The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

was an unexpected development. Annoying.
    “There’s one of ’em now.” A tousled dark head appeared through the shrubbery and, finding itself observed, as quickly withdrew.
    “Up to mischief all the hours of the day and night. Don’t mean no harm though.”
    “No—unless they start collecting souvenirs.” Fredericka had no great love for children and a few weeks filling in for a children’s librarian in a branch on the lower east side of New York had given her a wholesome respect for their capacity for devilry. But country kids should be more manageable. Still… She was thoughtful for a moment. This could be used as a reasonable excuse to telephone the Police Station and ask for a man to guard the place. She couldn’t expect Peter to come another night—and she mustn’t admit to being afraid. No, if this worked it would be wonderful. She got up quickly and, after mumbling something to Chris about waiting a few minutes longer, she went in to the office to telephone.
    The sergeant on duty was polite but not very helpful. Once more, she asked to speak to the chief, and this request was followed by a long pause. Then, at last, she heard Thane Carey’s voice.
    “Sorry, Fredericka,” he said, before she could speak, “Sergeant Brown tells me you’ve had to call up and ask for a man and I had intended to send one around long ago. I might have known the kids wouldn’t miss this swell chance to play up. The trouble is I’ve got to get help from Worcester and the two men I asked for haven’t come in yet. But I’ll send Brown down anyway. I’ll be here until the others come in. They’re due any minute now.”
    “That’s all right, Thane, I’m afraid I’m being a nuisance. I wouldn’t mind so much except that it’s Miss Hartwell’s place, not mine.” She was pleased that her voice sounded casual and concerned, but not too concerned.
    “I know, and both Peter and I think you ought to have someone around anyway. In fact we’d like to strew men around all over the map. That’s why I have to have help.”
    “But there’s no hurry, Thane,” Fredericka said quickly, “I’ve got Chris here. It’s his afternoon off but I’m sure he’ll stay until your extra men arrive.”
    “O.K. then. Thanks.” The receiver clicked abruptly and Fredericka was aware of her disappointment. She had been longing to ask where the other men would be placed and whether or not there was any fresh news. But perhaps it was just as well for him to be businesslike, especially on the telephone. She got up and went back to the porch to collect the soiled dishes. Chris appeared to be half-asleep in the midday heat and when Frederick roused him, he seemed a little reluctant to stay on alone. For this reason, she decided to postpone her retreat to the orchard and returned without enthusiasm to her cluttered desk.
    As Fredericka worked, her mind kept returning to Margie. What had she been doing in the greenhouse in the middle of the night? Why had she been so upset today? Why did she want that miserable box? A sense of guilt overwhelmed Fredericka. If only she could bring herself to like the girl or even feel sorry for her, then she might have persuaded her to stay and have gotten a confession from her. Notebook. What absolute nonsense. The more she thought of Margie, the more her own sense of failure increased. Peter had always been so much kinder to the girl than she had been. He would have quieted her overwrought nerves and drawn her out slowly. What a fine Watson Fredericka was turning out to be, she thought, and what a fine compassionate motherly female, too.
    Fredericka was relieved to be released from these uncomfortable thoughts by the arrival of the policeman. It proved to be Sergeant Brown whom she knew, because it was he who had been on duty outside on the night of Catherine Clay’s death. He was a pleasant open-faced young man and much nicer, Fredericka decided, in the flesh than on the telephone. Perhaps it was the effect of the police station and the shadow of Thane Carey. She offered him iced coffee which he accepted with alacrity, and then said he’d tell Chris to go along and that he himself would “just hang about” outside. Fredericka told him of her plan to escape to the orchard to rest and work in peace and he nodded his approval.
    “I should think you’d be dead, Miss Wing,” he said. “This isn’t what we usually provide for newcomers to South Sutton, Mass.”
    “I’m quite aware of that.