lend you mine, but I’m going back to Town tomorrow.’
‘That’s rather sudden, isn’t it?’ said Wyatt, still trying to suppress any note of curiosity in his voice.
‘Yes, there’s something rather important come up, and I have to attend to it right away. If you want to get hold of me in Town, my number’s in the book.’
Just as Linder was about to ring off, Wyatt said suddenly:
‘I almost forgot to tell you, Mr Linder … I saw a friend of yours tonight. She sends her kind regards.’
‘Oh? Who was it?’
‘Doctor Fraser,’ replied Wyatt without a moment’s hesitation, wishing he were face to face with Linder so as to be able to note his true reaction.
‘Oh … Doctor Fraser,’ said the voice on the wire, in a tone which defied analysis. ‘How is she?’
‘She’s fine.’
‘Is she staying down here?’ Wyatt imagined he detected a note of caution in the inquiry.
‘Just for the night. Apparently, some special business brought her down here.’
‘I see. Well, goodbye, Mr Wyatt. I expect we shall meet in Town.’
‘I expect so, Mr Linder. Goodbye.’
Wyatt thoughtfully replaced the receiver and slowly made his way back to the bar, where he drank a final whisky by way of a nightcap.
Next morning he was very glad to find Sally showing no after-effects of the accident. He was also relieved to find that his leg was none the worse. It was a fine sunny morning, and they sat by the window where they had a glimpse of the sea between two ancient cottages. Sally ate an enormous breakfast, and seemed quite anxious to discuss the events of the previous day. Wyatt told her that he had been making some inquiries about Barbara Willis, but that no one had seen her if she had stayed in Shorecombe prior to the tragedy. He had called at the local police station to report the accident, and had made further inquiries there about the elusive Miss Willis, but without success.
‘And what did you make of Doctor Fraser when you had me safely out of the way?’ smiled Sally.
‘She seemed quite an affable sort of person,’ said Wyatt in a non-committal tone. ‘What did you make of her?’
‘I rather liked her. Did she have much to say?’
‘Yes, quite a lot.’
He gave her a brief outline of Doctor Fraser’s experience.
‘Do you believe all that?’ asked Sally when he had finished.
‘Do you?’ he countered. ‘You’re the woman; you’re supposed to work by intuition.’
She shook her head thoughtfully.
‘I don’t know,’ she had to confess. ‘She doesn’t look the type who would make up an involved story like that.’
‘On the other hand,’ he reminded her, ‘we have to remember that she is a doctor; a woman with a brain well above the average. I shouldn’t think concocting a story like that would be beyond her powers.’
‘Is there no way of checking it?’
‘Not till we get back to Town. I think it can wait till then.’
Sally left the table and stood by the window, watching a cart move slowly along the narrow street outside.
‘What are we going to do today?’ she inquired eagerly.
Wyatt slowly tipped all the remaining sugar into his last cup of coffee, then said:
‘I thought we’d go out and see Tyson this morning, then probably catch the 3.45 back to London.’
‘Must we go to London?’ asked Sally rather wistfully.
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Wyatt. ‘I’ve got to see Sir James as soon as possible.’ He lit a cigarette and sipped his coffee. When the door opened to admit a handsome young man, they both had the idea that he was another guest at the inn. He was well dressed; his hair was smoothly plastered and he had a neat toothbrush moustache which distracted attention from his slightly receding chin.
‘I must apologize for interrupting you,’ he began, ‘but if you could spare me a few minutes …’
Sally turned and eyed the intruder curiously, while Wyatt rose.
‘It’s Mr Maurice Knight, isn’t it?’ he inquired.
‘Why yes, how did you—’
‘Your picture’s been in the papers rather a lot,’ Wyatt reminded him.
‘Oh, yes, I was forgetting that wretched business for the moment – at least, that aspect of it.’
He smiled at Sally.
‘I am sorry to barge in like this, Mrs Wyatt, but I’m on my way back to Town, and I did rather want to see Mr Wyatt for a few minutes, if he can spare the time.’
‘I’ll ring for some fresh coffee,’ said Sally. ‘I’m sure we could drink another cup – if you’ll join us.’
Wyatt pulled up a chair for their guest, and when the landlord had taken their order, he looked a trifle apprehensive.
‘I suppose it’s all right to talk here,’ he began in a low voice.
‘As good as anywhere, I should imagine,’ replied Wyatt. ‘I don’t think we can possibly be overheard.’
Maurice Knight sat on the edge of his chair and leaned forward; he spoke in a confidential tone.
‘Mr Wyatt, you know why I came to Shorecombe?’
‘I could probably guess,’ said Wyatt.
‘I wanted to find out what had brought my fiancée, Barbara Willis, down here.’ He suddenly became tense. ‘I wanted to find out the swine who deliberately, brutally, and sadistically strangled her.’
Sally gave a little shudder.
‘I’m sorry – please forgive me, Mrs Wyatt … you understand I’ve been very upset …’
‘Did you satisfy your curiosity, Mr Knight?’ inquired Wyatt evenly.
Knight shook his head somewhat wistfully.
‘Even as an amateur detective I’m afraid I’m a complete washout,’ he had to admit. ‘But I did stumble across one rather interesting point, Mr Wyatt. That’s why I wanted to see you.’
At that moment Fred Johnson returned with the coffee. After he had left Wyatt said:
‘Well, Mr Knight? What was it you discovered?’
Knight
