliver one at the bottom of the Lane before I went back to the shop to leave my bag. I was in the school playground just before the
bell went at five to.’
Black was writing in a methodical, careful manner, and the boy paused, to give him time to catch up.
‘I thought she might be ill, ’cos she’s usually up long before I get here, so I looked in her bedroom window first. Her bed had been made, but I couldn’t see her
anywhere, so I had a look in her living room, as well. She wasn’t there, either.’ Willie was relishing his starring role.
‘Did you tell anyone about it at that time?’
‘No, you see, I was a bit behind with my round, so I just carried on. But I did notice her fire wasn’t on, so I told Miss Wheeler when I went back.’
‘Ah!’ The sergeant’s Biro was moving much more quickly now. ‘Do you know if she did anything about it?’
‘She said she’d tell Derek . . . er . . . Constable Paul, but when I asked her at half past four, she said she hadn’t seen him all day. I think she was too scared of Miss
Souter to do anything.’
‘I see. What time would you say it was when you delivered the evening papers here?’
Willie considered. ‘I’d say it was about twenty past five, but you can check Mrs Wakeford’s phone call to the police station, because she phoned as soon as I told her about the
milk.’
‘Thank you, Willie.’ John Black turned to the woman, now sitting upright in her seat. ‘Have you anything to add to what Willie’s told me, Mrs Wakeford?’
‘It was her own arsenic that killed her.’ The whispered words seemed to be forced out of her.
The Biro hovered for a moment. ‘Arsenic? Where on earth did Janet Souter get hold of arsenic?’
‘She got it from Davie Livingstone for killing the rats in her garden, and she went round boasting about it. Anybody with a grudge against her could have done it.’
A sense of disquiet made the sergeant feel very much at a loss. ‘Ah, yes . . . well . . . but a grudge isn’t the usual reason for committing murder. It needs something far stronger
than a grudge to drive a person, or persons, to those lengths.’ He stared at her intently, and she squirmed under his scrutiny.
‘At least, you know now how she died,’ she said, on the defensive. ‘That should save you time in your investigations.’
‘Where did Davie get the arsenic?’
‘They used it in the glass factory where he worked before he retired. He took some home for the rats in his garden.’
A short silence indicated that the sergeant was rather unsure of what to do next, but his puzzled face suddenly cleared. ‘Why are you so positive that it was the arsenic that killed her,
Mrs Wakeford? Do you know something about her death?’
She looked more agitated than ever, and bit her lip.
‘Come now,’ Black persisted. ‘You’d better tell me whatever it is you think you know. We’ll find it all out eventually.’
Her eyes looked helplessly at him before she burst out, ‘I didn’t want to have to tell you this, and it’s maybe not true, but Janet Souter told me, last Sunday night, that her
two nephews were trying to kill her. She said they’d put arsenic in her flour bin and her sugar bin. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s what she said.’ The woman seemed
happier now that she’d told him.
The sergeant wasn’t happier. This complication was something he could have done without, but
Now!’ He took out his notebook and held his Biro ready. ‘To business! Who was the first person to notice that something might be wrong with Miss Souter?’
‘Me.’ Willie was practically jumping with excitement. ‘I noticed her milk hadn’t been taken in when I was delivering her paper in the morning.’
The sergeant looked up, surprised that it had been so long ago, then he bent back to his task. ‘What time would that be?’
‘Must have been about twenty to nine, for I just had to deliver one at the bottom of the Lane before I went back to the shop to leave my bag. I was in the school playground just before the
bell went at five to.’
Black was writing in a methodical, careful manner, and the boy paused, to give him time to catch up.
‘I thought she might be ill, ’cos she’s usually up long before I get here, so I looked in her bedroom window first. Her bed had been made, but I couldn’t see her
anywhere, so I had a look in her living room, as well. She wasn’t there, either.’ Willie was relishing his starring role.
‘Did you tell anyone about it at that time?’
‘No, you see, I was a bit behind with my round, so I just carried on. But I did notice her fire wasn’t on, so I told Miss Wheeler when I went back.’
‘Ah!’ The sergeant’s Biro was moving much more quickly now. ‘Do you know if she did anything about it?’
‘She said she’d tell Derek . . . er . . . Constable Paul, but when I asked her at half past four, she said she hadn’t seen him all day. I think she was too scared of Miss
Souter to do anything.’
‘I see. What time would you say it was when you delivered the evening papers here?’
Willie considered. ‘I’d say it was about twenty past five, but you can check Mrs Wakeford’s phone call to the police station, because she phoned as soon as I told her about the
milk.’
‘Thank you, Willie.’ John Black turned to the woman, now sitting upright in her seat. ‘Have you anything to add to what Willie’s told me, Mrs Wakeford?’
‘It was her own arsenic that killed her.’ The whispered words seemed to be forced out of her.
The Biro hovered for a moment. ‘Arsenic? Where on earth did Janet Souter get hold of arsenic?’
‘She got it from Davie Livingstone for killing the rats in her garden, and she went round boasting about it. Anybody with a grudge against her could have done it.’
A sense of disquiet made the sergeant feel very much at a loss. ‘Ah, yes . . . well . . . but a grudge isn’t the usual reason for committing murder. It needs something far stronger
than a grudge to drive a person, or persons, to those lengths.’ He stared at her intently, and she squirmed under his scrutiny.
‘At least, you know now how she died,’ she said, on the defensive. ‘That should save you time in your investigations.’
‘Where did Davie get the arsenic?’
‘They used it in the glass factory where he worked before he retired. He took some home for the rats in his garden.’
A short silence indicated that the sergeant was rather unsure of what to do next, but his puzzled face suddenly cleared. ‘Why are you so positive that it was the arsenic that killed her,
Mrs Wakeford? Do you know something about her death?’
She looked more agitated than ever, and bit her lip.
‘Come now,’ Black persisted. ‘You’d better tell me whatever it is you think you know. We’ll find it all out eventually.’
Her eyes looked helplessly at him before she burst out, ‘I didn’t want to have to tell you this, and it’s maybe not true, but Janet Souter told me, last Sunday night, that her
two nephews were trying to kill her. She said they’d put arsenic in her flour bin and her sugar bin. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s what she said.’ The woman seemed
happier now that she’d told him.
The sergeant wasn’t happier. This complication was something he could have done without, but