Judy, Doctor Sheldon’s maid, poked her head round the door of the drawing-room. Katherine sat there alone, reading the evening paper. Judy said in a stage whisper: “Sergeant Broderick to see you, miss.”
Katherine looked up. It was Judy’s night off and it was obvious that, so far as outward appearances were concerned, she was leaving nothing to chance. She said: “Ask him to come in, will you, Judy?”
Broderick’s entrance was characteristically breezy. He eyed Judy appreciatively before addressing Katherine. “Good evening, Miss Walters,” he said.
Katherine said: “Good evening, Sergeant.” Judy still hovered at the doorway. “It’s your night off, isn’t it, Judy?”
“Yes, miss,” said Judy. Fred, the current boy friend, was of punctual habits and if she didn’t get a move on she’d be late.
“Got your key?” inquired Katherine.
“Oh, yes, miss,” said Judy, patting her handbag. Her eyes lingered on Broderick for a moment and in a moment of guilty disloyalty she compared him favourably with Fred. She suddenly realized that she was three minutes late already. “Good night, miss,” she said hastily and left the room.
“Won’t you sit down, Sergeant?” invited Katherine.
“Thank you, miss,” said Broderick. He sat down on the edge of an armchair.
“Wouldn’t you like to take your coat off?” asked Katherine.
“I won’t keep you very long, Miss Walters,” said Broderick. “Inspector Ford asked me to call round. He said you telephoned him this afternoon.”
“That’s right,” said Katherine, “I did.” She looked inquiringly at Broderick. “Isn’t the inspector coming?”
“I’m afraid he couldn’t manage it,” explained Broderick. “That’s why I’m here.”
Katherine said: “I see.…”
“His son’s been taken ill.”
“I’m sorry,” said Katherine, “I do hope it isn’t serious.”
“I doubt it,” said Broderick. “Er—what exactly is it that we can do for you, Miss Walters?”
A tiny frown puckered Katherine’s forehead. She said hesitantly: “I really think I ought to speak to Inspector Ford about this, Sergeant—it is rather important.”
Broderick indicated the telephone. “I can send for him if you like, miss.…”
Katherine hesitated and bit her lower Up. “Well——”
“Perhaps if you gave me some idea of what it’s all about …” suggested Broderick.
Katherine glanced quickly towards the door leading into the hall. She said: “It’s about my uncle.”
Broderick was obviously puzzled. “You mean Doctor Sheldon?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what about Doctor Sheldon?”
Katherine said hesitantly: “I’ve found out something about him. It’s—something that the inspector—the police—ought to know about.”
Broderick said: “Go on, Miss Walters.” His voice was concerned.
“I don’t quite know how to tell you this,” went on Katherine, “but two days before Billie Reynolds disappeared my uncle——” Katherine stopped talking as they both heard the front door open and close. She looked quickly towards the hall and then at Broderick. Broderick leaned forward in his chair.…
Doctor Sheldon’s entry took them both by surprise. He was wearing his hat and overcoat and carrying his medical bag in his right hand. Clutched in his left hand was a small document case. He looked worried and out of breath and had clearly been running.
Katherine said: “Uncle … what’s happened?”
Sheldon did not immediately answer, but crossed the room to the telephone.
“What’s the matter, Doctor?” asked Broderick.
Sheldon was dialling a number. Over his shoulder he said: “There’s been a car accident at Medlow Bridge—a fearful mess. Both drivers are very badly hurt.” He tapped the receiver impatiently. “Katherine, there’s a hypodermic in my cabinet. Fetch it for me, will you?”
As Katherine ran from the room, Broderick crossed over to Sheldon. “What happened exactly?” he asked.
“God knows,” said Sheldon, “I’ve never seen a crash like it. A car hit one of those gravel lorries from Henley quarry.” He broke off to tap the receiver again. “What the hell’s the matter with this thing?”
“Do you know who was in the car?” asked Broderick.
“A chap called Berson or some such name,” said Sheldon, “he’s in a pretty bad way.”
Broderick said quickly: “Was it Merson? Ralph Merson?”
“That’s it,” said Sheldon. “This blasted telephone——”
Katherine hurried in with a box in her hand. “I think this is it,” she said.
Sheldon nodded. “Good girl,” he said. He handed the telephone to Broderick and stuffed the hypodermic box into his bag. He said to Broderick: “Get St. Peter’s Hospital—it’s Medlow 22—extension 4. Tell ’ em what’s happened and say it’s very urgent.”
Broderick nodded and started tapping the receiver. He said loudly and impatiently: “Operator! God damn the thing … operator!”
Sheldon hastily picked up his medical bag and thrust the document case into Katherine’s hand. He said: “This must have been thrown out of the car somehow. It belongs to the driver. Take care of it until I get back.” He hurried out of the room.
Broderick eventually abandoned his efforts to get a reply on the telephone. He replaced the receiver and turned to Katherine. “There’s something the matter with this phone—it must be out of order.”
“It was perfectly all right this afternoon,” said Katherine. “Are you sure there’s no reply?”
Broderick tapped the receiver again. He said: “Dead as a doornail. It’s out of order, all right. I think I’d better go and find a box. If anything—” He was walking towards the door as he spoke and suddenly stopped dead. He stared at Katherine with narrowing eyes.
Katherine was opening the document case that Sheldon had given to her. She took out a photograph and several envelopes. She opened one of the envelopes and extracted a letter.
Broderick said softly: “Where did you get that letter from?”
Katherine looked up. She said: “It was in this case.” She looked at the envelope again and then at Broderick. “It’s addressed to you and it’s from Billie Reynolds. It says: ‘Dear Robert,’—that’s you isn’t it?—‘I’m staying in London but I must see you——’ ”
“Give me that letter!” said Broderick. He came across the room with a kind of sliding shuffle; his fists were half clenched. Katherine hardly recognized the self-assured police officer that she had been speaking to a few minutes earlier. Broderick’s mouth was closed in a thin, hard line. His features seemed, in some extraordinary way, to have changed slightly. Instinctively Katherine backed away from him. Then she stopped and faced him. She said: “There’s a photograph of you here—with Billie Reynolds.”
Broderick said: “I know. Those things were taken from my house last night. They belong to me.” He held out his hand. “Give them to me, Miss Walters, please.”
Katherine backed away so that there was a chair between Broderick and herself. “Why should Miss Reynolds want to meet you?” she asked in a voice that she scarcely recognized as her own. “Was she a friend of yours?”
Broderick came a little nearer. “That’s none of your business,” he said. “The letters and the photograph, please.”
Katherine glanced at some of the other envelopes. Her heart beat faster as she saw some of the addresses. She said, trying to keep a growing tremor out of her voice: “You appear to have quite a few friends on the Continent, Mr. Broderick. Rumania— Czechoslovakia—Poland——”
Broderick suddenly sprang forward and viciously kicked over the chair that stood between them. “Give—me—those—letters!” He stood, in the middle of the room, his fingers crooked.
Katherine said: “These are for Inspector Ford and no one else.”
Broderick moved towards her. Trying to anticipate his next move, Katherine felt like a mouse that finds itself confronted with a large and predatory tom-cat.
Broderick’s voice took on a soft and indescribably menacing timbre. He said: “Miss Walters, I’m warning you. If you don’t do what I tell you I’ll——”
Katherine said: “You’ll what, Mr. Broderick?”
Broderick did not answer but moved even closer.
Katherine said steadily: “You killed Billie Reynolds, didn’t you?”
Broderick said: “I want those letters.”
“You killed Billie Reynolds, didn’t you?” repeated Katherine tensely.
Broderick lost the last remnant of his self-control. “Yes, I did!” he blazed. “I killed the little bitch! She started asking questions—all sorts of questions. She bloody well asked for it.”
Katherine stared at Broderick with dilated eyes. He had taken off the blue scarf that he had been wearing. He advanced towards her slowly and inexorably, twining the scarf in his fingers.
“Now, Miss Walters,” he said. His voice was soft and persuasive again, “Please don’t be stupid about this. No one’s seen those letters or the photograph, except you and Merson. Surely, the intelligent thing would be to——”
He was still coming towards her, with one hand outstretched for the letters. Katherine was gripping the table with both hands, as if to control her fear. When he was almost in reach of her, she suddenly made a supreme effort and lifted the heavy table until it tilted on two legs, then crashed towards him so that he had to leap quickly to avoid it. With a couple of rapid strides she was at the door that led into the hall and had flicked off the light switch:
Realizing that it was only a matter of seconds before he found the switch, Katherine moved swiftly towards the window and hid behind the heavy curtains. She could hear him blundering into the furniture and cursing in a voice that sounded even more frightening in the dark. There was a click and the lights went on.
Broderick stood by the door looking round the room. He knew she must still be there, for he would have heard a door open if she had escaped that way. He noticed a key on the inside of the door leading to the hall, and carefully turned it. Then he crossed towards the consulting room and stood for a moment undecided. He had just made sure that Katherine was not hiding behind the settee when a movement of the curtains caught his eye. He stood quite still for a couple of seconds, then reached out and tore savagely at the curtains.
The man standing there with arms akimbo was so motionless that he might have been an image.
“Henderson!” gasped Broderick. “What the devil are you doing here?”
Henderson stared at him for a few moments without replying, then let his arms fall to his sides. Broderick recoiled a pace.
“As you seem to be under some misapprehension, Sergeant, I thought I might explain one or two things.…”
“Such as?”
“In the first place, you seem to have the idea that the photograph and those letters have only been seen by Ralph Merson and Miss Walters. They’ve been seen by quite a number of people as a matter of fact, though Merson doesn’t happen to be one of them.”
“Don’t be a damn fool!” said Broderick, who appeared to have recovered some of his nerve. “Merson took them from my room last night.”
Henderson shook his head.
“I can understand your getting that impression, but you’re wrong, Sergeant. Right off the beam. You broke into Merson’s place to get the letters back, but you didn’t find them because they were never there. It wasn’t Merson who stole them.”
“I tell you it was!” retorted Broderick angrily. “I found a handkerchief with his initials on it.”
“Exactly,” said Henderson inscrutably. “You found a handkerchief, just as we expected.”
Broderick caught his breath.
“You mean that handkerchief was planted? By God! What is this? A trap of some sort?”
He retreated to the centre of the room and backed against the overturned table.
“That story about Merson . . the accident… a fake?”
“Could be,” said Henderson.
He saw Broderick flash a swift glance at the consulting room door, and guessed that he was assessing his chances of escape. Before he could make a move, however, the door opened and Inspector Ford came in. Ford looked worried. Disloyalty in a police officer seemed to him one of the cardinal sins.
“This looks like the end of the line, Broderick,” he said quietly.
Broderick did not reply, but his left hand which had been tucked inside his coat suddenly moved to his mouth and they saw he had a white capsule between his first finger and thumb. Henderson sprang forward to grab Broderick’s arm, but he was too late. Broderick staggered back on to the settee.
“Get Dr. Sheldon quickly,” said Henderson.
Ford ran to the french windows and fumbled with the catch. The moment he was outside, Broderick suddenly sprang to life again, thrust Henderson aside and rushed for the consulting room door. When Henderson grabbed at him, Broderick brought his knee up sharply and the schoolmaster fell back, temporarily winded.
When he looked up he saw Broderick slam the consulting room door behind him, and there was a sound of the key turning in the lock. With a considerable effort he moved over and tried the door, then as he turned he saw Ford appear for a moment at the french windows, then vanish again. A few seconds later, there was a crash of glass inside the consulting room, then the sound of a scuffle. After that, a silence that seemed to last for minutes.
At length, Ford returned through the french windows.
“It’s all right,” he said, smiling, “the chaps outside got him as he came through the window.” He looked across at Henderson, who was still trying to regain his breath.
“You all right?”
Henderson nodded and went over to the door leading to the hall, which he unlocked. As soon as she came in with Doctor Sheldon, Katherine noticed at once that he was suffering some pain, and was anxious to know what had happened. He assured her that he would be all right in a minute or two.
As Ford helped them to set the room to rights he said: “Thank you for your co-operation, Doctor. You, too, Miss Walters. This is just about the trickiest job I’ve come across.”
“Don’t ever ask me to do anything like that again!” declared Katherine fervently.
“Don’t worry, miss, we won’t.” He hesitated, and turned to Doctor Sheldon. “I think you’d better take a look at the consulting room, sir. He’s made rather a mess of the window—of course, we’ll stand the cost of all that.”
“Cheap at the price,” grinned Henderson, as Sheldon departed to survey the damage. Katherine, who was still regarding Henderson with some concern, went and fetched him a drink. Ford refused one and said he would have to get back to the police station.
“I’d like you both to come down and sign a statement,” he said. “Can I give you a lift now?”
Henderson looked at Katherine for a moment, then said: “I think we’d rather walk if you don’t mind, Inspector. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Suits me,” nodded Ford. “In fact, it gives me a chance to clear up one or two things.”
After the Inspector had gone, Henderson said: “I really think you should have a drink after that ordeal. You must be feeling pretty shaky.”
“I’m tougher than you think,” said Katherine.
“Were you frightened?” he asked, sipping his whisky.
“To be honest, I was terrified. Especially when he tore down the curtain and saw you standing there. I thought he would kill you.”
“At that particular moment, I could feel nothing but relief that you were safely outside the room.”
They looked at each other and smiled.
He finished his whisky and Katherine went out to tell her uncle that they were going to the police station.
Ten minutes later, they paused for a few moments on Medlow’s ancient bridge to look at the lights reflected in the water.
“There’s the houseboat where I first saw you that day …” she said presently, pointing to the shadowy out-fine of the boat that was in darkness. His hand closed over hers on the worn stone parapet.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“Funnily enough … about Rocello’s family motto.”
‘Family motto?”
“Yes, it’s a very practical one. Suaviter in modo …”
Gentle in the manner,” she said quietly, her hand tightening beneath his.
“But vigorous in the deed,” concluded Henderson, and drew her face gently but firmly towards his own.