Detective and mystery stories; Sheringham, Roger (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
Roger considered. “No, I don’t think so. I gathered that you had
somehow got to know that Stanworth was blackmailing Barbara, and had
simply waded in and shot him, as any other decent chap would have done
in your place. That’s the gist of it.”
“Well,” Alec said slowly, “there’s a little more in it than that. I’d
better begin right at the beginning, I think. As you know, Barbara and
I had got engaged that afternoon. Well, I suppose you can imagine that
a thing like that rather unsettles a chap. Anyhow, the upshot was that
when I got to bed that night I found I couldn’t sleep. I tried for
some time, and then I gave it up as hopeless and looked round the room
for a book. There was nothing I particularly wanted to read there, so
I thought I’d slip down to the library and get one. Of course I had no
idea that everyone wouldn’t be in bed, so I didn’t trouble to put on a
dressing-gown but just went down as I was, in pyjamas. There were no
lights on the landing or in the hall, but to my surprise when I got
there I found all the lights in the library full on. However, there
wasn’t anyone inside and the door was open, so I went in and began to
look round the shelves. Then I heard unmistakably feminine footsteps
approaching and, hardly wishing to be caught like that, I nipped
behind those thick curtains in front of the sash window and sat down
on the seat to wait till the person, whoever it might be, had gone. I
thought it was someone come down like me for a book, and probably also
more or less in a state of undress. Not that I really thought much
about it at all. I just didn’t want to be mixed up in a rather
embarrassing situation.”
“Quite natural,” Roger murmured. “Yes?”
“Through the chink in the curtains I could see that it was Mrs. Plant.
She was still in evening dress, and I saw at once that she looked
rather worried. Very worried, in fact. She began to wander aimlessly
about the room, twisting her handkerchief about in her hands and it
looked rather as if she’d been crying. Then Stanworth came in.”
“Ah!”
Alec hesitated. “I don’t want to exaggerate or turn on the pathetic
tap too much,” he resumed a little awkwardly, “but I hope to God I
never have to see anything again like the scene that followed. Roger,
it was almost unbearable! I don’t know how I sat it out without
dashing through the curtains and getting my hands into Stanworth’s
throat; but I had the sense to see that anything like that would only
make matters very much worse. Have you ever seen a woman in agony? My
God, it was absolutely heart-rending. I could never have imagined that
a man could be such an indescribable brute.”
He paused, shivering slightly, and Roger watched him sympathetically.
He was beginning to realise just how terrible that scene must have
been, if it could move the stoical Alec to such a display of emotion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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