Read Online Death and the Maiden by Gladys Mitchell - Free Book Online

the poor child ’ad been murdered and Ted ’ad done it, the way they’ve kept all on. It’s been really cruel. And, of course—’ The pause was awkward. Mrs Bradley filled it.
    â€˜And, of course, the police want such full explanations,’ she said, ‘that our lives become scarcely our own.’
    The woman agreed, and seemed about to enlarge on the point, but at this moment Mr Potter, the husband, was heard. He scraped his feet beside the front door of the house, and then walked into the parlour, which opened directly off the street.
    He looked a little shy, and not particularly gratified, when he saw that there was company in the house. He said, ‘Servant, ladies,’ in what Miss Carmody referred to afterwards as a delightfully old-fashioned way, went through to the kitchen, and dumped his bag of tools on the floor. He looked a good deal younger than the woman, and was well-set-up and good-looking.
    â€˜You got to go back, Ted,’ said his wife, who had followedhim out. There was a lengthy and muttered colloquy, and then the wife added loudly, ‘It’s some sociable ladies come to see you about the Griers. There ain’t nothing for you to be afraid of. Not as you deserve I should say it, but there it is.’
    Mr Potter observed that he had better clean himself, then, and proceeded, from the sounds, to sluice himself vigorously under the kitchen tap. He reappeared at the end of ten minutes with damp front hair and wearing, to Miss Carmody’s gratification, a rather tight collar.
    â€˜A mark of real respect,’ she muttered to Mrs Bradley.
    â€˜Not newspapers, I suppose?’ he said nervously as he sat down and put his large hands on his knees. ‘You wouldn’t come from the newspapers, I suppose?’
    â€˜I don’t know but what it will come to that,’ said Mrs Bradley, before Miss Carmody could speak. ‘I’m worried about the death of that boy, Mr Potter. Why was it such a long time before he was found?’
    â€˜Ah!’ said Mr Potter, lifting one hand and bringing it back into place with a fearful whack. ‘What did I tell you, Lizzie? “Funny I’d have looked,” I said, “if that boy ’ad ’appened to be murdered,” I said. Didn’t I say that, Lizzie? You’re my witness to that, my gal. I said it the minute I come in when I’d fetched the police. Now didn’t I?’ He looked at his wife with a kind of hang-dog defiance not very pretty to see.
    â€˜Yes, you did say it, Ted, but I dunno as you ought to repeat it in front of strangers,’ said Mrs Potter, glancing at the strangers to see the effect of his words. Relations between the Potters were not too good, Mrs Bradley noticed. She wondered what the woman suspected, or, possibly, knew.
    â€˜What made you think of murder, Mr Potter?’ asked Miss Carmody keenly, leaning forward, her hands on her knees.
    â€˜Why, nothing,’ he replied, a trifle confused, ‘except – well, you know ’ow it is, mum. It struck me comical, like, as a biggish lad like Bob should a-got hisself drownded in about six inches of water, as you might say, for ’e laid very near the edge, half into some plants. And anotherthing—’ He lowered his voice and gave a furtive glance at his wife. The two of them were certainly on the defensive with one another, almost as though they had quarrelled but did not want strangers to know it.
    â€˜You be careful, Ted!’ said the woman. He shrugged his wide shoulders, but seemed disposed to obey her.
    â€˜Yes, Mr Potter?’ said Mrs Bradley, with hypnotic effect. Miss Carmody sat straighter in her chair.
    â€˜Oh nothing, excepting a soft straw hat laid underneath him. I didn’t tell the police. They’d ’a thought I was making it up. You see, mum, it wasn’t there when I went to work after taking of ’im home and making Ma Grier call the