Читать книгу Death Makes a Prophet - Ernest Elmore - Страница 23

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Penelope, her lovely drawl trickling along the wires like spilt syrup, was emphatic. When she had left the temple shortly before seven o’clock the Crux Ansata was gleaming in its niche above the altarpiece. Hansford Boot hung up the receiver with a sigh of profound satisfaction. His intuitive reading of Penpeti’s character was even more accurate than he had imagined. Not only was he an opportunist and a scrounger but now, so it appeared, a common or garden thief. It was too good to be true!

He hastened to Eustace and Alicia in the study and handed on Penelope’s information. Eustace’s face crumpled with dismay.

“But how terrible,” he breathed. “If our suspicions prove to be correct...how truly terrible! We must see Peta without delay and give him the chance to show us how wrong we are in suspecting him.”

“No,” said Hansford shortly. “Wrong approach. Even if true, he’d deny it. What then? We couldn’t do anything. We couldn’t prove anything. Agreed?”

“Then what do you suggest,” enquired Alicia with an impatient glance.

“Police. Get them to investigate. Know how to cross-question. Find clues. Drive home guilt. Their job.”

“Oh no, no!” wailed Eustace unhappily. “What ever happens we must avoid any undesirable publicity. We can’t afford a scandal. We simply mustn’t call in the police!”

“That’s all very well,” put in Mrs. Hagge-Smith practically. “I spent a great deal of money on that Crux Ansata. It was an expensive one. Even if you’re content to let the matter slide, Eustace, I’m the one who should really be asked to make any decision. Personally I entirely agree with Hansford. We’ve got to recover that Crux Ansata. And we’ve got to discover the thief. We’ll go to the police-station without delay.”

Eustace’s watery eyes gleamed defiantly through their pince-nez.

“I refuse to come with you.”

“Very well,” said Alicia with a sniff of disapproval. “Hansford and I will go alone. At once! Come along, Hansford.”

Arkwright drove them to the police-station. It was a sedate mock-Anne building in Lavender Lane with a beautifully espaliered wistaria trailing over its red-brick façade. They were ushered at once into Inspector Duffy’s office, where with admirable clarity Hansford laid the facts of the case before the alert bullet-headed little man behind the desk. The inspector made voluminous notes.

“And this Crux Ansata?” he asked, puzzled.

“It’s the Ancient Egyptian symbol of eternal life,” explained Mrs. Hagge-Smith. “A cross with its upper arm bent into a loop. The loop being a circle, and a circle, as you know, is the nearest geometric expression to something that has no beginning and no end. Which is, of course, eternity!”

Inspector Duffy scratched his head and pushed a slip of paper towards Mr. Boot.

“Perhaps you’d better draw it for me, sir.” Hansford did so. “And what would be the approximate value of the missing article?” continued Duffy. Mrs. Hagge-Smith suggested about four hundred pounds. Duffy whistled. “I see—quite a nice little sum. And this Mr. Penpeti...what makes you suspect that...?”

Hansford etched in the details, stressing Penpeti’s apparent lack of funds and his attempts to “touch” the determinedly “untouchable” Alicia.

Duffy nodded.

“Well, sir, until I’ve something more definite to go on, I can’t do more than put this Mr. Penpeti through an ordinary cross-examination. And even then he’s under no obligation to answer my questions. Of course, he may be anxious to put forward an explanation. He may have his alibi. You’ve got no real evidence to suggest that he stole the missing article.”

“Quite,” admitted Hansford, “but felt it easier for you to put the questions. Difficult for us. Embarrassing. Agreed? Can only hope he’s cleared. Unpleasant if not. Create a scandal. Member of our faith. High up in the order, too.”

It was Inspector Duffy’s turn to say “Umph.”