by Annie Haynes
“Are you indeed?” Lady Anne said incredulously, as she glanced at his fair, clean-shaven countenance, at the close-cut, fair hair, brushed straight back from his forehead, and the slim, youthful figure.
“I am, indeed,” he confirmed.
“I heard of your firm from my friend, General Hetherington,” Lady Anne resumed as she motioned him to a chair very close to her own. “I believe Messrs. Wilkins and Alleyn did some very successful work for him—not only discovered the criminal but recovered the stolen property. I am speaking of a burglary that took place at Hetherington Hall last year.”
“I remember,” Bruce Cardyn nodded. “Yes, we were fortunate enough to satisfy General Hetherington.”
“But the General spoke of Messrs. Wilkins and Alleyn. I never heard him mention your name.”
“I dare say not.” Bruce Cardyn’s smile deepened. “Yet I am the junior partner. My senior’s name is Misterton. Wilkins and Alleyn is merely a—shall I say?—nom de plume. You see, if we visited you under our own names we should be more likely to be recognised by any professional crook who has read the list of private inquiry agents. If you will entrust your business to us, Lady Anne, I can promise that we will do our best for you.”
“I believe you will. But it is no easy problem that wish you to solve.”
She stopped, and seemed for a moment to be really struggling for words in which to state her dilemma.
As Bruce Cardyn watched her the pity in his grey eyes grew and strengthened. There was something very pathetic about the stern old face, with the strong mouth that twitched every now and then, and the nameless dread looking out of the big shadowed eyes.
At last Lady Anne seemed to rally her courage by a supreme effort.
“Mr. Cardyn, I have never been a coward in my life—till now! And here to-day I am living in my own house, surrounded by servants, who have for the most part grown grey in my service, and by those who are bound to me by ties of blood and professed affection, yet—”
“Yet?” Bruce Cardyn echoed, a touch of surprise in his grey eyes.
Lady Anne looked at him, the faint colour that had come back to her withered cheeks ebbing once more; the dread in her eyes deepening. Her voice sank to a whisper:
“And yet, as I say, in my own house, surrounded by those I know and love, and who one would expect to have some sort of liking for me, some one is trying to kill me!”
It was not at all what Bruce Cardyn had expected to hear. He was silent for a minute. Sundry stories he had heard of old people who accused their own families of trying to murder them recurred to his mind, but Lady Anne was not old enough for that.
“You have some ground for your belief?” he hazarded at last.
Lady Anne bent her head.
“At first it was only a mere suspicion. I tried to smother it, to assure myself that it was only the merest fancy. I said to myself I am a disagreeable, snappy old woman, I know, but surely I am not so bad that anyone should wish to murder me. Now, however, conviction has been forced upon me. But, Mr. Cardyn, before we proceed, can you with as many underlings as you choose to bring, with any and every expense guaranteed, can you promise me safety in my own house?”
Bruce Cardyn’s face was very grave. Lady Anne’s aspect was so controlled, so direct, that the momentary suspicion that had flitted across his mind was dismissed finally and for ever.
“We will do our best to ensure your safety in every way, Lady Anne,” he said steadily. “And I think we ought to succeed. More it is not in the power of mortal man to promise.”
“It is not!” Lady Anne assented. “Well, Mr. Cardyn, I am going to trust you to safeguard me. Life is sweet to anyone, suppose, even when one is old and lonely. And we all shrink from the great abyss. Now, as I tell you, my life is being attempted, has been attempted by some member of my household, as I believe, and I want you to discover who it is, and to prevent the crime. But, above all things, I do not want the regular police called in. I want the whole thing kept as quiet as possible. I know that this will make your work more difficult, but I hope you will be none the less willing to undertake it.”
“Certainly we will undertake it,” Bruce Cardyn promised, his face pale and grave. “But first you can give some of the ground you have to go upon, Lady Anne?”
Lady Anne hesitated a minute, then she bent forward and took the pill-box again.
“I think this will show you best what I have to fear. Look!” She held the box toward him.
He put up a monocle and looked at its contents with great curiosity as it lay in his hand.
“The pills in that box originally were made up by the chemist I have employed for years, from a prescription given me by my own doctor. I was taking one the last thing every night. There were twelve in the box when it came. I took one at bed-time for five nights. I was glancing at them, only after I had taken the fifth; there were still eight left! What do you make of that?”
Mr. Cardyn looked at the pills; the gravity of his expression deepened.
“You are quite sure of your facts, Lady Anne. It would not be difficult, for instance, to make a mistake in the number of pills or of the number of nights you took them.”
For answer, Lady Anne drew a small silver key from the handbag in front of her, and unlocked another small drawer. Inside was a sheet of embossed letter-paper. There were very few lines upon it, but the signature was one of the best known of the day:
DEAR LADY ANNE,
I have analysed the pills you sent me. Seven of them are harmless. The eighth contains hyoscine enough to kill ten women. I am returning them as you requested.
What can I do for you now? Please let me help you.
Yours always,
ROBERT SAINTSBURY.
“That,” said Lady Anne very deliberately, “settles the question, think!”
Published by Dean Street Press 2015
All Rights Reserved
First published in 1923 by The Bodley Head
Cover by DSP
Introduction © 2015 Curtis Evans
ISBN 978 1 911095 02 6
www.deanstreetpress.co.uk
Table of Contents
Title Page/About the Book
Introduction by Curtis Evans
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXX
CHAPTER XXXI
About The Author
Also by Annie Haynes
The House in Charlton Crescent - Title Page
The House in Charlton Crescent - Chapter I
Copyright