Read Online Richardson's First Case by Basil Thomson - Free Book Online

he turned round in great excitement and said, ‘There is Aunt Emily!’”
    â€œYou watched him, naturally, to see whether he overtook her?”
    â€œYes, but I soon lost sight of him in the crowd; people were crowding onto the bus, and they obscured my view.”
    â€œWhen you last saw him which direction was he taking?”
    â€œHe was going towards Baker Street, shouldering his way through the crowd. When my bus started I looked out of the window for him, but I didn’t see him. At the pace he was going I think he must have overtaken her.”
    â€œAnd so when you read about Mrs. Catchpool’s death in the paper you asked Mr. Kennedy to come round to the Yard and tell us?”
    â€œNo, I didn’t ask him to do anything, but when I saw in the papers that she was supposed to have been murdered just after five, I told Mr. Kennedy that Mr. Sharp had seen her alive and pointed her out to me at a little after six.”
    â€œThank you very much, Miss Summers,” said Foster, rising and putting away his notebook. “I won’t take up your time any longer.” As he reached the hall, Kennedy intercepted him.
    â€œOh, come, Mr. Foster, we can’t let you run away like that. Come in and have a drink and make the acquaintance of my wife. No, it’s no good shaking your head. You come from Scotland, so you can’t be a teetotaller, and you can say ‘when’ before I’ve poured out enough to cover a sixpence.”
    Nan made a charming hostess; Guy Kennedy was stricken with deafness when the first “when” was given, and Inspector Foster took his place in the family circle as if he had known them all his life. He decided to improve the occasion. “I’m afraid that I’ve put Miss Summers through a terrible cross-examination.”
    â€œShe seems to have thrived on it. I’ve often wondered what the third degree felt like. I suppose when she fell asleep you shouted ‘boo’ in her ear.”
    â€œHow can you, Guy!” Joan expostulated. “How could one fall asleep! Besides, I’d nothing to tell Mr. Foster except the fact that Mike owed money.”
    â€œOwed money? Well, of course he did. All naval officers do that at times: their tastes are high, and their pay is so scandalously low.”
    â€œYou were a brother officer of Mr. Sharp, were you not, Mr. Kennedy?” cooed Inspector Foster.
    â€œI was, and if he kept out of serious trouble it was due to my fatherly eye. He had a distressing habit of blurting out the truth to his seniors.”
    â€œYou didn’t teach him to lie, Guy?” interposed Nan.
    â€œTo lie! What do you take me for? I taught him to handle the truth diplomatically.”
    â€œAnd you knew poor Mrs. Catchpool?” asked Foster.
    â€œOf course we did: she dined here last Monday. And, by the way, when is the funeral to be? We want to attend it.”
    â€œI will let you know as soon as the date is settled. The inquest will open tomorrow, sir, but the proceedings will be only formal and the coroner will adjourn it. The funeral will take place, I suppose, on Saturday. She was going to leave her flat, was she not?”
    â€œNot if she could help it, I can tell you that. Her husband wanted to turn her out after she’d had it for nearly twenty years. However, de mortuis …I’ll say no more about him. He loved money, and he’s gone to a place where money melts.”
    â€œGuy!” protested his wife. “You see, Mr. Foster, her husband had had an offer for the entire house; he was getting rid of the other tenants, and he offered Mrs. Catchpool another flat in exchange, but she didn’t like it as well as the old one, and that was all the trouble.”
    â€œShe might have gone to a solicitor,” said Guy; “but she wouldn’t do that. I think she rather enjoyed fighting the old man.”
    Inspector Foster rose to go.
    â€œBy the way, Mr.