United States or Azerbaijan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"It is past ten now and anything may happen." "Quite natural, Mr. Hollyer," said Carrados reassuringly, "but you need have no anxiety. Creake is being watched, the house is being watched, and your sister is as safe as if she slept to-night in Windsor Castle.
"I see," agreed Hollyer. "I'm awfully uneasy but I'm entirely in your hands." "Then we will give Mr. Creake every inducement and every opportunity to get to work. Where are you staying now?" "Just now with some friends at St. Albans." "That is too far." The inscrutable eyes retained their tranquil depth but a new quality of quickening interest in the voice made Mr.
Carrados, it is my absolute conviction that Creake is only waiting for a favourable opportunity to murder Millicent." "Go on," said Carrados quietly. "A week of the depressing surroundings of Brookbend Cottage would not alone convince you of that, Mr. Hollyer." "I am not so sure," declared Hollyer doubtfully.
A few weeks ago Creake told him that he would not require him again as he was going to do his own gardening in future." "That is something, Louis." "If only Creake was going to poison his wife with hyoscyamine and bury her, instead of blowing her up with a dynamite cartridge and claiming that it came in among the coal." "True, true. Still "
Creake is sometimes away for days and nights at a time, and Millicent, either through pride or indifference, seems to have dropped off all her old friends and to have made no others. He might poison her, bury the body in the garden, and be a thousand miles away before anyone began even to inquire about her. What am I to do, Mr. Carrados?"
The gist of it was that she had the strongest suspicion that Creake doctored a bottle of stout which he expected she would drink for her supper when she was alone. The weed-killer, properly labelled, but also in a beer bottle, was kept with other miscellaneous liquids in the same cupboard as the beer but on a high shelf.
So I broached the subject and said that I should like to have it now as I had an opportunity for investing." "And you think?" "It may possibly influence Creake to act sooner than he otherwise might have done. He may have got possession of the principal even and find it very awkward to replace it." "So much the better.
"Some day, my friend," remarked Mr. Carlyle, looking nervously toward the unseen house, "your ingenuity will get you into a tight corner." "Then my ingenuity must get me out again," was the retort. "Let us have our 'view' now. The telegram can wait." An untidy workwoman took their order and left them standing at the door. Presently a lady whom they both knew to be Mrs. Creake appeared.
"Creake himself," he whispered across the car, as a man appeared at the gate. "Hollyer was right; he is hardly changed. Waiting for a car, I suppose." But a car very soon swung past them from the direction in which Mr. Creake was looking and it did not interest him. For a minute or two longer he continued to look expectantly along the road. Then he walked slowly up the drive back to the house.
"We have occasionally found trifles of significance ourselves," said Carrados encouragingly. "Don't let that deter you." This was the essence of Lieutenant Hollyer's narrative: "I have a sister, Millicent, who is married to a man called Creake. She is about twenty-eight now and he is at least fifteen years older.
Word Of The Day