寓所谜案14

Thirteen

I hardly thought it likely that Mrs. Price Ridley had anything so dramaticin view, but I did wonder what had taken her to the police station. Hadshe really got evidence of importance, or that she thought of importance,to offer? At any rate, we should soon know.

We found Mrs. Price Ridley talking at a high rate of speed to a somewhatbewildered-looking police constable¹. That she was extremely indignant Iknew from the way the bow in her hat was trembling. Mrs. Price Ridleywears what, I believe, are known as “Hats for Matrons”—they make a spe-ciality of them in our adjacent town of Much Benham. They perch² easilyon a superstructure of hair and are somewhat overweighted with largebows of ribbon. Griselda is always threatening to get a matron’s hat.

Mrs. Price Ridley paused in her flow of words upon our entrance.

“Mrs. Price Ridley?” inquired Colonel Melchett, lifting his hat.

“Let me introduce Colonel Melchett to you, Mrs. Price Ridley,” I said.

“Colonel Melchett is our Chief Constable.”

Mrs. Price Ridley looked at me coldly, but produced the semblance³ of agracious smile for the Colonel.

“We’ve just been round to your house, Mrs. Price Ridley,” explained theColonel, “and heard you had come down here.”

Mrs. Price Ridley thawed⁴ altogether.

“Ah!” she said, “I’m glad some notice is being taken of the occurrence.

Disgraceful, I call it. Simply disgraceful.”

There is no doubt that murder is disgraceful, but it is not the word Ishould use to describe it myself. It surprised Melchett too, I could see.

“Have you any light to throw upon the matter?” he asked.

“That’s your business. It’s the business of the police. What do we payrates and taxes for, I should like to know?”

One wonders how many times that query⁵ is uttered in a year!

“We’re doing our best, Mrs. Price Ridley,” said the Chief Constable.

“But the man here hadn’t even heard of it till I told him about it!” criedthe lady.

We all looked at the constable.

“Lady been rung up on the telephone,” he said. “Annoyed. Matter of ob-scene language, I understand.”

“Oh! I see.” The Colonel’s brow cleared. “We’ve been talking at crosspurposes. You came down here to make a complaint, did you?”

Melchett is a wise man. He knows that when it is a question of an iratemiddle-aged lady, there is only one thing to be done—listen to her. Whenshe had said all that she wants to say, there is a chance that she will listento you.

Mrs. Price Ridley surged into speech.

“Such disgraceful occurrences ought to be prevented. They ought not tooccur. To be rung up in one’s own house and insulted—yes, insulted. I’mnot accustomed to such things happening. Ever since the war there hasbeen a loosening of moral fibre. Nobody minds what they say, and as tothe clothes they wear—”

“Quite,” said Colonel Melchett hastily. “What happened exactly?”

Mrs. Price Ridley took breath and started again.

“I was rung up—”

“When?”

“Yesterday afternoon—evening to be exact. About half past six. I went tothe telephone, suspecting nothing. Immediately I was foully⁶ attacked,threatened—”

“What actually was said?”

Mrs. Price Ridley got slightly pink.

“That I decline to state.”

“Obscene language,” murmured the constable in a ruminative⁷ bass⁸.

“Was bad language used?” asked Colonel Melchett.

“It depends on what you call bad language.”

“Could you understand it?” I asked.

“Of course I could understand it.”

“Then it couldn’t have been bad language,” I said.

Mrs. Price Ridley looked at me suspiciously.

“A refined lady,” I explained, “is naturally unacquainted with bad lan-guage.”

“It wasn’t that kind of thing,” said Mrs. Price Ridley. “At first, I must ad-mit, I was quite taken in. I thought it was a genuine message. Then the—er—person became abusive.”

“Abusive?”

“Most abusive. I was quite alarmed.”

“Used threatening language, eh?”

“Yes. I am not accustomed to being threatened.”

“What did they threaten you with? Bodily damage?”

“Not exactly.”

“I’m afraid, Mrs. Price Ridley, you must be more explicit⁹. In what waywere you threatened?”

This Mrs. Price Ridley seemed singularly reluctant to answer.

“I can’t remember exactly. It was all so upsetting. But right at the end—when I was really very upset, this—this—wretch laughed.”

“Was it a man’s voice or a woman’s?”

“It was a degenerate¹⁰ voice,” said Mrs. Price Ridley, with dignity. “I canonly describe it as a kind of perverted¹¹ voice. Now gruff, now squeaky.

Really a very peculiar¹² voice.”

“Probably a practical joke,” said the Colonel soothingly¹³.

“A most wicked thing to do, if so. I might have had a heart attack.”

“We’ll look into it,” said the Colonel; “eh, Inspector¹⁴? Trace the telephonecall. You can’t tell me more definitely exactly what was said, Mrs. PriceRidley?”

A struggle began in Mrs. Price Ridley’s ample black bosom¹⁵. The desirefor reticence¹⁶ fought against a desire for vengeance¹⁷. Vengeance triumphed.

“This, of course, will go no further,” she began.

“Of course not.”

“This creature began by saying—I can hardly bring myself to repeat it—”

“Yes, yes,” said Melchett encouragingly.

“‘You are a wicked scandal-mongering old woman!’ Me, Colonel Melchett—a scandal-mongering old woman. ‘But this time you’ve gone too far. Scot-land Yard are after you for libel.’”

“Naturally, you were alarmed,” said Melchett, biting his moustache toconceal a smile.

“‘Unless you hold your tongue in future, it will be the worse for you—in moreways than one.’ I can’t describe to you the menacing way that was said. Igasped, ‘who are you?’ faintly—like that, and the voice answered, ‘TheAvenger.’ I gave a little shriek¹⁸. It sounded so awful, and then—the personlaughed. Laughed! Distinctly. And that was all. I heard them hang up thereceiver. Of course I asked the exchange what number had been ringingme up, but they said they didn’t know. You know what exchanges are.

Thoroughly¹⁹ rude and unsympathetic.”

“Quite,” I said.

“I felt quite faint,” continued Mrs. Price Ridley. “All on edge and sonervous that when I heard a shot in the woods, I do declare I jumped al-most out of my skin. That will show you.”

“A shot in the woods?” said Inspector Slack alertly.

“In my excited state, it simply sounded to me like a cannon²⁰ going off.

‘Oh!’ I said, and sank down on the sofa in a state of prostration²¹. Clara hadto bring me a glass of damson gin.”

“Shocking,” said Melchett. “Shocking. All very trying for you. And theshot sounded very loud, you say? As though it were near at hand?”

“That was simply the state of my nerves.”

“Of course. Of course. And what time was all this? To help us in tracingthe telephone call, you know.”

“About half past six.”

“You can’t give it us more exactly than that?”

“Well, you see, the little clock on my mantelpiece had just chimed thehalf hour, and I said, ‘Surely that clock is fast.’ (It does gain, that clock.)And I compared it with the watch I was wearing and that only said tenminutes past, but then I put it to my ear and found it had stopped. So Ithought: ‘Well, if that clock is fast, I shall hear the church tower in a mo-ment or two.’ And then, of course, the telephone bell rang, and I forgot allabout it.” She paused breathless.

“Well, that’s near enough,” said Colonel Melchett. “We’ll have it lookedinto for you, Mrs. Price Ridley.”

“Just think of it as a silly joke, and don’t worry, Mrs. Price Ridley,” I said.

She looked at me coldly. Evidently the incident of the pound note stillrankled.

“Very strange things have been happening in this village lately,” shesaid, addressing herself to Melchett. “Very strange things indeed. ColonelProtheroe was going to look into them, and what happened to him, poorman? Perhaps I shall be the next?”

And on that she took her departure, shaking her head with a kind ofominous melancholy²². Melchett muttered under his breath: “No such luck.”

Then his face grew grave, and he looked inquiringly at Inspector Slack.

That worthy²³ nodded his head slowly.

“This about settles it, sir. That’s three people who heard the shot. We’vegot to find out now who fired it. This business of Mr. Redding’s hasdelayed us. But we’ve got several starting points. Thinking Mr. Reddingwas guilty, I didn’t bother to look into them. But that’s all changed now.

And now one of the first things to do is look up that telephone call.”

“Mrs. Price Ridley’s?”

The Inspector grinned.

“No—though I suppose we’d better make a note of that or else we shallhave the old girl bothering in here again. No, I meant that fake call thatgot the Vicar out of the way.”

“Yes,” said Melchett, “that’s important.”

“And the next thing is to find out what everyone was doing that eveningbetween six and seven. Everyone at Old Hall, I mean, and pretty welleveryone in the village as well.”

I gave a sigh.

“What wonderful energy you have, Inspector Slack.”

“I believe in hard work. We’ll begin by just noting down your ownmovements, Mr. Clement²⁴.”

“Willingly. The telephone call came through about half past five.”

“A man’s voice, or a woman’s?”

“A woman’s. At least it sounded like a woman’s. But of course I took itfor granted it was Mrs. Abbott speaking.”

“You didn’t recognize it as being Mrs. Abbott’s?”

“No, I can’t say I did. I didn’t notice the voice particularly or think aboutit.”

“And you started right away? Walked? Haven’t you got a bicycle?”

“No.”

“I see. So it took you—how long?”

“It’s very nearly two miles, whichever way you go.”

“Through Old Hall woods is the shortest way, isn’t it?”

“Actually, yes. But it’s not particularly good going. I went and came backby the footpath²⁵ across the fields.”

“The one that comes out opposite the Vicarage gate?”

“Yes.”

“And Mrs. Clement?”

“My wife was in London. She arrived back by the 6:50 train.”

“Right. The maid I’ve seen. That finishes with the Vicarage. I’ll be off toOld Hall next. And then I want an interview with Mrs. Lestrange. Queer,her going to see Protheroe the night before he was killed. A lot of queerthings about this case.”

I agreed.

Glancing at the clock, I realized that it was nearly lunchtime. I invitedMelchett to partake of potluck with us, but he excused himself on the pleaof having to go to the Blue Boar. The Blue Boar gives you a first-rate mealof the joint²⁶ and two-vegetable type. I thought his choice was a wise one.

After her interview with the police, Mary would probably be feeling moretemperamental than usual.

 

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