Walk with Care by Patricia Wentworth Read Free Book Online Page B

across those three fingers, she must have been standing where he was standing now, just across the threshold, drawing the door towards her. What had happened after that? Perhaps half a minute had gone by. And she was gone, leaving this bare emptiness.
    What had he seen?
    The hand with the torch fell to his side. He stood there frowning, and felt a faint cold go pringling down his spine. He made an impatient movement and looked down at the bright ring of light cast by the hanging torch. There was a little dust in the beam, and there was thick dust on the stone slabs which formed the floor. And right in the middle of the ring of light there was the mark of a small naked foot.

CHAPTER VI
    â€œCOLONEL GARRETT—” ANNOUNCED MRS Denny’s maid.
    Rosalind put down her book and came to meet him.
    â€œHow nice of you, Frank!” she said.
    Garrett grunted.
    â€œHope you’ll say as much when I’ve got through!”
    She laughed.
    â€œThat sounds—are you trying to frighten me? I thought this was going to be a nice cousinly visit.”
    â€œI haven’t time for cousinly visits,” said Garrett. He jerked a crooked tie crookeder and frowned horribly at the pleasant room.
    Rosalind Denny had been fortunate. Furnished flats and furnished houses are usually crowded, and seldom take kindly to one’s own belongings. This was an exception. It had plain walls and a plain neutral-coloured carpet. There were comfortable chairs. There was a walnut tallboy, and an old knee-hole writing-table. There had been very little else. Rosalind’s Rockingham candlesticks and her apple-green Bristol glass fitted in very happily. One of the Bristol bowls held anemones—violet, white, rose, and dusky crimson. Their stamens were all sooty like little chimney-sweeps’ brushes. Rosalind wore a soft grey jumper and skirt, and a row of violet and crystal beads.
    Garrett frowned impartially at her and at the room.
    â€œFrank dear—how alarming! You’re very mysterious. Don’t you think we might sit?”
    She took a sofa corner herself, the one nearest the brightly burning fire, and pointed him to the other.
    â€œAnd now—” she said.
    He threw himself back against the green and silver cushions, an incongruous figure in a baggy suit of violent check. His maltreated tie was of a horrid shade of brick. He wore green socks and new yellow shoes.
    â€œThe fact is, I don’t like my job.”
    â€œAlways—or just to-day?”
    Garrett grinned suddenly.
    â€œYou’ve got there! I hate stupid people. Most women are stupid—they think too much about themselves.” He relapsed into gloom again. “Fact is, I’ve come here to ask you a lot of questions.”
    â€œWhy should you mind that?” said Rosalind gently. She picked up a bright green hand-screen and held it between her and the fire.
    â€œI’ve got to rake up all that business about Gilbert,” said Garrett at his jerkiest.
    Rosalind turned a little paler. She said,
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI can’t tell you why—at least not in detail. I can tell you as much as this—there’s a question of someone else being involved in the same way.”
    Rosalind moved the green screen slowly to and fro.
    â€œYou can ask me anything you like,” she said. Then suddenly the colour came into her face. “You say someone else may be ‘involved.’ What do you mean? I told you Gilbert was murdered, and you wouldn’t believe me. Now you say someone else may be ‘involved’ in the same way. Do you mean murdered?”
    Garrett came bolt upright.
    â€œNo, I don’t. For the Lord’s sake don’t get off on to that tack! Now look here—I don’t like this, but I’ve got to do it. Let’s get on with it. I want to ask my questions, and I want you to answer them and keep to the point.”
    Rosalind’s left hand clenched on itself. The colour