14. To Die in a Top-Hat
Hadley made a convulsive movement in his seat. Then he got out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead.
`Ha, ha,' he said, automatically. `You never hear anything important, Miss Bitton. It's most unfortunate. Now, Miss Bitton, please try to grasp the fact that some of the meaningless, unimportant conversations you overheard may be of the utmost importance. Miss Bitton, ' just how much do you know about your cousin's death?"
`Nothing, much, Mr Hadley,' she said, fretfully. `They won't tell me. I couldn't get a word out of Laura or Daddy, and Bob just said there was a sort of accident and he was killed by this man who steals all the hats but that's the only…
She broke off short as Dalrye came back into the room again. He looked more presentable now.
`Sheila,' he said, `whatever the things you want happen to be, you'd better go and pick 'em out. That place gives me the horrors. Everywhere I look Phil seems to be sitting there.'
`I'm not afraid,' the girl announced, sticking out her under-lip. `I don't believe in ghosts. You've been so long in that musty old Tower of London…'
'Tower!' Dalrye exclaimed, suddenly rumpling his sandy hair. 'Lord! I forgot.' He dragged out his watch. `Whoof! A quarter to eleven. I've been locked out three-quarters of an hour. My dear, your father will have to put up with me in the house for tonight. I'm dashed if I stay here.'
His eye wandered over to a leather couch against one wall, and he shuddered again. Hadley said:
`Now, if you please, Miss Bitton, let's go on. First tell us about this extraordinary business of your cousin wanting to die in a top-hat.'