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

connect your Mr Tidson with the death of this boy?’
    â€˜Little enough, in one sense, but a very great deal in another,’ Miss Carmody mysteriously replied; and they walked back to Mrs Grier’s house. The house was quiet now. The curiosity of the villagers was sated, the front door was shut and the family had settled down to tea.
    After Mrs Bradley had knocked twice, the door opened to about one-seventh of its possible semi-circumference, and a suspicious eye peered forth.
    â€˜When did you first miss Bobby?’ enquired Mrs Bradley, deeming that surprise tactics would be the best method of approach.
    â€˜We never,’ said the owner of the eye. ‘And we don’t want no more bothering. We got the funeral to see to.’ The door slammed. Mrs Bradley took Miss Carmody by the hand and hurried her up the street, and they came back to Winchester by way of Water Lane into Bridge Street. All the way Miss Carmody asked only one question, but it was one which Mrs Bradley found herself unable to answer satisfactorily.
    â€˜Don’t you think the little boy was murdered?’
    â€˜Only by the pricking of my thumbs, and that will hardly impress the police,’ Mrs Bradley replied. ‘It is the bump on top of his head that interests me most. I felt for it, as, no doubt, you noticed. It was a bad enough blow to have stunned him, and I have no doubt it did, but it certainly did not kill him. The question, of course, is how he came by it.’
    â€˜Well,’ said Miss Carmody, with a certain amount of hesitation, ‘he might have knocked his head accidentally and then felt faint or confused and fallen forward into the water. But there was that sandal which Edris put on the dust-cart. Crete mentioned it to me last night, and then, Ithink, wished she had not, and, certainly, I would never have dreamed of reminding her about it. Of course, she might be very glad to get rid of Edris, and if he were proved to be a murderer . . . You know, I’m afraid of Edris. He is really a very strange man . . .’
    Mrs Bradley said nothing. She was too much astonished to speak. There were various ways in which a wife could have reminded Miss Carmody about the sandal, and Mrs Bradley could not help wondering whether Miss Carmody’s remark was not uncomfortably disingenuous. After all, it was rather more likely, considering all the circumstances, that Miss Carmody, rather than Crete, should be anxious to be rid of Mr Tidson.
    Another picture rose unbidden before Mrs Bradley’s inward eye – the picture of a tall, mild-mannered spinster visiting the Cathedral by moonlight. By moonlight, Mrs Bradley reflected, glancing sidelong at her companion, almost everyone takes on a personality not entirely righteous or his own. ‘Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania,’ . . . She suddenly cackled, startling a baby and a dog.
    â€˜Why do you laugh?’ Miss Carmody nervously enquired.
    â€˜I laugh at my thoughts,’ Mrs Bradley replied,’ although they are not really much of a laughing matter. How steeply the High Street mounts to the West Gate, does it not?’
    â€˜Well, and what do you think of my naiad now?’ enquired Mr Tidson, when the party met for cocktails before dinner. ‘I have a theory that the boy was drowned in pursuit of her, you know. She may even have beckoned him in.’
    â€˜Yes, you said so before,’ said Crete. ‘But we do not see what you have to go on.’
    â€˜He was a fine little boy. I’ve seen him,’ said Miss Carmody. She described the afternoon visits which she and Mrs Bradley had paid, but did not reconstruct their conversation.
    â€˜These parents who go off in the evening and leave their children to fend for themselves are incurring a very serious responsibility,’ said Mr Tidson, beaming upon Thomas ashe beckoned him to come to where they sat. ‘Champagne cocktails, I think, this evening,