The White Cottage Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page B

Kathreen,’ he said, ‘I want you to try hard to remember what happened this afternoon. You spent most of the time up in the spare room with Miss Phillips sorting linen – did you?’
    â€˜Ye-e-s,’ said Kathreen, with a great effort.
    â€˜Good,’ said W.T., smiling. ‘And what did you do next?’
    â€˜I – I come downstairs to get tea,’ said Kathreen, ‘and I went into the pantry to get the butter and – ‘She broke off huskily and began to shake.
    â€˜And I heard the bang, sir.’
    â€˜Yes?’ said the detective, with that patience for which he was noted.
    â€˜Yes – and what did you do then?’
    Kathreen pulled herself together.
    â€˜I – I said “Oh!” sir, and dropped the butter,’ she said huskily.
    The old detective’s expression did not change.
    â€˜Very naturally,’ he said pleasantly. ‘And did you go straight into the hall after that?’
    â€˜No, sir,’ said Kathreen. ‘Cook made me pick up the butter first.’
    â€˜Oh, Cook was there too, was she?’
    â€˜Yes, sir.’
    â€˜When you heard the shot?’
    â€˜Yes, sir.’
    â€˜About how long was it after you heard the shot that you went into the hall – three minutes?’
    Kathreen hesitated.
    â€˜I dropped the butter first, sir – then I ran to the pantry door. Then Cook sent me back to pick up the butter. I did pick it up, and put it on to a clean plate; then I ran through the kitchen into the hall. It must have been about three minutes, sir.’
    â€˜Good girl,’ said the detective. ‘And when you reached the hall what did you see?’
    â€˜I saw the master edging his chair out of the drawing-room door, sir,’ said the girl. ‘Then the dining-room door burst open and Mrs Christensen came out screaming. I went into the dining-room, sir, and – ‘Her brown eyes dilated with horror, and she grew inarticulate.
    â€˜That’s all right, that’s all right, Kathreen,’ said the detective hastily, ‘that’s all I wanted to know. You can go now. Jerry, open the door for Miss Goody. That’s all right, my girl – don’t worry. Don’t think of what you saw. It’s all over now.’
    If ever Jerry bundled a woman out of a room he considered he did it then. He was afraid that she was going to faint again, and he saw her safely seated in the drawing-room with relief.
    Norah was in there too, seated near the fireplace. She smiled at him a little wanly as he came in, and he was just about to cross the room to speak to her when his eyes fell on a door in the wall that separated the drawing-room from the dining-room. He had not noticed it from the other side. It must open into the dark corner behind the heavy window-curtains, he reflected.
    The man in the invalid chair had been in the drawing-roomat the time of the murder. On his own admission it was three minutes after the shot before he came out into the hall. Might he not have spent that three minutes in darting back through this second doorway and getting himself across the room to the other into the hall? In the face of Estah’s story – in the face of the scorched tablecloth – in the face of Mrs Christensen’s admission of her husband’s jealousy – there seemed at that moment no other explanation of the mystery.
    Jerry pointed to the door and strove to speak naturally.
    â€˜I say,’ he said, ‘does that door open?’
    Norah looked up at him with surprise.
    â€˜Of course it does,’ she said. ‘Why?’
    â€˜It’s – it’s not kept locked?’ persisted Jerry.
    The girl leant across from her seat, and, turning the handle, pulled the door open.
    â€˜See?’ she said. ‘It’s always left like that. We use it often.’
    Jerry did not answer her. He was so overcome by his discovery that he turned on his heel abruptly and