The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

Miss Wing, if I’ve disturbed you.” Was there a hint of a smile on his face? Really this was unbearable. “I’m afraid it’s all in the line of duty. May we come in?”
    “If you must, you must.” Fredericka stepped aside for them to enter, and then turned to go back upstairs.
    “I’d like to have a few words with you, Miss Wing, if it’s possible,” the chief of police announced to her retreating back.
    She looked down from the landing. “Very well, but, if you don’t have any objection, I would like to dress first.”
    “By all means. There’s no rush. I’m going to put my two men onto a thorough examination of the grounds. And I will do the house myself, if you don’t mind.”
    Fredericka said nothing in reply. What was there to say to this officious intrusion? She went into her bedroom, shut the door and started to dress slowly. The routine movements had a quieting effect on her and she began reluctantly to regret her unreasonable anger, and to remember that Thane Carey even if he was the chief of police of South Sutton, was also Peter Mohun’s friend.
    She finished dressing quickly and hurried down the stairs to find Thane busily reading her sheets of manuscript on the desk. At this sight, her anger boiled up again, but she managed to keep it in check, and she made no mention of this unpardonable act of prying. Instead she said, slowly: “I’m afraid I was rude to you. You see, you woke me up to all this mess and I’ve had more than enough of it already.”
    “You don’t like death in the country as much as you thought you would, then?”
    “I guess I’d rather keep it inside covers,” she admitted. Was he implying that this was not a natural death? What did he mean? She had been talking yesterday about murder , and this—“Will you have some breakfast with me?” she said quickly. “I think, if you don’t mind, I’ll have some anyway. I—I need it!”
    “Of course, and I’ll join you with pleasure, but just for coffee. I’ve eaten already.”
    Fredericka retreated to the kitchen and tried not to look out the window. But the impulse was too strong for her and then she saw with relief that, not only the body, but the hammock as well, had disappeared. In the near distance a policeman was beating his way slowly and systematically through the shrubbery like a bloodhound on the scent. She turned away from the window and busied herself with breakfast.
    Twenty minutes later she sat opposite Thane Carey at the small kitchen table. Sun streamed in through the open window that looked out on the back yard. The sound of bees already busy in the petunias bordering the path outside, emphasized the heavy silence between them. At last Thane spoke, but he looked down at the black coffee in his cup and stirred it unnecessarily.
    “I’m sorry about this, Miss Wing,” he said quietly. “Yesterday at the bazaar you and Mohun and my wife and I were friends theorizing about murder. Today, mur—” he coughed, “today death has made a sudden change in our relationship. You must forgive me for my intrusion on your privacy. When these things happen we policemen are forced to forget everything but our duty. All the same, I see no reason why we can’t both make the best of it and continue to be friends.”
    “Of course, and I am sorry. I’m not my best in the early morning. Coffee helps, though.” They smiled at each other across the table and then, before Thane could speak, Fredericka continued quickly: “You—you don’t think it really is murder, do you? Mrs. Sutton said she sometimes took dope. Couldn’t it be just an overdose by accident as she suggested—or—or at best, suicide—?”
    Something in her tone made Carey look up and study her face. “I don’t know a thing, and I haven’t meant to imply anything, either. We must wait for an autopsy. May I ask why you think it to be murder? You don’t honestly believe it to be either accident or suicide, do you?”
    “I—why? Oh dear, you’re too clever for me. I suppose I have felt it to be so from the start. Perhaps it’s just because I had too much to say yesterday. But, well, something in that awful look on her face—and, you’ll not forgive me for this—something in the atmosphere—has made me imagine things.”
    “I see. Well, now, my policeman reports that you kept the light on all night. If you wanted company why didn’t you let Mrs. Hartwell stay?”
    “Oh, I couldn’t sleep; so I got up, made coffee, and worked