Read Online Five Red Herrings by Dorothy L. Sayers - Free Book Online

naiturally they will keep a strict eye on tomorrow’s boat. But it is no unthinkable that the felly isna mekkin’ for Larne at a’. That may ha’ been juist a blind.’
    ‘Did he actually go to Stranraer?’
    ‘It seems so. The teeckets ha’ been checkit, and the third-class teecket issued at Pinwherry, was duly given up at Stranraer. Unfortunately, the porter whae collectit it is no an obsairvin’ body and canna say what like the mon was that handit it tae him.’
    ‘Well, you seem to have done pretty well on that part of the business,’ said Wimsey, ‘considering the shortness of the time. And it looks as though we really had got on to something. By the way, did the stationmaster at Pinwherry mention whether the passenger had a bicycle?’
    ‘Nay, he hadna a bicycle. I askit him how he came there, but naebody had noticed him come. It seems he juist walkit intae the station.’
    ‘Well, of course, if he was taking the Irish boat, he would probably get rid of the bicycle first. He had plenty of time to hide it up in the hills. Well — that looks rather hopeful. Still, we mustn’t rely on it too much. How about the trains in the other direction — the ones going to Glasgow?’
    Dalziel turned over a couple of pages, licked the thick pencil and produced a new list.
    a. m.
    p. m.
    p. m.
    Stranraer
    dep. 11.35
    12.30 (from Stranraer Pier)
    4.5
    Castle Kennedy
    11.42
    4.12
    Dunragit
    11.52
    12.42
    4.20
    New Luce
    12.7 p.m.
    4.33
    Glenwhilly
    12.19
    4.45
    Barrhill
    12.35
    5.0
    Pinwherry
    12.43
    5.8
    Pinmore
    12.56
    5.18
    arr. 1.6
    1.37
    5.28
    Girvan
    dep. 1.11
    1.42
    5.36
    ‘There are opportunities there, too,’ said Wimsey. ‘How about the 12.35? He could catch that easily and go on to Glasgow, and from there he could get anywhere.’
    ‘Ay, that’s so. That was what I thocht masel’. I telephoned tae the station-master at Barrhill, but there was only four passengers by thet train, an’ he knowed them a’ pairsonally.’
    ‘Oh!’ said Wimsey. ‘I see. That rather puts the lid on that, then.’
    ‘Ay. But there’s anither thing. I didna rest satisfied wi’ that. I pursued my inquiries at the ither stations along the line an’ I found there was a gentleman wi’ a bicycle tuk the 1.11 train at Girvan.’
    ‘Was there, by Jove!’ Wimsey pulled out his map of the district and studied it intently.
    ‘It could be done, Dalziel, it could be done! Barrhill is nine miles from the scene of the crime and Girvan is, say, twelve miles further on — call it twenty-one miles altogether. If he started at 11.10 that would give him two hours, which means just over ten miles an hour — easy enough for a good cyclist. Was the train punctual, by the way?’
    ‘It was. Ay, he could ha’ done it.’
    ‘Did the station-master give any description of him?’
    ‘He said that accordin’ tae the porter he was juist an ordinary gentleman of thirty or forty years of age, in a grey suit and a check cap pu’d weel doon. Clean-shaven, or nearly so, and of middling size, and he was wearin’ big glasses wi’ they tinted lenses.’
    ‘That’s suspicious,’ said Wimsey. ‘Would the porter be able to identify him, do you think?’
    ‘Ay, I’m thinkin’ he wad. He said the gentleman spoke like an Englishman.’
    ‘Did he?’ Wimsey considered his six suspects. Waters was a Londoner and spoke standard public-school English. Strachan, though a Scot, habitually spoke with an English accent, having been educated at Harrow and Cambridge. He, however, was a noticeably tall man. It could hardly be he. Gowan was double-tongued; he spoke English with Wimsey and the broadest Scots with the natives — but then, Gowan’s grand silky beard which had never known a razor was pointed out to visitors as one of the local sights of Kirkcudbright. Graham was completely Londonised, and his English would pass muster at Oxford. His astonishing blue eyes were his one really memorable feature — was this the explanation of the tinted glasses? Farren — his Scots tongue was unmistakable; nobody, surely, could