By the Pricking of My Thumbs - Agatha Christie [58]
‘Quite so–it didn’t worry me. But it has worried my wife. She seems convinced that something has happened to Mrs Lancaster. In fact, during the time I was away from home, she said she was going to investigate further–I don’t know what exactly she meant to do, perhaps see the hotel personally, or the bank, or try the solicitor. Anyway, she was going to try and get a little more information.’
Dr Murray looked at him politely, but with a trace of patient boredom in his manner.
‘What did she think exactly–?’
‘She thinks that Mrs Lancaster is in danger of some kind–even that something may have happened to her.’
The doctor raised his eyebrows.
‘Oh! really, I should hardly think–’
‘This may seem quite idiotic to you,’ said Tommy, ‘but you see, my wife rang up saying she would be back yesterday evening–and–she didn’t arrive.’
‘She said definitely that she was coming back?’
‘Yes. She knew I was coming home, you see, from this conference business. So she rang up to let our man, Albert, know that she’d be back to dinner.’
‘And that seems to you an unlikely thing for her to do?’ said Murray. He was now looking at Tommy with some interest.
‘Yes,’ said Tommy. ‘It’s very unlike Tuppence. If she’d been delayed or changed her plans she would have rung up again or sent a telegram.’
‘And you’re worried about her?’
‘Yes, I am,’ said Tommy.
‘H’m! Have you consulted the police?’
‘No,’ said Tommy. ‘What’d the police think? It’s not as though I had any reason to believe that she is in trouble or danger or anything of that kind. I mean, if she’d had an accident or was in a hospital, anything like that, somebody would communicate with me soon enough, wouldn’t they?’
‘I should say so–yes–if she had some means of identification on her.’
‘She’d have her driving licence on her. Probably letters and various other things.’
Dr Murray frowned.
Tommy went on in a rush:
‘And now you come along–And bring up all this business of Sunny Ridge–People who’ve died when they oughtn’t to have died. Supposing this old bean got on to something–saw something, or suspected something–and began chattering about it–She’d have to be silenced in some way, so she was whisked out of it quickly, and taken off to some place or other where she wouldn’t be traced. I can’t help feeling that the whole thing ties up somehow–’
‘It’s odd–it’s certainly odd–What do you propose to do next?’
‘I’m going to do a bit of searching myself–Try these solicitors first–They may be quite all right, but I’d like to have a look at them, and draw my own conclusions.’
Chapter 12
Tommy Meets an Old Friend
From the opposite side of the road, Tommy surveyed the premises of Messrs. Partingdale, Harris, Lockeridge and Partingdale.
They looked eminently respectable and old-fashioned. The brass plate was well worn but nicely polished. He crossed the street and passed through swing doors to be greeted by the muted note of typewriters at full speed.
He addressed himself to an open mahogany window on his right which bore the legend INQUIRIES–
Inside was a small room where three women were typing and two male clerks were bending over desks copying documents.
There was a faint, musty atmosphere with a decidedly legal flavour.
A woman of thirty-five odd, with a severe air, faded blonde hair, and pince-nez rose from her typewriter and came to the window.
‘Can I help you?’
‘I would like to see Mr Eccles.’
The woman’s air of severity redoubled.
‘Have you an appointment?’
‘I’m afraid not. I’m just passing through London today.’
‘I’m afraid Mr Eccles is rather busy this morning. Perhaps another member of the firm–’
‘It was Mr Eccles I particularly wanted to see. I have already had some correspondence with him.’
‘Oh I see. Perhaps you’ll give me your name.’
Tommy gave his name and address and the blonde woman retired to confer with the telephone on her desk. After a murmured conversation she returned.
‘The clerk will show you into the waiting-room. Mr Eccles will be able to see you in about ten minutes’ time.’
Tommy was