Death at Hallows End by Leo Bruce Read Free Book Online Page B

she had something pretty delish for today.”
    â€œThat’s fine. As soon as it can be managed then.”
    The landlord disappeared and presently his wife, a rather sullen young woman, appeared, to lay a cloth on one of the glass-topped tables. She did not seem to enjoy her work.
    â€œThere’s only sheep’s hearts,” she said.
    â€œThank you,” Carolus smiled. “I like them very much.”
    â€œIt’s a good thing you do because that’s all we’ve got. It’s no good laying a lot in at this time of year.”
    â€œOf course not. Very kind of you.”
    â€œYou can have some soup first if you want it,” she melted sufficiently to say.
    â€œExcellent.”
    â€œAnd there’s a treacle-roll for afterwards.” She was brightening rapidly. “But I don’t expect you care for that.”
    â€œI love it,” said Carolus truthfully and wondered what Mrs. Stick would say.
    â€œLike some sprouts with your heart?”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œThere’s a nice Stilton, too.”
    â€œIt’s a banquet,” Carolus told her.
    â€œI knew there’d be suffish,” put in the landlord. “Catering-wise the wife’s terrif, really. Only she doesn’t shout about it.”
    â€œNo, and I don’t call a twelve-by-twelve little dining-room the Tudor Hall and then have to ask people to eat in the Saloon. And I don’t put up a notice saying lunch being served now, when there’s not a soul in the house,” she retorted, her irritation returning with a rush.
    As she went out, the landlord grinned at Carolus.
    â€œThat’s the way they are,” he said. “But I don’t expect I have to tell you that. Woman-wise I bet you’re pretty expier.”

C HAPTER F IVE
    I T WAS A COLD AND gloomy afternoon of low clouds and a threat of rain when Carolus left the Falstaff Hotel and took the road to Hallows End. He wanted to have a look round the village and the road to Monk’s Farm before meeting any of the people with whom he intended eventually to become acquainted.
    The road was not wide and its many curves were not made easier to take by the high hedges which ran on each side of it. But he passed nothing except a small farm lorry, which obligingly pulled hard in and waved him past. Even so, it took some twelve minutes to cover the four miles.
    The village, when he reached it, appeared to be a rather dreary collection of small houses with one or two larger ones hiding behind dense shrubs. It had an overgrown and neglected look and its streets were almost empty of pedestrians. There was a pub, the Ploughman, and a few shops, including a post office, general store, a butcher’s and a family grocer’s, all of which would have benefited from a coat of paint. No church was visible and if the Rectory was here, it was indistinguishable from other larger houses.
    However, he decided not to spend time on enquiries at the moment but to take the road out to Monk’s Farm, the road beside which Duncan Humby’s car had been found. He had to ask the way to this and stopped beside a gnomish little manhobbling along with a twisted stick, a de la Mare creature with sharp eyes under thick brows.
    â€œMonk’s Farm?” the gnome said. “What you going there for?” Amused, Carolus told him he had business.
    â€œOh,” said the gnome and stared at him without giving any information.
    â€œCould you…”
    â€œYou going to see those Neasts?”
    â€œYes,” said Carolus, without impatience.
    â€œQueer lot,” said the little man and stared again.
    â€œThe same road leads to the church, doesn’t it?”
    â€œChurch is beyond the farm. I don’t know whether you’ll find those Neasts about up there. Police have been to see them.”
    â€œI can try,” said Carolus, “if you’ll tell me …”
    â€œThey’ve just lost one of their