The Bungalow Mystery Read Online Free PDF

change that passed over the face of the girl sitting at his right. He rose.
    â€œYou should not alarm Miss Chilton in that way, Mary. Tell Constable Frost I will speak to him in a minute. Aunt Minnie, I did not mean to tell you until the morning of the sad fate that has overtaken our neighbour, Rheinhart. But there is nothing to alarm you.”
    â€œHe is dead!” Miss Chilton gasped.
    Roger nodded.
    Through the half-open door Constable Frost’s keen little eyes were taking in every detail of the homelike scene—the well-appointed dinner-table, the frail old lady at the top, the pretty pale girl bending over her.
    â€œAnd—and the murderer is still at large!” Miss Chilton went on, with a little sob. “I am frightened, Roger.”
    Lavington looked away from the girl who was chafing the old lady’s hands.
    â€œI think you are quite safe, Aunt Minnie; I will take care of you. But I must speak to Frost a minute. What is it, constable?”—as he stepped out into the hall—“Any success?”
    â€œWe haven’t found her so far, sir. The inspector, he seems to think that she must have come through your garden, and he has sent me to tell you he will be compelled to make a search. He thought it well to let you know first in case of alarming the ladies.”
    Was it his fancy, Roger wondered, or was there a slight indefinable pause before the last word? He glanced up sharply. Constable Frost’s face was as imperturbably stolid as ever; his eyes were glancing apologetically at Miss Chilton.
    â€œCertainly. Please tell Inspector Stables to make as complete a search as he likes. Is there anything else I can do for you, constable?”
    â€œNo. That is all, thank you, sir,” he replied.
    Outside, in the hall, the dining-room door closed; Constable Frost became suddenly exceedingly affable with the house-parlourmaid.
    â€œNice-looking young lady that!” he observed communicatively. “Who might she be, I wonder?”
    â€œShe is Miss Lavington, the doctor’s cousin. She has come over to take part in the play-acting at Freshfield to-morrow,” Mary returned. “Oh, Mr. Frost, I am that upset about this murder, I hardly durst open the door! And as for going to bed, me and Cook mean to sit up all night!”
    â€œThat would be a sensible thing to do,” remarked the constable satirically. “You can go to bed safe enough, Mary”—with a playful pinch of her arm—“I’ll look after you.”

Chapter Three
    â€œI am so sorry, Roger. Zoe says that she will be obliged to go away in the morning. Her father wants her, she tells me. I do think that, coming all this way, Dr. Lavington might have spared her to us a little longer.” And gentle Miss Chilton looked quite aggrieved.
    â€œYes; it is a pity she has to go!” Roger assented absently.
    He was standing by the window, his eyes glancing over the garden where Inspector Stables’s men had made sad havoc among the daffodils and hyacinths, in the course of their search for the murderer of Maximilian von Rheinhart, the night before.
    â€œZoe” put her arm caressingly through Miss Chilton’s.
    â€œIt is awfully kind of you to want to keep me,” she said in her pretty, flute-like voice.
    â€œNot at all, my dear,” Miss Chilton contradicted plaintively. “Or at least, I am kind to myself. It is often very dull when Roger is away; and you are so good to an old woman. At least, if you cannot stay longer now, you must promise to come again very soon and give us a little more of your society.”
    There was a momentary pause; then “Zoe” stooped and softly kissed the old lady’s withered cheek.
    â€œThank you very much. I, too, hope we shall meet again before long.”
    Roger stirred impatiently.
    â€œThey are bringing the car round. Come, Zoe. I hope you know your part.”
    â€œI am word-perfect,” the girl