The Bungalow Mystery by Annie Haynes Read Free Book Online Page A

his manner odd, that they were speculating about him.
    They got out hurriedly at Sheffield, and he lost sight of them as he made his way to the Northchester train. It was crowded. Relatives and friends were hurrying down to claim the dead or nurse the injured. Roger had some difficulty in finding a seat. He wondered vaguely whether Courtney’s betrothed would be there—whether he would find her by his friend’s bedside?
    At last Northchester was reached. The station was a big, bustling junction; the actual scene of the accident was some little distance away, but the company had arranged for brakes to be in waiting to convey the friends of the victims as speedily as possible; and Roger, mentioning Courtenay’s name and his own profession, found himself treated with every consideration and speedily accorded a seat. It had not been possible to house all the injured at the hotel which was nearest to the railway, but Courtenay and those most seriously injured had been carried there and others more able to bear the journey were taken into the town of Northchester itself.
    Roger was shocked to find that the papers had rather under than overestimated his friend’s injuries; amputation of both legs had already taken place, and the injury to the spine was at present baffling the doctors.
    Near at hand, close to the scene of the accident, there stood a long, low, desolate-looking barn; towards it, across a rough, ploughed field, a constant stream of feet had in the last few hours trodden the path. Roger glanced at it mechanically. A goodly proportion of his fellow-travellers were making their way towards it in groups of twos and threes. Others were coming out. Lavington saw that two of them held handkerchiefs to their eyes. He looked once more at the dark, lonely outbuilding silhouetted against the grey sky, and understood. This then was his goal; this was where he must seek the solution of the doubts that had tormented him for the past few hours.
    There was little difficulty in obtaining admission Roger found the mere production of his card sufficient. Three of the dead were yet unidentified, he learned—an elderly man, a middle-aged woman, and a young girl. Seventeen had been killed outright, one had already been removed after the adjourned inquest held that morning, the others lay rigid and silent, on separate trestles, up the centre of the building.
    The attendant reverently turned back the cloths from their faces; two of them Roger passed unnoticed, his eyes turned to the third. Here the woman paused.
    â€œYou are prepared, I suppose, sir. The poor young thing’s head was caught against the woodwork and—”
    Roger’s eyes were fixed upon the form outlined long and stark beneath the sheet.
    â€œI am a doctor, my good woman,” he said impatiently.
    â€œI beg your pardon, sir.” The woman drew back the covering. Roger caught the gleam of golden hair upon the pillow, hair that might yesterday have been curled and waved, but that to-day was combed primly back and stiffly coiled. He bent forward.
    When he raised his head his face was ghastly white. He turned quickly away; the woman followed him.
    â€œThere is the dress she wore, sir. Maybe you might know that—dark-green it is. Poor thing, it will not bear thinking of. They say as she had something to do with the murder of that artist gentleman the other day, but it don’t seem to me likely. Why, she was little more than a child, as you may say.”
    As she spoke, she unlocked a heavy chest and brought out a green cloth coat and skirt. Recognizing the colour, Roger stepped forward, then his expression changed; he bent over the stained, dusty garments more closely.
    The woman watched him curiously.
    â€œCan you swear to them, sir?”
    Roger waited a minute, then he straightened himself, as if throwing some weight off his shoulders.
    â€œNo; I cannot say anything about them.”
    Outside in the clear, cool air, he