The Strange Story of Linda Lee by Dennis Wheatley Read Free Book Online Page B

Wing Commander. But her fears that he had agreed to accept her nominally as a relation only out of friendship for Rowley and might scarcely bother to hide a low opinion of her, proved groundless. When, two evenings later, they were introduced, he promptly kissed her on the cheek, then turned to Rowley with a laugh and cried:
    ‘By Jove, you old devil! How dare you keep it from me all these years that I had such a lovely cousin! She’s a corker!’
    Eric Dutton was in his early forties, so was ten years younger than Rowley. He was a tall, wiry, pale-faced man, with dark hair and ‘side-burns’ that came half-way down his cheeks. His swift speech frequently included the type of slang that had been popular with the Royal Air Force during the war, which rather intrigued Linda, as she had never met anyone like him. Dutton’s eyes were bright blue, and she sensed that even when he appeared to be disinterested, they missed nothing. His ready laugh and the easy way in which he talked to her as if he had known her for years she found very attractive.
    After dinner they had quite a little fun, making up the story that they would tell Elsie and Arthur Spilkin. Dutton opened the discussion by saying to Linda, ‘Look, coz. The first principle in putting over a deception is to stick as near the truth as possible, so you’d better put me in the picture about yourself.’
    When Linda had given a
précis
of her life before she had run away, he said, ‘My sister, Daphne Chatterton, and her husband, Ralph, have an igloo in Cheshire, andquite a sizable farm. The Spilkins have never met them and are unlikely to, so we had better transfer the Chattertons’ place to Lincolnshire, because you know the gen about those parts. Daphne’s older than I am. She’s hitting forty-eight by now, and her better half is a good bit longer in the tooth than she is. He was a Tank Corps wallah in the war, and got himself gonged with an M.C. In view of their age, you’d better be their daughter. That will make you my niece instead of my cousin. I’ve got photographs of them both I’ll let you have. All nice gels tote about the physogs of their parents and you can stick ’em up on your dressing table.’
    ‘Then in future she’ll be Linda Chatterton,’ Rowley commented. ‘What shall we say about her education?’
    ‘I leave that to you, chum. You could look up a school guide and pick some respectable but not too posh place in Lincolnshire. As Linda is only eighteen, she wouldn’t have got off the hockey field until fairly recently; only long enough to take a course in bashing the old typewriter and mastering the pothooks and hangers.’
    ‘I’ve been able to bash for quite a while,’ Linda told him, ‘but shorthand proved beyond me.’
    ‘No need to let on about that. In fact, the less you say about yourself, the less likely you are to be shot down. Now, how about hols? As you have never been abroad, you’d better have dipped in the briny at somewhere like Scarborough. You could say that your papa has a bungalow there, and that you went there every summer. Get all the leaflets about Scarborough that you can, and do a recce on them.’
    ‘Her parents would have had a car,’ said Rowley. ‘I suggest a Jaguar.’
    Eric nodded. ‘What did she do in her spare time?’
    ‘Reading,’ said Linda. ‘I’ve read scores of books in the past three months.’
    ‘Not enough for an Amazon like you, duckie.’
    She laughed. ‘You can add gardening. God knows I’ve done enough of that—and flower arrangements. I’ve never done much arranging, but I know a lot about flowers.’
    ‘Right. Now, why did you come to the great big wicked city?’
    ‘To get a job.’
    ‘No dice, chum. You could have got one nearer home. Tell you what, though. A broken romance. The feller jilted you. And, if I may say so, the more fool him.’
    For another half-hour they talked on, settling other details about Linda’s supposed past. Then, before Dutton left, he said