Footsteps in the Dark Read online

  ‘In the top right-hand drawer of my dressing-table so far as I know,’ Charles answered. ‘That, my boy, was a blind.’

  ‘Was it indeed? Why?’

  ‘Did you see that fellow who was waiting in the charge room?’

  ‘No – that is, yes, I believe I did notice someone, now you come to mention it. I can’t say I paid much attention to him, though. What about him?’

  ‘Michael Strange.’

  ‘No!’ Peter said. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive. He turned his head as I came out of the inspector’s room. That inspector-fellow is going to ask what his business is. With all due deference to Inspector Tomlinson I could have told him the answer. He’ll dish up some cock-and-bull story of having lost something, but if he didn’t follow us to try and find out just what we were going to tell the police, I’m a Dutchman.’ He hooted violently at an Austin Seven which was wavering undecidedly in the middle of the road. ‘And I wouldn’t mind betting that he overheard every word we said in that room.’

  ‘It does look like it, but wasn’t there a bobby in the charge room?’

  ‘There was when we came out, but do you suppose a clever fellow couldn’t have got rid of him for quite as long as he wanted?’

  ‘Might, of course. But how the devil did Strange know we were coming here to-day?’

  ‘Well, we’ve talked about it pretty freely, haven’t we?’

  ‘In our own house, Chas!’

  ‘Also while we were getting the car out of the ditch. You said: “If they don’t buck up with that horse we shan’t have time to get to Manfield and back before lunch.”’

  ‘I didn’t say anything about the police-station, did I?’

  ‘I don’t remember. But whatever you said it looks as though you were overheard, and Mr Michael Strange thought it worth his while to follow us.’

  Peter sat pondering it for a while. ‘Of course he might have been concealed in the wood, but, dash it! he must be pretty acute if he connected a visit to Manfield with the police! Why, half the countryside goes to shop there! No, it looks to me as though someone told him.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The housemaid! She could have heard us talking at breakfast.’

  ‘My dear Peter, she’s no crook’s accomplice!’

  ‘She’s a dam’ silly girl though, and if Strange wanted to pump her he could.’

  They had emerged from the outskirts of the town into the open country, and Charles put his foot on the accelerator. ‘Yes, that’s possible, of course. One thing that seems to me quite obvious is that Strange is going to be more than a match for Inspector Tomlinson.’

  Peter waited until the car had swung round a bend in the road before he spoke. Charles’ driving, skilful though it might be, kept his passengers in a constant state of breathlessness. ‘Do you think Tomlinson means to do anything, or does he discount all we say in favour of the ghost theory?’

  ‘The impression I got was that he gave us the benefit of the doubt, but privately considered us a fanciful pair who’d got the wind up. He’ll send a man over to lurk about the place for a couple of days, and that’ll be the end of it.’

  ‘Give him a trial,’ Peter said. ‘I must say he didn’t seem to be overburdened with ideas, but he may have kept them to himself.’

  They reached the Priory to find the others just getting up from lunch. ‘Oh, Charles!’ Celia exclaimed, ‘the tennis-net has arrived, and Bowers and Coggin have been putting up the stop-netting all the morning. And if you’ll come and do the measuring I’ll mark the court out, and we can play after tea.’

  This programme was faithfully carried out, and not even the depressions and the bumps in the court damped Celia’s enthusiasm. ‘It adds to the fun,’ she said, when Charles failed to reach a ball that bounced unaccountably to the right.

  When they came off the court after a couple of hours play they were pleasantly weary, and, as Margaret said, were beginning to get to know the peculiarities of the ground. It was just as Charles had announced his intention of spending a lazy evening that Celia remembered to break a piece of news to them all which put an end to such dreams.

  ‘I forgot to tell you,’ she said guiltily, ‘that I’ve given Bowers leave off, and I said they could have the car. They’re going to the cinema in Manfield, and I said it would be all right if they just put a cold supper on the table – and – and we’d clear it away, and wash up.’

  ‘Did you indeed?’ said Charles instantly. ‘Now isn’t that a pity? Because I’ve just remembered that I shall have to go out directly after supper, so I shan’t be able to…’

  ‘Liar,’ said Celia, without heat.

  ‘Besides,’ Margaret put in, ‘you can’t go and desert us. We’ve promised Aunt Lilian we’ll try out her planchette.’

  Celia’s face clouded. ‘Margaret, if we talk hard about something else, don’t you think she might forget about it?’

  ‘No,’ said Margaret, considering this. ‘It would only be a case of putting off the evil hour. I think we’d better do it once, just to please her, and then when nothing happens she’ll probably get bored with it.’

  ‘But supposing something did happen?’ Celia pointed out.

  ‘Well, it ’ud be rather interesting, I think,’ Margaret said coolly.

  Celia was so far from agreeing with her that she did her best to keep Mrs Bosanquet’s mind off the subject all through supper. But it was to no avail. When the meal had been cleared away, and the family had repaired to the library, Mrs Bosanquet produced her board, and said: ‘Well, my dears, shall we have our sitting?’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk as though we were a collection of fowls,’ Charles complained. ‘Provided I am supplied with a comfortable chair I don’t mind lending what I feel sure will be powerful assistance.’

  Celia looked at him suspiciously. ‘If that means that you’re going to fool about…’

  ‘Hush!’ said her husband reprovingly. ‘For all you know I may be a strong medium. In fact I shouldn’t be surprised if I went into a trance. Time will be as nothing to me. All the secrets of the future will be revealed to me.’

  ‘Yes, dear, quite possibly you are a natural medium,’ Mrs Bosanquet said. ‘But when people come out of trances they don’t remember anything that happened to them while they were in the trance. At least, so I have always understood.’

  ‘In that case,’ said Charles, ‘I charge you all the instant you see me fall into a trance to ask me what’s going to win the 3.20 to-morrow. And see you write down the answer.’

  ‘If you go into a trance,’ said Peter, ‘that isn’t the only thing we’ll ask you. There are lots of things about your past I’ve long wanted to know.’

  Mrs Bosanquet was arranging chairs round a small table. ‘That will do, my dear,’ she said. ‘You know it is no use approaching this in a spirit of levity. Now let us all take our places round the table, and then I’ll turn the light down.’

  Celia was already showing a tendency to cling to Charles’ hand. ‘Not right out, Aunt!’ she implored.

  ‘No, I will leave just a glimmer. I don’t think we need draw the curtains, do you, Margaret? There doesn’t seem to be any moon to-night. And it will make the room so stuffy. Now, are you all ready?’

  ‘Wait a moment!’ Celia begged. ‘Charles, you’ve got to sit by me!’

  ‘Celia, you goose!’ Margaret said softly. ‘You don’t really expect anything to happen do you?’ She took the seat on her sister’s left, and Peter sat down beside her.

  Mrs Bosanquet turned the central lamp out, and lowered the wick of the one that stood on a table by the fireplace, until only a tiny flame showed. Then she groped her way to the empty chair between her nephews and sat down.

  ‘Oh, isn’t it dark and horrible?’ shuddered Celia.

  ‘You’ll get used to it,’ Margaret said soothingly. ‘Already I can just see, vaguely. What do we have to do, Aunt Lilian?’

  Mrs Bosanquet, happy in having induced them to take part in