“Blast Aunt Miriam!” said Charles savagely.
“Hallow, Charles!” said Miss Patterdale, opening the gate, and coming up to the car with a large cardboard dress-box under her arm. “I thought you'd bring Abby back, so I packed up the things for your mother's Sale of Work. Will you give them to her, please?”
He took the box from her, and threw it somewhat unceremoniously on to the back-seat. “All right, Aunt Miriam. Is that ghastly Sale upon us again already? Hell! What about running down to the sea tomorrow, after tea, Abby? I'll look in in the morning on my way to the office, and see how you feel about it. “Night, Aunt Miriam!”
“Nice boy, Charles,” remarked Miss Patterdale, accompanying her niece up the path to the front-door. “Did you solve the mystery between you?”
“No. Actually, Mr. Haswell rather squashed us. I say, Aunt Miriam, you know Charles and I looked in at the Red Lion for a short one before we went on to The Cedars? Well, we were having drinks with Gavin and Major Midgeholme when that detective who interviewed Mavis walked in, and whoever do you think he brought with him?”
“Two detectives from Scotland Yard,” said Miss Patterdale promptly. “I met them up at Fox House.”
“Oh, no, did you really? What did you think of the little one—the Chief Inspector? I rather fell for him. He's got a sense of humour, and he handled Gavin a fair treat!”
“I should say,” responded Miss Patterdale grimly, “that he is adept in handling people a fair treat, as you put it. You should have heard him with Flora Midgeholme! I knew this would lead to trouble!”
“No, why should it? Only for the murderer, and you don't mind that, do you?”
“Certainly not, but it won't be only for the murderer if I know anything about it. There won't be a skeleton in Thornden that isn't dug up. Don't tell me! Your Chief Inspector said that they always tried to be discreet. I don't know whether he thought I believed him. I suppose you know he called on Thaddeus Drybeck?”