The Santa Klaus Murder Read Online Free PDF

so that would be available. Patricia was delighted to have Carol and I insisted that Patricia’s only hope of salvation with this uncle was to go and buy this present and send it off at once, because I knew Carol had some shopping of her own to do in Bristol and there would be little hope of her getting the use of the Sunbeam.
    â€œHadn’t we better wait till this afternoon?” Carol suggested insanely. “Aunt Eleanor will be here by lunch time and she may want to do some shopping too.”
    â€œIt would be very difficult to manage three people’s shopping in one car!” Patricia protested. “I mean, everyone has their own ideas about shops and we should all want to go in different directions and it’s so confusing and there’d be all sorts of complications about waiting for everyone in different places. Besides, there’ll be such a mob in the afternoon. It’ll be bad enough this morning.”
    â€œBesides,” Dittie reminded them, “Eleanor never forgets; she’s like the elephant. All her presents will have been done up neatly in holly paper and all her cards addressed, and no one forgotten, long ago. You’d better be off as soon as you can, and be back punctually for lunch.” Dittie had already announced that she and David were driving over to Manton to lunch with the FitzPaines, so she was rather pleased to remind Patricia that it was her duty to return punctually.
    Then Patricia began to fuss again. “I’m really not sure whether it’s better to risk sending the man two presents or none at all, and perhaps write later, if he didn’t acknowledge it, and say I hoped it hadn’t been lost in the post. You never can tell at Christmas time. It is difficult.”
    â€œOh, Aunt Pat!” Carol protested. “We’ve gone over all that already. It’s far, far better to risk sending him two; at the worst he’ll think you’re a little forgetful, but no one minds anyone being forgetful in that way. Now do get a move on!”
    â€œAll this hurrying business is no good at all while George is still hanging over the marmalade,” Patricia pointed out.
    â€œ I’ll go and stir him up!” cried Carol, bolting off.
    She was back in a few minutes. “Aunt Pat! Marvellous! George says I may drive the Austin! I’ve got a driving license, because it so often comes in handy for driving other people’s cars. He doesn’t mind a bit and I’m awfully safe.”
    Carol is one of those fortunate people who inspire confidence and she often gets cars lent her.
    â€œWell, of course, poor George does hate shopping—” began Patricia doubtfully.
    â€œNow rush and do your hatting and furring, Aunt Pat, and we’ll start in two minutes,” Carol urged.
    It is typical of the way Carol gets away with everything that she can call Patricia “Aunt Pat”—which is ridiculous, because George’s wife is so obviously a thorough “Patricia”—and still be approved of. Other people get frightfully squashed if they use that name.
    Just when Patricia was half-way upstairs, Parkins came in with the parcel post, which had just arrived. Enid, Kit and Clare, Patricia’s three children, and also Carol, swooped on it. Patricia stopped, unable to decide whether to go on up or come down again. Father emerged from the dining-room. I could see at once that he was dramatising himself as the benevolent grandfather.
    â€œNow, children!” he boomed. “No parcels for you! Don’t you know that yours don’t come by the postman? They come by the reindeer sleigh.”
    The children still scrambled and squealed. Enid, who is nearly ten, and Kit, who is eight, obviously disbelieved their grandfather’s statement. Enid looked up to announce: “The postman’s brought one for me, anyway! I saw it! Oh, Kit, you are clumsy; you’ve covered it up!” She caught her