“Very well, then, you may go, all four of you. We can send for you if you’re wanted.”
As the four were taking their seats in Milsom’s car another car drove up and deposited the divisional detective inspector at the gate. He had brought with him a detective sergeant.
“Back to your office I suppose, Miss Lane?” asked Milsom, sitting at the wheel.
“Yes, please. I’m very sorry to have brought you all into this tragic business, but—”
“How could you have known what we were going to find?” asked Milsom. “As long as these local police people don’t keep hunting us to give evidence, I don’t mind. What sort of man is Pomeroy?”
“Oh, his family is well known here. They live in Ealing—most respectable people.”
“And his wife—the dead woman?”
“Oh, I never listen to gossip. If I did…”
Milsom understood. “If you did you could tell us a lot, I’ve no doubt. The extraordinary thing to me is to think that the husband could be quietly grubbing up weeds in his garden while his wife was being murdered in the house behind him.”
“Surely she must have screamed,” said Christine.
“Or she must have known the murderer,” said Milsom.
“One thing I feel sure of,” said Miss Lane: “it was not Mr Pomeroy; he would never have done such a thing.”
“Or, if he had, he wouldn’t have invited us into the house to find the body,” observed Milsom. “The type of man that I take him to be could never have acted so cool a part. He would have been straining every nerve to do a bunk.”
Having deposited Miss Lane at her office, Milsom turned to Christine. “Any more bungalows this morning?”
“No thank you, Mr Milsom. I’ve seen enough bungalows to last me a lifetime.”
Published by Dean Street Press 2016
All Rights Reserved
First published in 1935 by Eldon Press as Richardson Solves a Dartmoor Mystery
Cover by DSP
Introduction © 2016 Martin Edwards
ISBN 978 1 911095 76 7
www.deanstreetpress.co.uk
The Dartmoor Enigma Page 23