Sixteen

COLIN LAMB’S NARRATIVE

II noticed when Sheila Webb slipped quietly out of the Coroner’s Court.

She’d given her evidence very well. She had looked nervous but not un-duly nervous. Just natural, in fact. (What would Beck say? “Quite a goodperformance.” I could hear him say it!)

I took in the surprise finish of Doctor Rigg’s evidence. (Dick Hardcastlehadn’t told me that, but he must have known) and then I went after her.

“It wasn’t so bad after all, was it?” I said, when I had caught her up.

“No. It was quite easy really. The coroner was very nice.” She hesitated.

“What will happen next?”

“He’ll adjourn the inquest—for further evidence. A fortnight probablyor until they can identify the dead man.”

“You think they will identify him?”

“Oh, yes,” I said. “They’ll identify him all right. No doubt of that.”

She shivered. “It’s cold today.”

It wasn’t particularly cold. In fact I thought it was rather warm.

“What about an early lunch?” I suggested. “You haven’t got to go back toyour typewriting place, have you?”

“No. It’s closed until two o’clock.”

“Come along then. How do you react to Chinese food? I see there’s alittle Chinese restaurant just down the street.”

Sheila looked hesitant.

“I’ve really got to do some shopping.”

“You can do it afterwards.”

“No, I can’t—some of the shops close between one and two.”

“All right then. Will you meet me there? In half an hour’s time?”

She said she would.

I went along to the seafront and sat there in a shelter. As the wind wasblowing straight in from the sea, I had it to myself.

I wanted to think. It always infuriates one when other people knowmore about you than you know about yourself. But old Beck and HerculePoirot and Dick Hardcastle, they all had seen quite clearly what I was nowforced to admit to myself was true.

I minded about this girl—minded in a way I had never minded about agirl before.

It wasn’t her beauty—she was pretty, pretty in rather an unusual way,no more. It wasn’t her sex appeal—I had met that often enough—had beengiven the full treatment.

It was just that, almost from the first, I had recognized that she was mygirl.

And I didn’t know the first damned thing about her!