Six Were Present: A Bobby Owen Mystery

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Six Were Present: A Bobby Owen Mystery Page 29

by E. R. Punshon


  “That’s a bit unusual,” Bobby agreed. “Sounds as if this Mr Mark Monk had plenty of money and had been handing it out. Funny, though. Generally, it’s rings and bracelets and wrist-watches you make the running with—not crude cash. What’s the value of the missing jewellery?”

  “Mrs Winlock didn’t say exactly, but I don’t think it was anything very great,” Olive answered. “Mrs Winlock did say something about it’s being some Isobel had been promised when she got married.”

  “That means she may have thought she had a right to take it,” Bobby remarked. “I suppose they’ve no idea where the runaways are likely to have gone?”

  “Mr Winlock talked about Thameside Village,” Olive answered. “Isobel was rung up sometimes from there by an old schoolfellow she met recently—a Miss Bella Brown. She’s a journalist, and Isobel thought she would like to be one, too, and Miss Brown promised to help. The Winlocks met her once. They say she tried to be very nice to them, but they didn’t care for her—thought her common. She let Isobel come with her sometimes on some of her assignments, and once or twice Isobel stayed the night with her. But there’s no Bella Brown in the ’phone book living anywhere near Thameside. You know, Bobby, there’s something very queer about it all. I don’t believe it’s just an ordinary elopement.”

  “Well, what else can it be?” Bobby asked. Olive shook her head and said she didn’t know. Bobby said he didn’t either. Then he said: “It’s a bit queer, too, about Thameside. I don’t suppose there’s any connection, but we think there’s gambling going on there in one of the big houses along the river-bank, and we think we know the house. And the chap handling the case thinks it may be a black-market centre as well—the gambling possibly a cover for the black marketing.”

  “Mrs Barrett has a photograph of Mr Monk,” Olive said. “She showed it me. He did look horrid. The Winlocks found it in Isobel’s room after she had gone. It was pushed away at the back of a drawer. I’ll slip across and ask Mrs Barrett to let me have it to show you. You might recognize it.”

  “Wouldn’t help if I did,” Bobby told her. “Not unless it’s some one wanted, and that’s not likely.”

  But Olive had gone already, and soon was back with a small photograph she handed to Bobby. She said:

  “Mrs Barrett says it doesn’t show the look in his eyes she thought so horrid. Bobby, why do you look like that?”

  “I know him all right,” Bobby answered slowly. “I’ve seen him once. He was Matt Myers then, and he was in the dock, charged with the murder of his wife—if she was his wife, which seemed doubtful. Some one had put a knife into her, but he had a good alibi, and he was brilliantly defended. He was acquitted—after the jury had been out nearly six hours. I had nothing to do with the case, but I was in court part of the time, and had a good look at him. An ugly customer, but women were said to fall for him in the way women do sometimes for ugly men. They like the contrast, probably. After that we didn’t hear of him again till he was questioned three or four years ago about a girl he had been friendly with and who had disappeared. She has never been heard of since. There were no grounds on which proceedings could be taken. The Public Prosecutor’s office made that clear. Part of my job at the Yard just now is to help in the periodic revision of uncleared cases, and I’ve been reading the papers in this one. I quite agree with the Public Prosecutor people. Nothing was dug up to take to a jury. Strong suspicion only. Very possibly the girl is living quite happily somewhere or another—or, again, quite possibly she isn’t. I don’t suppose any one will ever know.” He paused and added slowly: “I expect it’s only a coincidence, and I would never dare shove it into an official report, but the first murder was on the night of a full moon. And it was full moon again when the other girl disappeared.”

  “It’s full moon to-night,” Olive said.

  Published by Dean Street Press 2017

  Copyright © 1956 E.R. Punshon

  Introduction Copyright © 2017 Curtis Evans

  All Rights Reserved

  This ebook is published by licence, issued under the UK Orphan Works Licensing Scheme.

  First published in 1956 by Victor Gollancz

  Cover by DSP

  ISBN 978 1 911579 14 4

  www.deanstreetpress.co.uk

 

 

 


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