Partners in Crime

"We advance, Tuppence. Our interview proceeded on the lines indicated. I then asked casually whether he had had much gold paid in, as is often the case nowadays in these small country banks-small farmers who hoarded it during the war, you understand. From that we proceeded quite naturally to the extraordinary vagaries of old ladies. I invented an aunt, who on the outbreak of the war, drove to the Army and Navy Stores in a four wheeler, and returned with sixteen hams. He immediately mentioned a client of his own who had insisted on drawing out every penny of money she had-in gold as far as possible, and who also insisted on having her securities, bearer bonds and such things, given into her own custody. I exclaimed on such an act of folly, and he mentioned casually that she was the former owner of the Red House. You see, Tuppence? She drew out all this money, and she hid it somewhere. You remember that Monica Deane mentioned that they were astonished at the small amount of her estate? Yes, she hid it in the Red House, and someone knows about it. I can make a pretty good guess who that someone is too."

"Who?"

"What about the faithful Crockett? She would know all about her mistress's peculiarities."

"And that gold-toothed Dr. O'Neill?"

"The gentlemanly nephew, of course! That's it. But whereabouts did she hide it? You know more about old ladies than I do, Tuppence. Where do they hide things?"

"Wrapped up in stockings and petticoats, under mattresses."

Tommy nodded.

"I expect you're right. All the same, she can't have done that because it would have been found when her things were turned over. It worries me-you see, an old lady like that can't have taken up floors or dug holes in the garden. All the same it's there in the Red House somewhere. Crockett hasn't found it, but she knows it's there, and once they get the house to themselves, she and her precious nephew, they can turn it upside down until they find what they're after. We've got to get ahead of them. Come on, Tuppence. We'll go to the Red House."

Monica Deane received them. To her mother and Crockett they were represented as would be purchasers of the Red House which would account for their being taken all over the house and grounds. Tommy did not tell Monica of the conclusions he had come to, but he asked her various searching questions. Of the garments and personal belongings of the dead woman, some had been given to Crockett and the others sent to various poor families. Everything had been gone through and turned out.

"Did your aunt leave any papers?"

"The desk was full, and there were some in a drawer in her bedroom, but there was nothing of importance amongst them."

"Have they been thrown away?"

"No, my mother is always very loath to throw away old papers. There were some old fashioned recipes among them which she intends to go through one day."

"Good," said Tommy approvingly. Then, indicating an old man who was at work upon one of the flower beds in the garden, he asked: "Was that old man the gardener here in your aunt's time?"

"Yes, he used to come three days a week. He lives in the village. Poor old fellow, he is past doing any really useful work. We have him just once a week to keep things tidied up. We can't afford more."

Tommy winked at Tuppence to indicate that she was to keep Monica with her, and he himself stepped across to where the gardener was working. He spoke a few pleasant words to the old man, asked him if he had been there in the old lady's time, and then said casually:

"You buried a box for her once, didn't you?"

"No, sir, I never buried naught for her. What should she want to bury a box for?"

Tommy shook his head. He strolled back to the house frowning. It was to be hoped that a study of the old lady's papers would yield some clue-otherwise the problem was a hard one to solve. The house itself was old fashioned, but not old enough to contain a secret room or passage.

Before leaving, Monica brought them down a big cardboard box, tied with string.

"I've collected all the papers," she whispered. "And they're in here. I thought you could take it away with you, and then you'll have plenty of time to go over them-but I'm sure you won't find anything to throw light on the mysterious happenings in this house-"

Her words were interrupted by a terrific crash overhead. Tommy ran quickly up the stairs. A jug and basin in one of the front rooms was lying on the ground broken to pieces. There was no one in the room.

"The ghost up to its tricks again," he murmured with a grin.

He went down stairs again thoughtfully.

"I wonder, Miss Deane, if I might speak to the maid, Crockett, for a minute."

"Certainly. I will ask her to come to you."

Monica went off to the kitchen. She returned with the elderly maid who had opened the door to them earlier.

"We are thinking of buying this house," said Tommy pleasantly, "and my wife was wondering whether, in that case, you would care to remain on with us?"

Crockett's respectable face displayed no emotion of any kind.