Mrs. Jeffries Pinches the Post by Emily Brightwell Read Free Book Online

about who this feller is, that’s when it’ll come to one of you.” She directed her gaze to Smythe. “So this Nye fellow was stabbed in a deserted house?”
    “On the walkway,” Smythe explained. “I saw the body. It looked to me like the man must have been right at the front door when he got knifed.” He glanced at Betsy to make sure she wasn’t offended by his rather colorful description, but she was listening as hard as the rest of them.
    “What do you mean?” Mrs. Jeffries asked. She didn’t doubt the importance of the coachman’s observations, she merely wanted more details as to how he’d come by them.
    Smythe reached for a bun. “Well, I got there before the mortuary van arrived, and I saw the body before they had a chance to muck it about. It was lying just this side of the front door, on his side, he was. It looked to me like someone had come up behind him and knifed him just as he reached the front door.”

    “But didn’t you just say the house was deserted?” Luty asked.
    “That’s what don’t make sense.” Smythe popped a bite of bun in his mouth. “Why would anyone be visiting an empty house in the middle of the night?”
    “Why do you think he was killed in the middle of the night?” Luty asked.
    “I don’t know when he was killed, but I overheard one of the neighbors sayin’ as he weren’t lyin’ there at eleven last night because her husband come home late and he’d have noticed a bloody great corpse in the neighbor’s front garden. If she were tellin’ the truth, that would mean he had to ‘ave been killed later that night.”
    “Or early this morning,” Luty said.
    “Whose house is it?” Betsy asked. “Maybe it belongs to this Nye fellow, and that’s why he was there so late at night.”
    “That’s another interestin’ bit,” Smythe said. “It belongs to a woman named Miss Geddy. Seems she up and disappeared herself about two months ago. Some of the locals think she’s been murdered.”
    “You mean we’ve got two murders?” Wiggins exclaimed.
    “I don’t know what we’ve got.” Smythe took another fast sip of tea. “I didn’t get a chance to find out more. I was going to meet this lad at the corner cafe and see what he knew about everything, when blow me for a tin soldier, if I don’t see the inspector and Constable Barnes coming straight at me.”
    “They didn’t see you, did they?” Mrs. Jeffries asked.
    “I don’t think so,” he replied. “But it were a close call. I thought I’d go back to the neighborhood this afternoon and have another go at sussin’ out what’s what.”
    Mrs. Jeffries thought about it for a moment. They didn’t know much. But they did have some names and the address where the murder took place. That was enough to start with. “I think that’s a very good idea. As a matter of fact, I think we should all get out and see what we can learn.”
    “I can git over to the city and see what I can find out about this Harrison Nye fellow,” Luty said eagerly. “You always say we ought to start with the victim.”
    “That’s an excellent idea, Luty,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. If the murdered man had so much as a farthing invested with anyone in the City of London, Luty would get the details.
    “I do wish I could remember where I’d heard that name,” Hatchet muttered. “Never mind, then, I’ve a few resources of my own to tap. Should I see if anyone has heard of this Miss Geddy?”
    “Get all the information you can find,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. She glanced at Betsy. “Would you mind going over to Fulham and having a go at the shopkeepers?”
    Betsy grinned. “I was planning on it. Too bad this Nye fellow wasn’t a local. Maybe I ought to concentrate on finding out about this Miss Geddy …”
    “You’d best be careful, there’s going to be police all over Hurlingham Road. That’s where all the shops are. A good many of them know you by sight.”
    Betsy shrugged. “I’ll be careful.”
    “We’ll go