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Authors: Simon Brett
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proprietress looked as if she had just swallowed something singularly disgusting and was faced with more unpalatable mouthfuls ahead. Mrs Pargeter's openness and ready suggestion of a search had convinced her accuser that the blame for the theft lay elsewhere. That raised the unpleasant prospect of investigating the other residents of the Devereux.
And also Miss Naismith had the uncomfortable knowledge that she had overplayed her hand and allowed her antipathy to Mrs Pargeter to become too nakedly apparent.
'Well, don't let me keep you any longer.' Mrs Pargeter rose from her chair. 'On the strict understanding that the matter is never raised again, I am quite happy to forget what has been said here this morning.' She smiled sweetly at her accusers. 'And do let me know if there is anything I can do to help you in your investigations into this unfortunate incident.'
She moved to the door, but stopped before she opened it.
'Oh, one thing, Miss Naismith . . . I wonder, would it be possible for me to hand my jewellery to you to be kept in the hotel safe . . . ? It would be most regrettable if there were another lapse of security at the Devereux, wouldn't it?'
'Yes. Yes, of course that would be possible,' Miss Naismith replied, tight-lipped.
'Might I have a look at the safe?' asked Mrs Pargeter charmingly. 'Unless it's of a reputable manufacture, I might decide I'd be better advised to put my valuables in the bank.'
Wordlessly, Miss Naismith moved an embroidered fire-screen to reveal a square grey metal box, on which a silver plate bore the legend, 'Clissold & Fry – Excalibur Two'.
'Oh, yes, that will be quite adequate. If I may, I'll bring my jewellery down as soon as possible. If that's convenient . . . ?
'Of course. Any time,' said Miss Naismith with a ghastly smile, as Mrs Pargeter moved gracefully out of the Office.
CHAPTER 15
In the Entrance Hall Mrs Pargeter paused for a moment of grim satisfaction. She had no doubt that she had seen off Miss Naismith, but she was still angry that the accusation had ever been made. None of the other residents would have been attacked frontally in that manner, and, though usually Mrs Pargeter was the most tolerant of individuals, another legacy of her life with the late Mr Pargeter was a certain sensitivity to imputations of criminal behaviour.
Still, she thought with a wicked little surge of glee, she had effectively diverted them from questions about what she was doing in Mrs Selsby's room in the middle of the night.
She looked out through the glass of the closed front doors to the greyness beyond, and saw a small figure wound up in a plum-coloured coat walking briskly away from the hotel on the other side of the road. In spite of the black fur hat pulled down over the ears, she had no difficulty in recognising Mrs Mendlingham.
Mrs Pargeter decided she might put her own coat on and go for a walk.
The coat in question was a mink, which the late Mr Pargeter, always the soul of generosity, had presented to her after a particularly successful business venture, and that morning she was glad of its warmth. The weather, which had not been good for some time, seemed now to have lapsed into icy melancholy, as if it had lost faith in the idea of there ever being a summer. The wind carried a stinging spray – or maybe it was rain – and the sea was lost about fifty yards out in sticky fog.
It was not a morning for recreational walking, and Mrs Pargeter wondered where Mrs Mendlingham was headed with such apparent determination. As she emerged from the Devereux and felt the first breath-snatching blast of the weather, Mrs Pargeter could still see the small plum-coloured figure striding along the front and, without hurrying, she had no difficulty in keeping her quarry in sight.
Mrs Mendlingham was walking along towards the Arun estuary, past the closed Smart's Amusements, on whose wall even the perky figure of Mickey Mouse looked forlorn. The exposed metalwork of the
And also Miss Naismith had the uncomfortable knowledge that she had overplayed her hand and allowed her antipathy to Mrs Pargeter to become too nakedly apparent.
'Well, don't let me keep you any longer.' Mrs Pargeter rose from her chair. 'On the strict understanding that the matter is never raised again, I am quite happy to forget what has been said here this morning.' She smiled sweetly at her accusers. 'And do let me know if there is anything I can do to help you in your investigations into this unfortunate incident.'
She moved to the door, but stopped before she opened it.
'Oh, one thing, Miss Naismith . . . I wonder, would it be possible for me to hand my jewellery to you to be kept in the hotel safe . . . ? It would be most regrettable if there were another lapse of security at the Devereux, wouldn't it?'
'Yes. Yes, of course that would be possible,' Miss Naismith replied, tight-lipped.
'Might I have a look at the safe?' asked Mrs Pargeter charmingly. 'Unless it's of a reputable manufacture, I might decide I'd be better advised to put my valuables in the bank.'
Wordlessly, Miss Naismith moved an embroidered fire-screen to reveal a square grey metal box, on which a silver plate bore the legend, 'Clissold & Fry – Excalibur Two'.
'Oh, yes, that will be quite adequate. If I may, I'll bring my jewellery down as soon as possible. If that's convenient . . . ?
'Of course. Any time,' said Miss Naismith with a ghastly smile, as Mrs Pargeter moved gracefully out of the Office.
CHAPTER 15
In the Entrance Hall Mrs Pargeter paused for a moment of grim satisfaction. She had no doubt that she had seen off Miss Naismith, but she was still angry that the accusation had ever been made. None of the other residents would have been attacked frontally in that manner, and, though usually Mrs Pargeter was the most tolerant of individuals, another legacy of her life with the late Mr Pargeter was a certain sensitivity to imputations of criminal behaviour.
Still, she thought with a wicked little surge of glee, she had effectively diverted them from questions about what she was doing in Mrs Selsby's room in the middle of the night.
She looked out through the glass of the closed front doors to the greyness beyond, and saw a small figure wound up in a plum-coloured coat walking briskly away from the hotel on the other side of the road. In spite of the black fur hat pulled down over the ears, she had no difficulty in recognising Mrs Mendlingham.
Mrs Pargeter decided she might put her own coat on and go for a walk.
The coat in question was a mink, which the late Mr Pargeter, always the soul of generosity, had presented to her after a particularly successful business venture, and that morning she was glad of its warmth. The weather, which had not been good for some time, seemed now to have lapsed into icy melancholy, as if it had lost faith in the idea of there ever being a summer. The wind carried a stinging spray – or maybe it was rain – and the sea was lost about fifty yards out in sticky fog.
It was not a morning for recreational walking, and Mrs Pargeter wondered where Mrs Mendlingham was headed with such apparent determination. As she emerged from the Devereux and felt the first breath-snatching blast of the weather, Mrs Pargeter could still see the small plum-coloured figure striding along the front and, without hurrying, she had no difficulty in keeping her quarry in sight.
Mrs Mendlingham was walking along towards the Arun estuary, past the closed Smart's Amusements, on whose wall even the perky figure of Mickey Mouse looked forlorn. The exposed metalwork of the
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