Red Money by Fergus Hume (the little red hen ebook .txt) 📖
- Author: Fergus Hume
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Is That Chaldea Found The Letter In Pine's Tent The Day After His
Murder, And Before Inspector Darby Had Time To Search. The Envelope Had
Been Destroyed, So We Don't Know If The Letter Was Posted Or Delivered
By Hand."
"If I Had Written Such A Letter To Noel," Said Agnes Quietly, "It
Certainly Would Have Been Delivered By Hand."
"In Which Case Pine Might Have Intercepted The Messenger," Put In Miss
Greeby. "It Couldn't Have Been Sent By Post, Or Pine Would Not Have Got
Hold Of It, Unless He Bribed Mrs. Tribb Into Giving It Up."
"Mrs. Tribb Is Not Open To Bribery, Clara. And As To The Letter, I Never
Wrote It, Nor Did Noel Ever Receive It."
"It Was Written From The Manor, Anyhow," Said Miss Greeby Bluntly. "Look
At The Crest And The Heading. Someone In The House Wrote It, If You
Didn't."
"I'm Not So Sure Of That. The Paper Might Have Been Stolen."
"Well." Miss Greeby Again Bit Her Umbrella Handle Reflectively. "There's
Something In That, Agnes. Chaldea Told Mrs. Belgrove's Fortune In The
Park, And Afterwards She Came To The Drawing-Room To Tell It Again. I
Wonder If She Stole The Paper While She Was In The House."
"Even If She Did, An Uneducated Gypsy Could Not Have Forged The Letter."
"She Might Have Got Somebody To Do So," Suggested Miss Greeby, Nodding.
"Then The Somebody Must Be Well Acquainted With My Handwriting,"
Retorted Lady Agnes, And Began To Study The Few Lines Closely.
She Might Have Written It Herself, So Much Did It Resemble Her Style Of
Writing. The Terse Communication Stated That The Writer, Who Signed
Herself "Agnes Pine," Would Meet "Her Dearest Noel" Outside The Blue
Door, Shortly After Midnight, And Hoped That He Would Have The Motor At
The Park Gates To Take Them To London En Route To Paris. "Hubert Is Sure
To Get A Divorce," Ended The Letter, "And Then We Can Marry At Once And
Be Happy Ever More."
It Was Certainly A Silly Letter, And Agnes Laughed Scornfully.
"I Don't Express Myself In That Way," She Said Contemptuously, And
Still Eyeing The Writing Wonderingly. "And As I Respected My Husband And
Respect Myself, I Should Never Have Thought Of Eloping With My Cousin,
Especially From Garvington's House, When I Had Much Better And Safer
Chances Of Eloping In Town. Had Noel Received This, He Would Never Have
Believed That I Wrote It, As I Assuredly Did Not. And A 'Motor At The
Park Gates,'" She Read. "Why Not At The Postern Gate, Which Leads To The
Blue Door? That Would Have Been Safer And More Reasonable. Pah! I Never
Heard Such Rubbish," And She Folded Up The Letter To Slip It Into Her
Pocket.
Chapter 15 (Guesswork) Pg 142Miss Greeby Looked Rather Aghast. "Oh, You Must Give It Back To Me," She
Said Hurriedly. "I Have To Look Into The Case, You Know."
"I Shall Not Give It Back To You," Said Agnes In A Determined Manner.
"It Is In My Possession And Shall Remain There. I Wish To Show It To
Noel."
"And What Am I To Say To Silver?"
"Whatever You Like. You Can Manage Him, You Know."
"He'll Make Trouble."
"Now That He Has Lost This Weapon"--Agnes Touched Her Pocket--"He
Can't."
"Well"--Miss Greeby Shrugged Her Big Shoulders And Stood Up--"Just As
You Please. But It Would Be Best To Leave The Letter And The Case In My
Hands."
"I Think Not," Rejoined Agnes Decisively. "Noel Is Now Quite Well Again,
And I Prefer Him To Take Charge Of The Matter Himself."
"Is That All The Thanks I Get For My Trouble?"
"My Dear Clara," Said The Other Cordially, "I Am Ever So Much Obliged To
You For Robbing Mr. Silver Of This Letter. But I Don't Wish To Put You
To Any More Trouble."
"Just As You Please," Said Miss Greeby Again, And Rather Sullenly. "I
Wash My Hands Of The Business, And If Silver Makes Trouble You Have
Only Yourself To Thank. I Advise You Also, Agnes, To See Mother
Cockleshell And Learn What She Has To Say."
"Does She Know Anything?"
"She Gave Me Certain Mysterious Hints That She Did. But She Appears To
Have A Great Opinion Of You, My Dear, So She May Be More Open With You
Than She Was With Me."
"Where Is She To Be Found?"
"I Don't Know. Chaldea Is Queen Of The Tribe, Which Is Still Camped On
The Outskirts Of Abbot's Wood. Mother Cockleshell Has Gone Away On Her
Own. Have You Any Idea Who Wrote The Letter?"
Agnes Took Out The Forged Missive Again And Studied It. "Not In The
Least," She Said, Shaking Her Head.
"Do You Know Of Any One Who Can Imitate Your Handwriting?"
"Not That I Know--Oh," She Stopped Suddenly And Grew As White As The
Widow's Cap She Wore. "Oh," She Said Blankly.
Chapter 15 (Guesswork) Pg 143
"What Is It?" Demanded Miss Greeby, On Fire With Curiosity. "Have You
Thought Of Any One?"
Agnes Shook Her Head Again And Placed The Letter In Her Pocket. "I Can
Think Of No One," She Said In A Low Voice.
Miss Greeby Did Not Entirely Believe This, As The Sudden Hesitation And
The Paleness Hinted At Some Unexpected Thought, Probably Connected With
The Forgery. However, Since She Had Done All She Could, It Was Best, As
She Judged, To Leave Things In The Widow's Hands. "I'm Tired Of The
Whole Business," Said Miss Greeby Carelessly. "It Wouldn't Do For Me To
Be A Detective, As I Have No Staying Power, And Get Sick Of Things.
Still, If You Want Me, You Know Where To Send For Me, And At All Events
I've Drawn Silver's Teeth."
"Yes, Dear; Thank You Very Much," Said Agnes Mechanically, So The
Visitor Took Her Leave, Wondering What Was Rendering Her Hostess So
Absent-Minded. A Very Persistent Thought Told Her That Agnes Had Made A
Discovery In Connection With The Letter, But Since She Would Not Impart
That Thought There Was No More To Be Said.
When Miss Greeby Left The House And Was Striding Down The Street, Agnes
For The Third Time Took The Letter From Her Pocket And Studied Every
Line Of The Writing. It Was Wonderfully Like Her Own, She Thought Again,
And Yet Wondered Both At The Contents And At The Signature. "I Should
Never Have Written In This Way To Noel," She Reflected. "And Certainly
I Should Never Have Signed Myself 'Agnes Pine' To So Intimate A Note.
However, We Shall See," And With This Cryptic Thought She Placed The
Letter In Her Desk.
When Garvington And His Wife Returned They Found Agnes Singularly Quiet
And Pale. The Little Man Did Not Notice This, As He Never Took Any
Interest In Other People's Emotions, But His Wife Asked Questions To
Which She Received No Answers, And Looked At Agnes Uneasily, When She
Saw That She Did Not Eat Any Dinner To Speak Of. Lady Garvington Was
Very Fond Of Her Kind-Hearted Sister-In-Law, And Would Have Been Glad To
Know What Was Troubling Her. But Agnes Kept Her Worries To Herself, And
Insisted That Jane Should Go To The Pantomime, As She Had Arranged With
Some Friends Instead Of Remaining At Home. But When Garvington Moved To
Leave The Drawing-Room, After Drinking His Coffee, His Sister Detained
Him.
"I Want You To Come To The Library To Write A Letter For Me, Freddy,"
She Said In A Tremulous Voice.
"Can't You Write It Yourself?" Said Garvington Selfishly, As He Was In A
Hurry To Get To His Club.
"No, Dear. I Am So Tired," Sighed Agnes, Passing Her Hand Across Her
Brow.
Chapter 15 (Guesswork) Pg 144
"Then You Should Have Kept On Silver As Your Secretary," Grumbled
Garvington. "However, If It Won't Take Long, I Don't Mind Obliging You."
He Followed Her Into The Library, And Took His Seat At The Writing
Table. "Who Is The Letter To?" He Demanded, Taking Up A Pen In A Hurry.
"To Mr. Jarwin. I Want Him To Find Out Where Gentilla Stanley Is. It's
Only A Formal Letter, So Write It And Sign It On My Behalf."
"Like An Infernal Secretary," Sighed Garvington, Taking Paper And
Squaring His Elbows. "What Do You Want With Old Mother Cockleshell?"
"Miss Greeby Was Here To-Day And Told Me That The Woman Knows Something
About Poor Hubert's Death."
Garvington's Pen Halted For A Moment, But He Did Not Look Round. "What
Can She Possibly Know?" He Demanded Irritably.
"That's What I Shall Find Out When Mr. Jarwin Discovers Her," Said
Agnes, Who Was In A Low Chair Near The Fire. "By The Way, Freddy, I Am
Sorry You Let The Abbot's Wood Cottage To Mr. Silver."
"Why Shouldn't I?" Growled Garvington, Writing Industriously. "Noel
Didn't Pay Me A Pound A Week, And Silver Does."
"You Might Have A More Respectable Tenant," Said Agnes Scathingly.
"Who Says Silver Isn't Respectable?" He Asked, Looking Round.
"I Do, And I Have Every Reason To Say So."
"Oh, Nonsense!" Garvington Began To Write Again. "Silver Was Pine's
Secretary, And Now He's Miss Greeby's. They Wouldn't Have Engaged Him
Unless He Was Respectable, Although He Did Start Life As A Pauper
Toymaker. I Suppose That Is What You Mean, Agnes. I'm Surprised At Your
Narrowness."
"Ah, We Have Not All Your Tolerance, Freddy. Have You Finished That
Letter?"
"There You Are." Garvington Handed It Over. "You Don't Want Me To
Address The Envelope?"
"Yes, I Do," Agnes Ran Her Eyes Over The Missive; "And You Can Add A
Postscript To This, Telling Mr. Jarwin He Can Take My Motor To Look For
Gentilla Stanley If He Chooses."
Garvington Did As He Was Asked Reluctantly. "Though I Don't See Why
Jarwin Can't Supply His Own Motors," He Grumbled, "And Ten To One He'll
Only Put An Advertisement In The Newspapers."
"As If Mother Cockleshell Ever Saw A Newspaper," Retorted His Sister.
"Oh, Thank You, Freddy, You Are Good," She Went On When He Handed Her
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