Wexford 6 - No More Dying Then Read Online Free PDF

had her regular lessons on Saturdays, but this was an extra one, arranged to take advantage of her half-term holiday. The stepfather, Ivor Swan, drove her to Equita from their home at Hall Farm in Kingsmarkham, but there was some doubt as to how she was to get home again.”
       “What d’you mean, doubt?”
       “After she disappeared both Ivor and Rosalind Swan said Stella had told them she would get a lift home in a friend’s car, as she sometimes did as far as Kingsmarkham, but it appeared that Stella had had no such idea and expected Swan to pick her up. When it got to six o’clock - the lesson ended at four-fifteen - Rosalind Swan, having checked with the friend, phoned us.”
       “We went first to Equita, saw Miss Williams who runs the school and her assistant, a Mrs. Fenn, and were told that Stella had left alone at four-thirty. By now it was raining hard and the rain had begun at about four-forty. Eventually we made contact with a man who had passed Stella at four-forty and offered her a lift to Stowerton. At this time she was walking along Mill Lane towards Stowerton. She refused his offer which made us think she was a sensible girl who wouldn’t take lifts from strangers.”
       “She was twelve, wasn’t she?” Burden put in,
       “Twelve, slight and fair-haired. The man who offered her the lift is called Walter Hill and he’s the manager of that little branch of the Midland Bank in Forby. If misguided, he’s perfectly respectable and had nothing to do with her disappearance. We checked and double-checked him. No one else ever came forward to say he had seen Stella. She walked out of Equita, apparently believing she would meet her stepfather, and vanished into thin air.”
       “I can’t go into all the details now, but of course we investigated Ivor Swan with the utmost care. Apart from the fact that he no real alibi for that afternoon, we had no real reason to believe he wished harm to Stella. She liked Swan, she even seemed to have had a sort of crush on him. Not one relative or friend of the Swans could tell of any trouble whatsoever in their household. And yet . . .”
       “And yet what?”
       Wexford hesitated. “You know those feelings I get, Mike, those almost supernatural sensations that some thing isn’t, well - well, quite right?”
       Burden nodded. He did.
       “I felt it there. But it was only a feeling. People boast of their intuition because they only care to remember the times they’ve been proved right. I never let myself forget the numberless times my premonitions have been wrong. We never found the least thing to pin on Swan. We shall have to resurrect the case tomorrow. Where are you going?”
       “Back to Mrs. Lawrence,” said Burden.

    An anxious-looking Mrs. Crantock admitted him to the house.
       “I don’t think I’ve been much help,” she whispered to him in the hall. “We aren’t very close, you see, just neighbours whose children play with each other. I didn’t know what to say to her. I mean, normally we’d discuss our little boys, but now - well, I didn’t feel . . .” She gave a helpless shrug. “And you can’t talk to her about ordinary things, you know. You never can. Not about the house or what goes on in the neighbourhood.” Her forehead wrinkled as she made a mammoth effort to explain the inexplicable. “Perhaps if I could talk about books or - or something. She just isn’t like any one else I know.”
       “I’m sure you’ve done very well,” said Burden. He thought he knew very well what Mrs. Lawrence would like to talk about. Her idea of conversation would be an endless analysis of the emotions.
       “Well, I tried,” Mrs. Crantock raised her voice. ‘I’m going now, Gemma, but I’ll come back later if you want me.”
       Gemma. A curious name. He didn’t think he had ever come across it before. She would have an outlandish name, either because her equally eccentric parents had labelled her with