The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

added: “Margaret’s only got a shoulder wound, but it’s no thanks to us. However, I did take one precaution.”
    A second later the crash came. Mrs. Hartwell appeared from the door of the house like a jack-in-the-box and Thane and Peter lifted Margaret Sutton gently and carried her into the living room.
    “Philippine can’t have survived it, I’m afraid,” Peter said. “I left my lovely Ford in the middle of the drive—just around the corner and she was going at a good clip. Anyway, Jim’s there to pick up the pieces. But we were a couple of mugs, Thane. I never dreamt she was armed and neither, I think, did you.”
    “Hadn’t a clue. My God, what a dame!”
    “You said it, wise guy, you said it. A cool customer—and how.”
    They left Mrs. Hartwell to sit by Margaret Sutton while Peter went to call Dr. Scott and Thane hurried off down the driveway.
    Chapter 16
    What had Peter said? “I’ll come loping over with all possible speed—wherever I am—”
    Well, he hadn’t come. Fredericka had tried to read, but it made her head ache. She had looked at her watch at least a hundred times and she had called Miss Sanders almost as many. But there was no sign of Peter.
    As the afternoon wore on, the room grew heavy with the summer heat and Fredericka’s arm and foot in their plaster cases throbbed and itched maddeningly. She turned over her pillows once more and lay back against them. The room was so white and clean and bare and smelt so persistently of disinfectant. There wasn’t even anything to look at except a small and very lazy fly making its unhurried way across the ceiling. She closed her eyes and groaned.
    The door opened and she sat up eagerly. But it was only Miss Sanders with a tray. “I brought you some iced tea. It’s getting hot again and this room always does seem to steam up in the summer. I wouldn’t have put you in here if I’d had any say about it.”
    I’m just patient to her. I’m not Fredericka Wing with the solution of the South Sutton murders in my helpless hands. I’m not Peter’s Dr. Watson to her, or to anyone else. I’m just nobody at all. Oh, dear God, where is he? Suddenly she was aware of the silence in the room and she said quickly, “Oh, Nurse, bless you for that tea, and forgive me for not saying so at once. The fact is I’m fed up with waiting. You see I’ve remembered something and I know it’s important to Colonel Mohun to know it. And now—now he just won’t come—”
    It was apparent to Miss Sanders that her patient was near tears. “There’s no need to carry on so, Miss Wing,” she said firmly. “You’ll only get yourself into such a state that you won’t be able to talk to Colonel Mohun when he does come. Now drink up your tea, like a good girl.”
    Fredericka fought back the silly tears: “Please can’t you stay with me a few minutes, Miss Sanders? I can’t read and there’s nothing to look at, and I hate to think.”
    Miss Sanders lowered her large body into the chair by the bed. Fredericka sipped her tea slowly and tried to think of things to talk about but conversation lagged, and presently her nurse got up. “I mustn’t sit here. I’ve all my other patients to see to I’m afraid. Shall I get you some aspirin for your head?”
    “No. No thanks. The tea was wonderful. I’ll be all right now.”
    Miss Sanders, obviously relieved, took her unhurried departure, and again Fredericka was left alone with her thoughts.
    It was dark when Peter finally came. Fredericka had, at length, fallen into an uneasy sleep, but she woke to hear slow footsteps coming down the corridor. That could not be Peter, she decided, and turned over to try to sleep again. Then the door opened and she sat up, blinking at the sudden light. Then she saw his face, and she was startled out of her own mood of hurt and self-pity. He wore no coat and his shirt was torn and stained with sweat. His hair was uncombed and his face was gray and lined. He looked old and utterly exhausted as he sank heavily into the chair. For a long time he said nothing.
    Fredericka reached out her good hand and touched him gently on the arm. “Are you all right, Peter?” she asked helplessly, knowing that he was not all right.
    “Yes, in body,” he said slowly. “Do you suppose this place could produce a brandy?”
    Fredericka pressed the silent button that was the modern vision of a bell and they both waited without speaking until, after what seemed a very long time, a young nurse