Read Online Crime at Tattenham Corner by Annie Haynes - Free Book Online Page A

usual. She felt for the spring that opened the secret drawer. Was it her fancy, or did it work more stiffly than usual? It moved with a sort of creak that she did not seem to have noticed before. And then she uttered an exclamation of horror and dismay. She had put that long strip of satin with its ugly, brown stain in the drawer. Yes, there was – there could be – no mistake about that. And now the drawer was empty!
    Frantically she pulled it out. She shook it. She turned it topsy-turvy and felt behind it.
    In vain – no silk was there!

CHAPTER 6
    â€œSir Charles Stanyard?” Inspector Stoddart said inquiringly.
    â€œHe is expecting you, sir.”
    The manservant preceded Stoddart and Harbord along the passage, and opened the door at the end.
    They saw a comfortable-looking room, apparently furnished as a study, and a pleasant-looking, fair, young man sitting at the top of the table. He looked up as they entered.
    â€œGood morning, Inspector Stoddart; you wanted to see me?”
    â€œI did, Sir Charles. I am in charge of the Burslem case.”
    Stanyard raised his eyebrows. “Indeed, I fail to see the connexion. Unless, as somebody said to me plainly the other day, you imagine that I shot Sir John Burslem, so that my horse might win the Derby.”
    â€œIf I thought that I should hardly be here,” Stoddart said gravely. “But because it is my duty to trace every, even the very slenderest, clue that may help to elucidate the mystery of Sir John Burslem’s death, I must ask you to give me some account of your movements on the night of June 2nd.”
    â€œOn June 2nd.” Sir Charles Stanyard frowned, as if the effort to remember was too strenuous for him. “Well, I went over to Epsom in the afternoon. I wanted to see how Perlyon was after his journey. Epsom is rather a long way from Maybank, you know, and old Tom Burton, best trainer in the world, brought Perlyon across country in a sort of glorified horse-box, wired to me that the colt was a bit nervous, so I went down to see him. I was detained on the way, so I did not get there till after six. I found Perlyon in first-rate trim, quieted down wonderfully, and as fresh as paint. Naturally I was a bit bucked, and when Tom Burton asked me to have a bit of dinner with him, and then go round and see what news we could pick up about the other gee-gees, particularly Peep o’ Day, well, I stopped.”
    â€œAh!” Stoddart looked at him closely. “Did you see Sir John Burslem?”
    â€œNo, I did not!” Stanyard said emphatically. “And I may tell you, inspector, that even if I had wanted to win the Derby badly enough to risk my neck for it, there was no need for me to kill Sir John Burslem. Perlyon is a real first-class colt, well bred on both sides by Crown Royal out of Irish Pearl. He could have licked Peep o’ Day hollow, given him ten pounds and beaten him. I hope they may meet as four-year-olds next year, and then you will see.”
    â€œWell, I was only told that Peep o’ Day was the favourite,” the inspector returned phlegmatically. “What I know about horseflesh might be written on a threepenny bit. Beyond putting a trifle on the Derby, like everybody else, I never do any betting. May I ask what you did after your walk round with Mr. Burton, Sir Charles?”
    â€œCan’t say I did much – there was not much to be done,” Stanyard responded. “Stood about, don’t you know, talked about Perlyon and Peep o’ Day and made up our minds, me and old Tom, to put the shirts off our backs on Perlyon.”
    â€œWhat time did you start back?”
    Stanyard got up and, standing before the empty fireplace, leaned against the high wooden shelf.
    â€œWell, really, do you know, I couldn’t say positively – about twelve, or a little after, I should think. The beastly old bus broke down a mile or two out, and I had to spend a good half-hour tinkering at