The Dartmoor Enigma

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Authors: Basil Thomson
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answering my question.”
    â€œI shall have to ask my barmaid for the answer. I don’t see everybody that calls in for a drink, but she’ll know. Laura! The last time you saw Mr. Dearborn, did he have any refreshment?”
    The lady behind the bar searched her memory.
    â€œHe had a cup of tea, Mr. Tovey; you see it was about four o’clock in the afternoon—a cup of tea and a biscuit.”
    â€œThank you, Mr. Tovey, that’s all we wanted to ask.”
    The licensee followed them out to the door in his anxiety to be helpful and watched them enter the car.
    â€œNow,” said Richardson, “the next thing we have to do is to tackle that young woman in Sun Lane and she’ll need some careful handling, because I believe that she has the key to the whole mystery. I shouldn’t wonder myself to find that Viggers was right and that she’s in love with that fellow Pengelly.”
    â€œThen she won’t give him away.”
    â€œShe won’t if she can help it.” Richardson leaned forward to speak to the driver. “You might put us down at the top of the lane and then I want you to go the round of the shops where they sell walking-sticks and see whether they stock any like the one that was picked up on the scene of the crime. You saw it, I suppose?”
    â€œYes, and I’ve had it in my hand, too.”
    â€œThen, as we may be some time in Sun Lane, you’d better go in and have your dinner.”
    Doors and windows were clear of heads this time as the two officers made their way to the dwelling of the Dukes, or, as Detective Sergeant Jago phrased it, to the “Dukeries.”
    â€œIsn’t this going to be an awkward hour for calling on the young woman, Mr. Richardson—if they’re at dinner, I mean?”
    â€œThey dine early in these parts. Perhaps you’re right. We had better go and get our own sandwiches, and catch Miss Susie Duke when she’s full fed and at peace with the world.”
    They retraced their steps and stopped at a little tea-shop a hundred yards from the opening into Sun Lane. They ordered tea and scones and Richardson laid his watch on the table.
    â€œWe’ll give them another twenty minutes,” he said.
    â€œI’m wondering how you’re going to begin your questioning, Mr. Richardson,” said Jago.
    â€œThat will depend upon the young lady and how she receives us. I never look ahead too far. The great point in questioning women is to feel one’s way and not antagonize them. If you do that they turn mulish and you get nothing out of them.”
    Jago munched his scone, ruminating. “It seems to me that the questioning of witnesses and getting statements from them is one of the fine arts/’ he said at last.
    â€œPsha! It’s a question only of being quick in the uptake and knowing something about the case before you begin. I mean to play upon the tender spot that this young woman has in her heart for her late lodger. If I have any luck I believe that something will come out that will surprise you.” He looked at the watch lying on the table. “The time’s nearly up. Swallow your tea while I pay the bill.”
    As they walked down the lane they saw through open doors that the housewives were busy at their kitchen sinks and that their daughters were carrying out scraps to the poultry in the back-yards. They pushed on to the “Dukeries” and knocked at the door. Mrs. Duke, with her sleeves turned up and a rough canvas apron on to protect her dress, opened the door. She recoiled in alarm at the sight of her visitors.
    â€œWhy, you are the same police officers that called yesterday. Is it about the lorry?”
    â€œWe have called to see your daughter, Mrs. Duke. There is nothing to be alarmed about. Perhaps you will kindly call her.”
    â€œI don’t know that she’s not gone out.”
    â€œI hope not, Mrs. Duke, because that would mean that we

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