• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

‘Tommy, why did they put Maldon, Surrey, on the telegram?’

‘Because Maldon is in Surrey, idiot.’

‘Idiot yourself–I don’t mean that. If you get a telegram from–Hastings, say, or Torquay, they don’t put the county after it. But from Richmond, they do put Richmond, Surrey. That’s because there are two Richmonds.’

Tommy, who was driving, slowed up.

‘Tuppence,’ he said affectionately, ‘your idea is not so dusty. Let us make inquiries at yonder post office.’

They drew up before a small building in the middle of a village street. A very few minutes sufficed to elicit the information that there were two Maldons. Maldon, Surrey, and Maldon, Sussex, the latter, a tiny hamlet but possessed of a telegraph office.

‘That’s it,’ said Tuppence excitedly. ‘Stavansson knew Maldon was in Surrey, so he hardly looked at the word beginning with S after Maldon.’

‘Tomorrow,’ said Tommy, ‘we’ll have a look at Maldon, Sussex.’

Maldon, Sussex, was a very different proposition to its Surrey namesake. It was four miles from a railway station, possessed two public houses, two small shops, a post and telegraph office combined with a sweet and picture postcard business, and about seven small cottages. Tuppence took on the shops whilst Tommy betook himself to the Cock and Sparrow. They met half an hour later.

‘Well?’ said Tuppence.

‘Quite good beer,’ said Tommy, ‘but no information.’

‘You’d better try the King’s Head,’ said Tuppence. ‘I’m going back to the post office. There’s a sour old woman there, but I heard them yell to her that dinner was ready.’

She returned to the place and began examining postcards. A fresh-faced girl, still munching, came out of the back room.

‘I’d like these, please,’ said Tuppence. ‘And do you mind waiting whilst I just look over these comic ones?’

She sorted through a packet, talking as she did so.

‘I’m ever so disappointed you couldn’t tell me my sister’s address. She’s staying near here and I’ve lost her letter. Leigh Gordon, her name is.’

The girl shook her head.

‘I don’t remember it. And we don’t get many letters through here either–so I probably should if I’d seen it on a letter. Apart from the Grange, there isn’t many big houses round about.’

‘What is the Grange?’ asked Tuppence. ‘Who does it belong to?’

‘Dr Horriston has it. It’s turned into a nursing home now. Nerve cases mostly, I believe. Ladies that come down for rest cures, and all that sort of thing. Well, it’s quiet enough down here, heaven knows.’ She giggled.

Tuppence hastily selected a few cards and paid for them.

‘That’s Doctor Horriston’s car coming along now,’ exclaimed the girl.

Tuppence hurried to the shop door. A small two-seater was passing. At the wheel was a tall dark man with a neat black beard and a powerful unpleasant face. The car went straight on down the street. Tuppence saw Tommy crossing the road towards her.

‘Tommy, I believe I’ve got it. Doctor Horriston’s nursing home.’

‘I heard about it at the King’s Head, and I thought there might be something in it. But if she’s had a nervous breakdown or anything of that sort, her aunt and her friends would know about it surely.’

‘Ye-es. I didn’t mean that. Tommy, did you see that man in the two-seater?’

‘Unpleasant-looking brute, yes.’

‘That was Doctor Horriston.’

Tommy whistled.

‘Shifty looking beggar. What do you say about it, Tuppence? Shall we go and have a look at the Grange?’

They found the place at last, a big rambling house, surrounded by deserted grounds, with a swift mill stream running behind the house.

‘Dismal sort of abode,’ said Tommy. ‘It gives me the creeps, Tuppence. You know, I’ve a feeling this is going to turn out a far more serious matter than we thought at first.’

‘Oh, don’t. If only we are in time. That woman’s in some awful danger; I feel it in my bones.’

‘Don’t let your imagination run away with you.’

‘I can’t help it. I mistrust that man. What shall we do? I think it would be a good plan if I went and rang the bell alone first and asked boldly for Mrs Leigh Gordon just to see what answer I get. Because, after all, it may be perfectly fair