The Hidden Man by Robin Blake Read Free Book Online

indication that he might try to end his life?’
    She shook her head, as she wound the hair around her forefinger.
    â€˜Not that I observed, or heard.’
    â€˜Had he been worried or anxious? Melancholy? Had his manner shown any change?’
    She let go of the hair and straightened her back a fraction.
    â€˜Not towards me, Mr Cragg. Not towards me.’
    In repeating the phrase her voice sounded a new expressive note – with just the slightest hint of bitterness. I leaned towards her, shamelessly performing a familiar lawyer’s courtroom trick to indicate my friendly concern.
    â€˜Go on, Miss Peel.’
    My trick did not work. She stiffened again, then rose from her chair.
    â€˜All this is a great shock, Sir, and I am quite nonplussed.’
    â€˜Of course you are,’ I said, also standing up. ‘This is not the time. I’ll leave you now, and return tomorrow when I hope you will have composed yourself. Will that be convenient?’
    â€˜I suppose you must. I shall expect you.’
    â€˜I just need to know one more thing now, if you can help me. Did Mr Pimbo spend last night here?’
    â€˜He supped here and was still here late in the evening when I retired.’
    â€˜When did he leave this morning?’
    â€˜I did not see him. I expect he left at daybreak. He often did in summer, with the early sunrise.’
    â€˜He would walk to Preston?’
    â€˜He would.’
    â€˜And was his dog with him?’
    â€˜Suez was always with him.’
    â€˜Thank you.’
    I stooped to pick up my hat, which had fallen to the floor, and involuntarily brushed against her injured arm, causing her to give a sharp cry of pain. I began to apologize, until she asked me not to.
    â€˜As you can see, I have hurt my arm, but it is nothing really.’
    â€˜How long have you been in pain?’
    â€˜For two weeks, no more. A burn.’
    â€˜That is long enough for a burn to heal, in the normal way. It should not still be hurting you. What does your physician say?’
    â€˜Oh, I haven’t seen one. It will heal in time.’
    â€˜It may, but you should consult a doctor.’
    Without further mention of the injury she conducted me to the front hall and I stepped out under the porch. As I turned to give her goodbye, she stayed me, her lips forming into something, but not exactly, like a smile.
    â€˜Mr Cragg, your profession makes you experienced in these things. What must be done with my employer? With his body, I mean. If I do not make the necessary arrangements, whatever they may be, I don’t know who will.’
    â€˜Only the funeral arrangements need concern you, Miss Peel. I suggest you speak to your vicar, but you will not be able to bury Mr Pimbo until I have held an inquest.’
    â€˜And in the meantime, what of the body?’
    â€˜Under most normal circumstances it would come to lie in his own house, but in this case it must remain in Preston until the inquest.’
    â€˜When will that be, Mr Cragg?’
    â€˜In a few days, no more.’
    I settled my hat on my head.
    â€˜Until tomorrow, Miss Peel. And, if I may, I shall bring my friend Dr Fidelis to look at that arm.’
    *   *   *
    As I reached Town Moor I reflected on the several things about Pimbo and his family that I had learned. Mr Phillip Pimbo had held quite advanced ideas about housebuilding and decoration. Mrs Pimbo had lost her mind. The little maid was new. But the housekeeper, even superficially, was less easy to read. Miss Peel’s first words on hearing of the death of the master of the house were to ask if he had killed himself. Then she had sharply given up the thought when I did not immediately confirm it. And her reply to my question about a possible change to his behaviour: ‘not towards me!’ That surely meant something too.
    I had reached the Town Moor and was half way across it when I remembered the strong room key. I had quite