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Updated: June 8, 2025
I've got Krevin Crood, and I've got Simon Crood safely under lock and key. But I haven't got the other two!" "What other two?" exclaimed Brent. Hawthwaite smiled sourly. "What other two?" he repeated. "Why, Mallett and Coppinger! They're off, though how the devil they got wind of what was going on I can't think. Leaked out, somehow." "You suspect them too?" asked Brent.
"Perhaps by then you can give me more news, Mr. Superintendent? Murdered! The Mayor of Hathelsborough! Now that's something that's unique in the history of the town, I believe. I was looking over the records not so long since, and I don't remember coming across any entry of such an event as this. Unparalleled!" Hawthwaite made no reply.
He saw nothing in it beyond the natural desire of a sensitive, highly-strung woman to keep herself aloof from an unpleasant episode, and he said so. "I don't see what good Hawthwaite hoped to get by ever calling Mrs. Saumarez before the Coroner," he added. "She told nothing that everybody didn't know. What did it all amount to?" "Ay, but that's just it, in a town like this, Mr.
Hawthwaite, a big, bearded man, was obviously upset, if not actually frightened; his ruddy face had paled under the caretaker's startling news, and he drew his breath sharply as he entered the Mayor's Parlour and caught sight of the still figure lying across the big desk in the middle. "God bless my life and soul, Mr.
Heard more secrets and private communications in my time than I can remember; I've clean forgotten most of 'em." "Very well," agreed Wellesley. "This is strictly private, then, at present. Now, to begin with, I suppose you have both heard it's pretty well known through the town, I understand that Mrs. Mallett has left her husband?" "Ay!" replied Hawthwaite. "I've heard that." "Yes," said Brent.
But I couldn't catch a word they were on the opposite side of the lane, you see, close to the garden wall." "And eventually?" asked Brent. "Oh, eventually they parted of course," replied Hawthwaite. "She slipped back into the garden, and he went off down the lane. Now "
"I have never seen the handkerchief, or, rather, the remains of it. I heard that some portion of a handkerchief, charred and blood-stained, was found on the hearth in the Mayor's Parlour, and that it had been handed over to Superintendent Hawthwaite, but I have not had it shown to me."
She used to go out bicycling a good deal by herself in those early days that, I fancy, was how she got to know both Wellesley and your cousin. She was fond enough of their society anyway!" "Always?" asked Brent. He was learning things that he had never heard of, and was already thinking deeply about them. "From the beginning?" "Well, practically," replied Hawthwaite.
"Ay!" said Hawthwaite. "As I said just now, I'd have given a good deal to know. But Krevin Crood is a deep, designing, secret sort of man, and that woman, whoever she may be, looks just the same." "Has she been with Mrs. Saumarez long?" asked Brent. "Came with her, when Mrs. Saumarez first came and took the Abbey House," replied Hawthwaite. "Always been with her; went away with her when Mrs.
No light job, Mr. Brent but we found this." And with a jerk of his wrist he drew from the brown paper a long, thin, highly polished rapier, the highly burnished steel of which was dulled along half its length, as if it had been first dimmed and then hastily rubbed. "I make no doubt that this was what it was done with," continued Hawthwaite.
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