The Spirit Murder Mystery Read Online Free PDF

Eileen.
    Arthur Orton was apparently flattered by the question. It implied that she valued his advice. He saw himself once more as the friend in need. He at once assumed a gravely judicial air.
    â€œWell, yes, I suppose it’s about the only thing you can do. Still, I shouldn’t be in too great a hurry, Miss Thurlow. Give the matter plenty of time. You mustn’t act hastily. Once the affair’s in the hands of the police, it becomes public property. It may even be broadcast, much to your uncle’s annoyance. He’s the sort of man who’d hate anything like that. Now this is Tuesday. If you don’t get word by Wednesday night, then I think it would be wise to go to the police. In the meantime, just try and keep control of your feelings, and should you want help, just ring me up.”
    Eileen again thanked him, and as he was on the point of departure, held out her hand. He took it between both his strong hands, held it and patted it affectionately. In Eileen’s rather distracted state of mind it was a very comforting gesture; its intimacy diffused a subtle air of protection. She felt she needed protection. For the moment she was thrilled, but as soon as Arthur Orton had gone, her mind at once reverted to the strange disappearance of her uncle, and, in spite of Orton’s matter-of-fact encouragement, her fears returned with doubled force. Surely something dreadful had happened to Uncle John? She sat helplessly pondering over the matter after her lunch, a meal which she had eaten without the slightest zest. Surely their little séance of the previous night could have no possible bearing on this baffling affair? She wondered. It was certain there were evil as well as beneficent spirits. It would be impossible to say what power the former might not be able to exert, if once in touch with the living. One assigned no limits to a spirit s potentialities. Eileen found it inconceivable that anyone could commit murder or suicide, unless driven by something in the nature of a dynamically evil spirit. In everyday language people spoke of the insane as “possessed.” In Scripture, they were “possessed of a devil.” It seemed feasible that at any time anybody, even an innocent and quite worthy being, might suddenly be seized upon as a temporary habitation by some unclean demon. The thought opened up a vista of horrible possibilities, conjured up disagreeable verbal associations, such as ghosts, furies, banshees, wraiths, ogres, genii, even succubi and succubae! She felt she must banish these morbid thoughts, and, rising from her chair, decided she would walk into the village and call on Dawn Garford. It would do her good to get a breath of fresh air and talk matters over with a friend.
    Dawn Garford was twenty-six years old and a widow. Her husband, an aviator, had been killed in a flying accident a year after their marriage. Her real name was Mrs. Button, but she was still known to the villagers as Miss Dawn Garford. Her husband had left her a competence, and she had come to live with her aunt in Yarham. She liked a country life, and in the country her modest income went very much further than in town.
    Eileen Thurlow soon made her acquaintance and they had become friends, not because they were strongly attracted to one another, but simply because, in a village like Yarham, the scope for friendships was extremely limited. In temperament they were diametrically opposed. Dawn Garford was an assured, material woman with superabundant energy, a cheerful disposition, and an insatiable desire to exercise her charms on men. Her bold, forceful character and reckless bearing won Eileen’s admiration, for the simple reason that she, herself, was shy, modest and cautious.
    On arriving at the Garfords’ house, a modern villa and incongruous in the general setting of Yarham, Eileen found Miss Julia Garford, Dawn’s aunt, in a mental and nervous state bordering on collapse. The arrival of