Police at the Funeral Read Online Free PDF Page B

75–1. Congratulations. Cheque following. Syd.”
    â€˜As it was from the bookmaker it didn’t seem to help much, so I put it in the drawer of the writing-table in his room. The next morning I had to look out for the letter.’
    She paused and looked at Mr Campion with unflinching youthful eyes. ‘It wasn’t just curiosity,’ she said, ‘and I didn’t steam it or anything – I just opened it. You see, I thought that if the cheque was for a small amount uncle might be careless about it and not trouble to come back to collect it if it meant a row with great-aunt. But if it was a large amount I thought he would have been watching the papers, would realize how much he’d won and would risk any row that might be coming to him. The cheque gave me a shock. It was for nearly seven hundred and fifty pounds. I put it in the drawer with the telegram and I felt much happier, because I knew – I felt certain – that Uncle would come back during the day. But in the afternoon an idiotic thing happened that terrified me somehow, I don’t know why. A man came to see to the grandfather clock. There’d been some delay over it. And the weight had gone.’
    She looked at the young man dubiously. ‘I suppose that sounds awfully trivial?’
    Mr Campion, leaning back in his chair, regarded her solemnly through his spectacles.
    â€˜No,’ he said. ‘No, I quite agree with you. That’s rather abeastly thing to happen. You searched for it, of course? Asked everybody?’
    â€˜Oh, yes, of course. We hunted everywhere. But there’s no trace of it, and, you know, they’re difficult things to lose.’
    Campion nodded. ‘This is very interesting,’ he said. ‘When did you decide to call in outside help of some sort?’
    â€˜Yesterday,’ she said. ‘I waited all Monday night, and all Tuesday, and all yesterday morning, and I got more and more frightened. I went to great-aunt, but she was still adamant about the police. In the end I persuaded her to let me put the whole thing in Marcus’s hands. He was horribly superior about it, of course, but in the end he put me on to you and here I am.’
    â€˜Ah, Marcus,’ said Mr Campion. ‘How does he come into it exactly? He’s rather immature to be the family lawyer, isn’t he?’
    The girl smiled. ‘I suppose he is,’ she agreed, ‘but you mustn’t tell him that. As a matter of fact it’s his father, old Hugh Featherstone, who is great-aunt’s real solicitor, but he’s very old and so naturally Marcus does most of the work.’
    â€˜I see,’ said Mr Campion. ‘Why exactly do you want to find Uncle Andrew?’
    The suddenness of his question startled her a little, and she answered after a moment or two of hesitation.
    â€˜I don’t, frankly,’ she said at last. ‘That is, not personally, if you see what I mean. Uncle Andrew isn’t a lovable character. But then nor are any of them really, except perhaps poor Aunt Kitty, or great-aunt herself in a terrifying way. The house is quieter without Andrew. But I want to find him because I’m frightened. I want to know that he’s all right, that something terrible hasn’t happened.’
    â€˜I see,’ said Mr Campion slowly. ‘I suppose you’ve taken some steps – you made inquiries yourself? You’ve looked for him? I mean he hasn’t sprained his ankle in a ditch or he isn’t staying at the “Boar”?’
    She looked at him reproachfully. ‘Oh, of course, I’ve done that,’ she said. ‘But I tell you there’s absolutely no trace of him. I haven’t gone round making a fuss, you know, because naturally – well, gossip gets round fast enough in a place like Cambridge without one helping it. I’m afraid you’ll think it rathera cheek of me coming to you with so little to tell you. But