The Price of Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

like.”
    That struck me as odd. “Moved away, you say? How would we know to make contact with her if the girl were found?”
    “That ain’t my problem, is it?”
    “No, I suppose not.”
    This was most odd. Perhaps she had told Constable Patley of her intention to move and of her new location—and he had simply neglected to pass it on to Mr. Marsden. Yes, perhaps—but all the same, it was odd. I stood, pondering the matter there on the woman’s doorstep, until I happened to note that she had become a bit restless: she wanted me gone.
    “Just a question or two more,” said I, hoping to hold her.
    “Well, make it fast. I’ve not got all day.”
    “Fair enough. Who’s living in her place now?”
    “That’s the peculiarest part,” said she. “Ain’t nobody living there, as near as I can judge. I’ve had my ear to the wall for near a month now, but I’ve not heard nothin’ from next door. I saw her leave and gave her a wave goodbye. Last thing she said to me was, ‘Katy, I’m goin’ on a holiday, and I just might not ever come back.’”
    “But then again, she might,” I suggested.
    “Might what?”
    “Might come back.”
    “Oh. Well, maybe, I suppose. It’s just, if I had all the money she’s got, I wouldn’t come back, and you can be sure of it.”
    All the money she’s got? This was something new, wasn’t it?
    “When was this?” I asked.
    “Well, it was the day after little Maggie disappeared. She didn’t exactly show me all this money she had. She showed me her purse, though, and rattled it for me. I was just sure I heard guineas in there, along with bulls, neds, and bobsticks—all manner of His Majesty’s coinage.”
    “Didn’t that make you just a little suspicious?”
    “Suspicious at what?”
    “Suspicious that she may have . . . well, that she may have sold her daughter?”
    “And what if she did? say I. Maggie was hers to sell, wasn’t she?”
    “That’s not what the law says.”
    “Ah, well, the law,” she sneered. “The law is for nobs and such.”
    “Well, you should know then, Mistress . . . Mistress . . . What is your name, anyway?”
    She raised her chin and gave me a sharp look. “Katy Tiddle, if you will! Now, you tell me, what is this that I should know?”
    And having made her demand, she raised the pistol she had pointed at me through the crack in the door and pointed it at me once again. And she did so most threateningly. Nevertheless, I noted that she had not pulled back the hammer on the pistol. I wondered if she could manage it; I wondered further if the pistol were loaded; and, finally, did I wonder if she had ever before fired such a weapon. If you judge from this that I was in no wise intimidated, then you judge the matter correctly.
    “You should know,” said I, “that young Maggie is dead. At least we think it’s Maggie. I’d come here that I might collect Alice Plummer and bring her to the medico to identify the body there as Maggie’s.”
    “Can’t do that now, though,” said she with a smirk, “can you?”
    I noted that she had allowed the pistol barrel to droop, and she had not yet thought to draw back the hammer. And so, in one swift movement, I grasped the pistol and wrested it from her resisting hand.
    “But you know her as a neighbor,” said I, “so you’ll do just as well. Come along.”
    Then did she not howl and yelp! She sounded as would a lowly cur in pain.
    Indeed, she did carry on in this manner all the way to Drury Lane and Mr. Donnelly’s surgery. Halfway to our destination, she did calm down sufficient to allow me to unhand her wrist and take her properly by the elbow. I would not release her completely, for I feared, with good cause, that she would dart into some dark warren at the earliest opportunity, and I might thus lose her altogether. Nevertheless, guiding her with a firm hand, I set a swift pace, and we were quickly cross the distance.
    Somewhere along the way, it became evident that her objection had little