CHAPTER XXII
MRS. BRAXFIELD'S MOVE
Five minutes later, the charwoman, amazed and lachrymose, and holding a corner of her apron in readiness to apply to her eyes, watched the little procession move away across the garden of Woodland Cottage and over the hill-side to the edge of the grass track whereat the cab was in waiting. She kept her eyes fixed on Mrs. Braxfield until Mrs. Braxfield vanished; but Mrs. Braxfield never looked back. Her eyes were concentrated on the cab in which she was to be carried away. There were two more plain-clothes men in charge of it; one on the box, another by the door, and at sight of them she laughed satirically.
“You came pretty well prepared, I think!” she said with bitter emphasis. “I can see what was in your minds! This is what you call having a talk between ourselves—being frank and candid—and all that! Rubbish!”
“You’ve only got to be candid, Mrs. Braxfield, and there’ll be no necessity to take you away,” said the Chief Constable. “If you’ll only just tell me——”
“I shall tell nothing!” retorted Mrs. Braxfield, “Nothing at all!—not one word!—until I’ve seen my solicitor, Mr. Crewe. I suppose you’ll not deny me the right of seeing him when I get to wherever you’re going to take me?”
“You shall see Mr. Crewe within ten minutes of reaching Selcaster,” assented the Chief Constable. “I’ll give orders to that effect. My men here will see that you’re quite comfortable, and that you and Mr. Crewe have every facility you want—and I hope, Mrs. Braxfield, for your own sake, that by the time I get back to Selcaster you’ll have thought better of things and been more open and candid with your solicitor than you’ve been with me!”
“That’s my business,” said Mrs. Braxfield. “I can do it without any advice from you. But—aren’t you going back now? Mr. Crewe’ll want you.”
“Not at present,” said the Chief Constable. “You’ll go with my men—Mr. Blick and myself are now going to see Mr. Harry Markenmore.”