More Deadly Than The Male

He went on thinking and brooding for a long time along these lines. Each train of thought always finished at the same place. He must see Cora. If he didn't see her soon, it might be too late. She might again move somewhere where it would be impossible to find her.

He left the Heath, walking quickly past the Hampstead ponds, and cut through into Haverstock Hill. It was eight-thirty by the time he reached Belsize Park Station. He bought a tuppenny ticket, and only half certain what he had in mind, descended to the platform.

The platform was deserted except for a porter, who glanced at him without interest.

The urge to know the truth forced George forward. He rattled his loose change in his pocket suggestively. The sound caught the porter's attention.

"Excuse me," George said. "Perhaps you can help me. It's about the man who was killed here this morning. He was a friend of mine I'm trying to find out how it happened." He took out two half crowns and let the porter see them. "Was there anyone on the platform at the time?"

"There wasn't anyone on the platform when my mate found 'im," the porter said, eyeing the half crowns with interest.

"You don't know if anyone bought a ticket about the time he did? I mean someone might have seen what had happened and dodged across to the other platform. They might have done that, mightn't they?"

The porter turned this idea over thoughtfully. "They could an' all," he said, nodding his head. "Never thought of it like that. Might not want to get themselves mixed up with the inquest, like."

"That's what I thought. I wonder who could tell me."

"I was on duty upstairs," the porter said. "I remember some people. S'matter of fact, I remember the bloke what did 'imself in. I saw 'im come into the hooking 'all and buy a ticket. I noticed 'im because 'e seemed a hit upset like."

"How do you mean—upset?" George asked sharply.

"Well, I dunno," the porter said, scowling in an attempt to concentrate. "Sort of worried, kept looking over 'is shoulder like 'e expected someone to meet 'im."

George went cold. "You say you remember some other people?"

"That's right. Two foreign-looking blokes came into the station and bought tickets a few minutes before your friend arrived. I particularly noticed them. Little blokes in black, wearing cloth caps."

"Go on," George said in a husky whisper.

"Well, your friend came in, and about a couple of minutes after—by the time 'e'd got down on the platform, I should say—a big woman arrived. She 'ad a lot of yellow 'air, and I noticed 'er because she was a bit like my old woman, fair busting out of 'er dress she was."

"I see." So it had been murder, after all. "And none of these people were on the platform when he was found?"

"That's right, but of course they could lave taken the up train on the other platform. It don't mean because they were down 'ere they saw anything."

A sudden thought dropped into George's mind for no apparent reason. "Was my—my friend carrying anything?" he asked.

The porter scratched his head. "Carrying anything?" he repeated. "Well, now you comes to mention it, 'e was. 'E 'ad a black leather case under 'is arm. Now, that's funny, I don't believe they found it. Now I come to fink of it, 'e 'ad it with 'im when 'e was getting 'is ticket. I remember that distinctly although it'd gone clean out of me lead until you mentioned it."

"Oh, I expect the police have got it all right," George said hurriedly. "Don't worry about it. I'll ask them."

He gave the porter the two half crowns and left the station. He was frightened now. For all he knew, they might have got onto him and were planning his death. He thought of his gun. There wasn't a moment to lose. He must never be without the gun again. He must get it immediately.