The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

never forgive myself for that.”
    “As it turned out, Jim, it solved the case for us so—just forget it, kid.”
    They drove on in silence until, as they approached the Farm, Peter said: “You’re armed, of course?”
    “Yes. I’d just taken off my belt to make room for my dinner when you came. But reached for it automatic-like when I saw you through the window.”
    “Good. Sorry about that meal.”
    “It’ll keep.”
    They were now moving slowly up the driveway. “I’m going to stop short of the last curve and out of sight of the house. And I’m attempting to make our approach a quiet one but perhaps you hadn’t noticed.”
    Jim laughed. “These old flivvers can go but they sure do make a row about it. Saw your new buggy down at the garage. Nice job.”
    Peter smiled. “Funny how news gets around in South Sutton, Mass.,” he said. “It’s a lucky thing I’ve got that car in hand. Look here—this is what I want you to do.” He stopped the Ford in the middle of the drive just before the wide curve that led up to the front door. Then the two men sat quietly for a few moments while Peter outlined his plans.
    As Peter walked alone up the road to the house there was no sound except the shrill notes of the crickets and the subdued crunch of his own feet on the gravel. Midsummer peace, he thought, and peace it might have been if Fredericka’s devil hadn’t decided to have them all for—how long had it been? She’d sneezed on that first Sunday, a week later she’d found Catherine Clay dead in her hammock, after another week Margie Hartwell had died. No wonder South Sutton had taken a dim view of the advent of Fredericka. And yet, if it hadn’t been for her there would still have been the deaths and, quite likely, no solution. There was no doubt about it, South Sutton owed a great deal to Fredericka Wing and her warning sneeze. And Peter Mohun—there was no doubt about that, either.
    There was no one about as Peter walked up on the porch and pushed the screen door gently. It flew back from his hand with a protesting shriek of its rusty spring. He cursed silently.
    “Who’s that?” someone called.
    “Only Peter Mohun,” he answered.
    “Oh, Peter—come on out to the back porch. You’re in time for iced tea.” Peter walked through the hall and the long living room to the screened porch and paused in the open doorway. Thane Carey was sitting in a large armchair and Mrs. Sutton on the couch near him. She was darning socks. A tray with a pitcher of iced tea and some tall glasses stood on a table between them. There was no one else in the room.
    The effect of this quiet domestic scene on Peter was one of acute anticlimax. He stood for a moment and stared at them blankly. Then he said hoarsely, “Carey—I’m sorry Margaret—but Carey, I must have a word with you—at once.”
    Thane Carey stood up and came toward him. “Outside. I’m keeping an eye on the one door of the lab,” he said quietly. The two men disappeared.
    A second later Margaret Sutton put down her sock and followed them.
    The minute they were out of the house, Peter said: “I’ve got the evidence but I can’t stop to explain. Where is she?”
    “Are you looking for Philippine?” Mrs. Sutton asked quietly.
    Both men jumped and swung around to face her. Margaret Sutton looked first at Thane and then at Peter. When neither of them spoke she went on slowly: “Oh, I know. I have watched you watching her, Thane, but I knew long ago—even before you did, I’m afraid. I thought—oh dear, what difference does it make now what I thought. She’s been in the lab all day. She’s still there, isn’t she, Thane?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re going to arrest her, then?”
    This time it was Peter who said, “Yes. We must. And at once.”
    Margaret Sutton put her hand on Peter’s arm and he looked up at her quickly. How old she looks, he thought, and how inexpressibly sad and tired. “May I ask you one favour?” she said. “Let me talk to her first. She’s not to blame.” She looked steadily at the set faces that stared back at her.
    The two men looked at each other and then Thane answered her. “Of course, Margaret, if you insist. But we will go with you—and we are both armed. You understand that?”
    “Yes. I understand. But it isn’t necessary.”
    They walked slowly along the path to the laboratory. Inside they stopped and listened. Then Mrs. Sutton called, “Phil, where are you?”
    “Here in the herb room, Aunt