Battle, Superintendent (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Police -- England -- Fiction
But Anthony was shaking his head vigorously.
“Not at all. I don’t know anything about your moral character. You
might have a lover, and you might write to him. But you’d never lie
down to be blackmailed. The Virginia Revel of those letters was scared
stiff. You’d have fought.”
“I wonder who the real Virginia Revel is—where she is, I mean. It
makes me feel as though I had a double somewhere.”
Anthony lit a cigarette.
“You know that one of the letters was written from Chimneys?” he asked
at last.
“What?” Virginia was clearly startled. “When was it written?”
“It wasn’t dated. But it’s odd, isn’t it?”
“I’m perfectly certain no other Virginia Revel has ever stayed at
Chimneys. Bundle or Lord Caterham would have said something about the
coincidence of the name if she had.”
“Yes. It’s rather queer. Do you know, Mrs. Revel, I am beginning to
disbelieve profoundly in this other Virginia Revel.”
“She’s very elusive,” agreed Virginia.
“Extraordinarily elusive. I am beginning to think that the person who
wrote those letters deliberately used your name.”
“But why?” cried Virginia. “Why should they do such a thing?”
“Ah, that’s just the question. There’s the devil of a lot to find out
about everything.”
“Who do you really think killed Michael?” asked Virginia suddenly. “The
Comrades of the Red Hand?”
“I suppose they might have done so,” said Anthony in a dissatisfied
voice. “Pointless killing would be rather characteristic of them.”
“Let’s get to work,” said Virginia. “I see Lord Caterham and Bundle
strolling together. The first thing to do is to find out definitely
whether the dead man is Michael or not.”
Anthony paddled to shore and a few moments later they had joined Lord
Caterham and his daughter.
“Lunch is late,” said his lordship in a depressed voice. “Battle has
insulted the cook, I expect.”
“This is a friend of mine, Bundle,” said Virginia. “Be nice to him.”
Bundle looked earnestly at Anthony for some minutes, and then addressed
a remark to Virginia as though he had not been there.
“Where do you pick up these nice-looking men, Virginia? ‘How do you do
it?’ says she enviously.”
“You can have him,” said Virginia generously. “I want Lord Caterham.”
She smiled upon the flattered peer, slipped her hand through his arm
and they moved off together.
“Do you talk?” asked Bundle. “Or are you just strong and silent?”
“Talk?” said Anthony. “I babble. I murmur. I gurgle—like the running
brook, you know. Sometimes I even ask questions.”
“As for instance?”
“Who occupies the second room on the left from the end?”
He pointed to it as he spoke.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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