Mrs. Jeffries Stands Corrected Read Online Free PDF Page A

this case on advice she’d previously given him. “Exactly where is the Gilded Lily Pub?”
    “It’s not far from Scotland Yard.” Witherspoon drained his glass. “Quite a lovely place, actually. Brass fittings and gilded mirrors, beautiful etched windows and carved panels on the partitions. It’s the sort of place where one would feel comfortable taking a lady, if you know what I mean.Perhaps when Lady Cannonberry returns from the country, we’ll try finding an equally refined pub around our own neighborhood here.”
    “That’s a lovely idea. And the Gilded Lily is close to Scotland Yard, you say?”
    “Not far at all.” He stood up abruptly. “I say, we haven’t gotten another letter from Lady Cannonberry, have we?”
    “No, sir,” Mrs. Jeffries forced herself to say calmly. She knew he missed their neighbor, but right now she didn’t want to discuss the inspector’s romantic affiliations. She wanted facts about this murder. “What time did the murder occur?”
    “I think I’ll have that cold supper now,” Witherspoon said just as she asked her question. “I’m suddenly famished.”

    “Is that all you got out of ’im?” Smythe asked incredulously. “Just the name of the pub and the name of the victim?”
    Mrs. Jeffries nodded. She felt rather foolish. As soon as the inspector was safely ensconced in the dining room with his supper, she’d called the rest of the household together to tell them the news. But she had so very little to report. “I know it isn’t much, but he was in the strangest mood tonight. He wanted to talk about the murder, but he didn’t want to say very much.”
    “You say he had a room full of suspects and he let them all go home without even interviewing them?” Mrs. Goodge asked curiously. “That don’t sound right.”
    “It isn’t right,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. “For some strange reason, the inspector seems to think it’s best to let the killer think he got away with it. He won’t start interviewing thepeople who were in the pub when the murder occurred until tomorrow.”
    “Did you get us a few of their names?” Betsy asked hopefully.
    “I’m afraid not.”
    “Where’s this pub at, then?” Wiggins pressed.
    “I’m not really sure,” Mrs. Jeffries admitted. “But it’s quite near Scotland Yard.”
    “’Ow about the time of death?” Smythe stared at her hopefully.
    “Sometime this evening.”
    “What kinda knife was it?” Wiggins asked.
    “He didn’t say.”
    “Blimey,” Smythe exclaimed, “you didn’t get much out of ’im, did ya?”
    “It’s not Mrs. Jeffries’s fault if the inspector has suddenly got tongue-tied,” Betsy snapped. “So give it a rest.” She turned and smiled at the housekeeper. “What do you think has gotten into him? It’s not like the inspector to be so cagey. He usually tells you everything.”
    Mrs. Jeffries was at a loss to explain the inspector’s behavior to the others. If she told them he was simply acting on advice she’d given him in the past, she’d feel absolutely idiotic. It would be difficult to make them understand. “He might have just been tired,” she ventured.
    “Me too.” Wiggins yawned widely. “I’m dead on me feet. So what do we do now? It’s not like we’ve got much to start on.”
    “We’ve got plenty of information,” the housekeeper said firmly. Just because Inspector Witherspoon had developed a bad case of discretion didn’t mean they weren’t going to get started right away. “We know the name of the victim, the name of the pub, the approximate time of death and we know the killer used a knife.”
    “I can find out where this ’ere Gilded Lily Pub is,” Smythe volunteered. “If it’s near Scotland Yard, I can nip out to the stables tomorrow mornin’ and talk to one of the cabbies in the area. They know where all the pubs are.”
    “But this was a new one,” Mrs. Jeffries pointed out. “It had only just opened a few hours before the murder.”
    Smythe