Death and the Maiden

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Authors: Gladys Mitchell
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doctor.’
    â€˜Ma Grier!’ said Mrs Potter scornfully. ‘That’s a new name for ’er, ain’t it? And you shouldn’t of mentioned that ’at! Very likely your fancy, I reckon. And as for ’im not being drownded, you know very well that ’is poor little head was right under! You said so yourself to the coroner! Don’t you remember? Bob was drownded. His head was right under. That’s what you said, and you can’t go back on it now.’
    â€˜Well, right enough, so it was right under,’ Mr Potter admitted hastily. ‘But if these ’ere ladies ’ave seen the place, I’ll back they know what I’m a-gettin’ at. Not deep enough to drown in, not for a lad of his sense.’
    â€˜The same thought struck me ,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘But the boy might have fallen and stunned himself, as the doctor suggested at the inquest, and have tumbled into the water. He had a bad bruise on his head.’
    â€˜But the bump was on top of ’is head, and he was laying face downward in the water,’ said Mr Potter. ‘That’s why the coroner would give an open verdict. Quite right, too, in my opinion. There’s been too many murders since the war.’
    After a slight pause, Mrs Bradley again asked whether the parents had not missed the boy on the Wednesday evening, and repeated her observation that a very long time had passed before he was found. Had not the parents looked for him, she enquired.
    â€˜Foster-parents. He wasn’t theirs,’ said Mrs Potter. ‘Butmiss the boy? Not them! Down at the Bull and Bushell , same as usual. Wednesdays and Saturdays was their nights, and that’s where they was, chance what! What do you say, Ted? You ought to know where old man Grier spends his time!’
    Mr Potter confirmed this view, and said he had seen them in there. He had popped in for half a pint, he added (with an appealing glance at his wife), and there they both were.
    â€˜Was that generally known?’ asked Mrs Bradley. ‘That they frequented this public house on Wednesdays and Saturdays?’
    â€˜Known all along ’ere, at any rate.’
    â€˜And in the city?’
    â€˜Us takes no truck in the city. Nought but ecclesiastical that don’t be.’
    â€˜I see.’
    â€˜Till late years, been a separate village, us ’ave. Worked in the city, maybe, some of us ’ave, but nothing to do with their affairs. Don’t know nothing about ’em, anyhow. The Dean, he see to Winchester. Us keep ourselves to ourselves.’
    â€˜Yes, I see. Then – don’t the children go and play along the river past Winchester? Do they never go into the water-meadows towards St Cross?’ demanded Miss Carmody, the nymph and Mr Tidson foremost in her thoughts.
    â€˜Why should ’em?’ asked Mr Potter in surprise. ‘Got our own river, ’aven’t us, ’ere in the village? Why should ’em go? If they think to go further, they goes over to the reck, like, or to that there bit of a brook by King Alfred’s gate.’
    â€˜Yes, I see,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘What kind of boy was Bobby Grier? Did the other boys like him?’
    â€˜That I couldn’t tell you, mum. Little enough I knowed of him. My little un, now, her could tell you. But he wasn’t Mrs Grier’s own, as I daresay you ’eard us say a minute ago.’
    Mrs Bradley nodded. The little girl Potter was not visible when the two elderly ladies left the house, and Mrs Bradley was about to suggest that they should return to the Domus when Miss Carmody said surprisingly and suddenly:
    â€˜I think we ought to tax that Grier woman with Edris.’
    â€˜Tax her?’ Mrs Bradley enquired.
    â€˜Certainly. Edris must be the man the police will want for the murder. There! It is out! I’ve said it!’
    â€˜But why should you say it?’ Mrs Bradley enquired. ‘What makes you

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