The Hollow

She had broken down then, becoming hysterical.

"Don't ask me about it-don't talk about it-I can't talk about it… it's all too dreadful."

"But they'll find out, won't they? I mean they have to find out. It's necessary."

So reasonable, so detached… It made

Gerda want to scream and laugh and cry.

She thought. He doesn't care-he can't care-he just goes on asking questions.

Why, he hasn't cried, even.

Terence had gone away, evading his Aunt Elsie's ministrations, a lonely little boy with a stiff pinched face. He had always felt alone.

But it hadn't mattered until today.

Today, he thought, was different. If only there was someone who would answer questions reasonably and intelligently.

Tomorrow, Tuesday, he and Nicholson Minor were going to make nitroglycerine.

He had been looking forward to it with a thrill. The thrill had gone. He didn't care if he never made nitroglycerine.

Terence felt almost shocked at himself.

Not to care any more about scientific experiment!

But when a chap's father had been murdered… He thought. My father-murdered…

And something stirred-took root- grew … a slow anger.

Beryl Collier tapped on the bedroom door and came in. She was pale, composed, efficient.

She said:

"Inspector Grange is here." And as Gerda gasped and looked at her piteously. Beryl went on quickly, "He said/there was no need for him to worry you. He'll have a word with you before he goes, but it is just routine questions about Dr. Christow's practice and I can tell him everything he wants to know."

"Oh, thank you. Collie."

Beryl made a rapid exit and Gerda sighed out:

"Collie is such a help. She's so practical."

"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Patterson. "An excellent secretary, I'm sure. Very plain, poor girl, isn't she? Oh, well, I always think that's just as well. Especially with an attractive man like John was."

Gerda flamed out at her:

"What do you mean, Elsie? John would never-he never-you talk as though John would have flirted or something horrid if he had had a pretty secretary. John wasn't like that at all."

"Of course not, darling," said Mrs. Patterson.

"But after all, one knows what men are like!"

In the consulting room Inspector Grange faced the cool, belligerent glance of Beryl Collier. It was belligerent, he noted that.

Well, perhaps that was only natural.

Plain bit of goods, he thought. Nothing between her and the doctor, I shouldn't think. She may have been sweet on him, though. It works that way sometimes.

But not this time, he came to the conclusion, when he leaned back in his chair a quarter of an hour later. Beryl Collier's answers to his questions had been models of clearness. She replied promptly, and obviously had every detail of the doctor's practice at her fingertips. He shifted his ground and began to probe gently into the relations existing between John Christow and his wife.

They had been. Beryl said, on excellent terms.

"I suppose they quarrelled every now and then like most married couples?" The Inspector sounded easy and confidential.

"I do not remember any quarrels. Mrs.

Christow was quite devoted to her husband-really quite slavishly so."

There was a faint edge of contempt in her voice. Inspector Grange heard it.

Bit of a feminist, this girl, he thought.

Aloud he said:

"Didn't stand up for herself at all?"

"No. Everything revolved round Dr.

Christow."

"Tyrannical, eh?"

Beryl considered.

"No, I wouldn't say that… But he was what I should call a very selfish man. He took it for granted that Mrs. Christow would always fall in with his ideas."

"Any difficulties with patients-women,

I mean? You needn't mind about being frank. Miss Collier. One knows doctors have their difficulties in that line."

"Oh, that sort of thing!" Beryl's voice was scornful. "Dr. Christow was quite equal to dealing with any difficulties in that line. He had an excellent manner with patients." She added, "He was really a wonderful doctor."

There was an almost grudging admiration in her voice.

Grange said, "Was he tangled up with any woman? Don't be loyal. Miss Collier, it's important that we should know."

"Yes, I can appreciate that. Not to my knowledge."

A little too brusque, he thought. She doesn't know, but perhaps she guesses…

He said sharply, "What about Miss Henrietta Savernake?"

Beryl's lips closed tightly.

"She was a close friend of the family's."

"No-trouble between Dr. and Mrs.

Christow on her account?"

"Certainly not."

The answer was emphatic. (Overemphatic?) The Inspector shifted his ground.

"What about Miss Veronica Cray?"

"Veronica Cray?"

There was pure astonishment in Beryl's voice.

"She was a friend of Dr. Christow's, was she not?"

"I never heard of her. At least, I seem to know the name-"

"The motion picture actress."

Beryl's brow cleared.

"Of course! I wondered why the name was familiar. But I didn't even know that Dr.

Christow knew her."