No Business of Mine

“Yeah, I’d forgotten that,” I said, wandering over to the writing-desk that stood in the window recess. “Well, I suppose you’ll look for this guy?” I opened the lid of the desk, glanced inside. There were no papers, no letters. All the pigeon-holes had been carefully cleared. “She tidied up before she threw in her hand,” I pointed out. “Any letters or papers anywhere?”

He shook his head.

“No means of checking if the handwriting of the note is really Anne’s?”

“My dear fellow...” he began a little tartly.

“Skip it,” I said. “I’ve a suspicious nature. Find anything interesting?”

“Nothing,” he returned, eyed me narrowly. “I’ve searched the place thoroughly; there’s nothing to connect her with forged bonds, diamond rings or anything like that. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’ll get over it,” I said, grinning. “Just give me time. Find any silk stockings in the place?”

“I didn’t look for silk stockings,” he snapped back. “I’ve more important things to do.”

“Let’s look,” I said. “I have a thing about silk stockings. Where’s the bedroom?”

“Now look here, Harmas, this has gone far enough. I’ve let you in...”

“For your rupture’s sake, if not for me, calm down,” I said, patting him on his arm. “What’s the harm in looking? Netta had silk stockings and they vanished. Anne may have had silk stockings and they may still be here. Let’s look.”

He gave me an exasperated glare, turned to the door. “Wait here,” he said, began to mount the stairs.

I kept on his heels. “You may need me. Always a good thing to have a witness.”

He led the way into a small but luxuriously furnished bedroom, went immediately to a chest of drawers and began to paw over a mass of silk undies, sweaters and scarves.

“You handle that stuff like a married man,” I said, opened the wardrobe, peered in. There were only two frocks and a two-piece costume hanging up. “She didn’t have many clothes, poor kid,” I went on. “Maybe she couldn’t get coupons, or do you think she was a nudist?”

He scowled at me. “There’re no stockings here,” he said.

“No stockings of any kind at all?”

“No.”

“Seems to confirm my nudist theory, doesn’t it?” I said. “You might like to turn this stocking angle over in your nimble, sharp-witted mind. I’m going to do that myself, and I’m going to keep at it until I find out why neither of these girls had any stockings.”

“What the hell are you driving at?” Corridan burst out. “You have a shilling-shocker mind. Who do you think you are-Perry Mason?”

“Don’t tell me you read detective stories,” I said, surprised. “Well, what happens now?”

“I’m waiting for the ambulance,” Corridan said, following me downstairs. “The body will be taken to the Horsham mortuary, and the inquest will also be held there. I don’t expect anything will come out at the inquest. It’s pretty straightforward.” But he sounded worried.

“Do you really think she learned about Netta’s suicide and followed suit?” I asked.

“Why not?” he returned. “You’d be surprised how suicides follow in families. We have a bunch of statistics about it.”

“I was forgetting you worked by rule of thumb,” I returned. “What was the idea of keeping me out until you sniffed around?”

“Now see here, Harmas, you have no damn business here at all. You are here on sufferance,” Corridan retorted. “This is a serious business, and I can’t have rubbernecks watching me work.”

“Calling me a rubberneck is as big a lie as calling what you do work,” I said sadly. “But never mind. I’ll behave, and thanks for the break anyway.”

He looked sharply at me to see if I was kidding, decided I was, compressed his lips.

“Well, that’s all there’s to see. You’d better be moving before the ambulance arrives.”

“Yeah, I’ll be off,” I said, wandering to the front door. “You wouldn’t be interested in my theory about this second death I suppose?”

“Not in the slightest,” he said firmly.

“I thought as much. It’s a pity, because I think I could have put you on the right lines. I guess you’ll have a guard on the body this time? You don’t want it stolen like the other was, do you?”

“Oh, rubbish,” he said crossly. “Nothing like that’ll happen. But I’m taking precautions if that’s what you mean.”

“Oddly enough, that’s exactly what I do mean,” I said, smiled at him, opened the door. “Be seeing you, pal,” I went on, left him.

I winked at the policeman at the gate, got into the Buick and drove slowly down the lane. I had a lot to think about, and I didn’t quite know where to start. I thought it mightn’t be a bad idea to have a word with Mrs. Brambee. That seemed the obvious starting-point.

I knew her cottage couldn’t be far, as Bert, the policeman, had only been a few minutes fetching her. I didn’t want Corridan to know what I was up to, so I drove to the end of the lane, parked the Buick behind a thicket, and walked back. I was lucky to meet a farmhand who pointed Mrs. Brambee’s place out to me. It was small and dilapidated with a wild, overgrown garden.