Unexpected Night by Elizabeth Daly Read Free Book Online

large manila envelope as if it were a tea tray.
    â€œState policeman just brought it,” he said, and backed out, more solemn than ever. Mitchell said: “I will say they were pretty quick, over there. Not so bad, for the Centre.” He took out a photograph, glanced at it, handed it to Gamadge, and busied himself with a typewritten report.
    The picture showed a figure that looked merely like garments, carelessly flung down, so insignificant was it, spread-eagled below towering rocks. A Panama hat lay near it, and its tweed topcoat was twisted away from one shoulder, as if torn off in the fall. The body lay face down; there were no injuries to be seen on the back of the head; but the upper half of the face was a black smear.
    Gamadge looked at it, turned it this way and that, and studied it from all angles. Then he handed it to Mitchell.
    â€œTake it away,” he said. “I don’t like it.”
    â€œYou can imagine how the little feller that found it felt. Those gypsies are hard-boiled characters, even the children; but when he got hold of the beach cleaners, this Stanley boy was crying.”
    â€œI feel like crying myself.”
    â€œHere’s the list of what young Cowden had in his pockets. No papers, except that cheque book, and a bill or two. They sent the cheque book; here it is.”
    â€œMust I handle it by the edges, too?”
    â€œNo, I got that printed. No prints on it but his.”
    Gamadge opened it, and unfolded the signed cheque, which had not been torn out; unless opened, it resembled all the blank ones. He studied it, while Mitchell continued:
    â€œNo driving licence, of course. A wallet with some stamps and thirty-four dollars in cash. Handkerchief. Pair of chamois gloves, rolled up. Little bottle of medicine—iodide of potassium. He had a wrist watch on, unbreakable glass, but it was under him, and it was smashed. Stopped at 2.9.”
    â€œWhich is when he died?”
    â€œFar as anybody can tell. He was out in the cold and wet for all those hours. The spray reaches that place, when the tide’s high. It was going out at two, but it was still high enough to soak him. Then there was his physical condition, and nothing solid in his stomach since he had dinner at Portsmouth. Two-nine suits the medical examiner all right.”
    Mitchell replaced the list in the envelope, added the photograph, rose, and approached the table. He opened the lid of the pigskin dressing case, and then paused to wind a handkerchief around his right hand. A multitude of glass and silver objects winked against a rich dark-green silk lining; Gamadge came up to watch, while Mitchell began carefully to remove them one by one. They were so cunningly fitted that it was a task of some delicacy to get them out of their individual nests.
    â€œQuite a bag,” remarked Gamadge.
    â€œHow much would you say a thing like this was worth?” asked Mitchell.
    â€œI hardly know. Where does it come from?”
    Mitchell turned a flat tooth-paste container upside down, and said: “Tomlinson, Piccadilly.”
    â€œWhere the good bags come from. Say five hundred dollars.”
    â€œMy goodness.”
    â€œDid you see the famous cigarette case? That might have cost almost as much.”
    â€œThe young feller didn’t stint himself.”
    â€œHe had so few toys, Mitchell. My own little car cost more than that bag, and nobody thinks it was an extravagance. He couldn’t drive a car.”
    â€œYou certainly liked that boy.”
    â€œI was dammed sorry for him. He must have known that it was to everybody’s interest to keep him going until he was twenty-one.”
    â€œThat’s putting it strong. You might say, if you wanted to talk like that, that it was to his sister’s interest to have him die as soon afterwards as possible.”
    â€œAnd to the interest of all the people benefiting by that will you’re hunting for.”
    Mitchell took out a