Wicked Uncle by Patricia Wentworth Read Free Book Online Page A

handkerchiefs, and ribbon.
    The shopwalker said something, but it didn’t reach Dorinda. She stood looking at the silk stockings, the handkerchiefs, the trailing ribbons, whilst the bright angry colour in her cheeks drained away until it was all gone. Then she stepped forward and put all the things down on the table and felt again in the pockets of her coat. There was one more pair of stockings, and the mimosa spray which she had thought would look so nice on the lapel of her coat. She put it down with the other things and said steadily,
    “I don’t know how these things got into my pockets.”
    The manager looked at her in a way that made her Scottish blood boil.
    “Oh, you don’t, don’t you? Well, I think we can make a pretty good guess. We shall charge you with shoplifting. And if this lady will kindly give us her address, we can call her as a witness. Perhaps you won’t mind saying what you saw, madam.”
    Miss Silver drew herself up.
    “I have come here to do so. After completing a purchase I was waiting for my parcel and the change, when I saw this lady standing looking at the display of glass flowers and necklets at the corner leading to the millinery department. She seemed to be admiring that little bunch of mimosa, and I thought perhaps she was going to buy it. It would certainly have looked very well upon her coat. She was just about to turn away, when a number of people came from the direction of the stocking counter. I do not know whether they were all in one party. By the time they reached her this lady had moved away from the place where she had been. I should like to state quite definitely that the mimosa spray was still in its place when she had moved at least a yard away from it and was heading in the opposite direction. There were two young women in the party from the stocking counter. They closed up on either side of this lady. By this time there were quite a number of people coming and going between the departments. Sometimes they were between me and the two young women, and sometimes they were not. I am prepared to swear that this lady never turned back, and that she could not possibly have taken the mimosa spray. I was interested in her, and there was never a time when I could not see at least the top of her head. She could not have reached the mimosa spray from where she was, and she did not turn back. That is the first point. The second one is this. As the people moved on, there were naturally gaps between them. Through one such gap I saw one of the two young women I have mentioned in the act of withdrawing her hand from this lady’s coat pocket. At this moment the attendant at the wool stall offered me my parcel and the change I had been waiting for. I saw the young woman say something to an assistant behind the counter and hurry away. By the time I had taken my parcel there were a good many people between us. When I arrived at the counter both young women had disappeared and the assistant was making a somewhat agitated communication to the shopwalker. I noticed that the mimosa spray was gone. When I saw the shopwalker address this lady, who was by then approaching the handkerchief counter, I realized that my evidence would be required and decided to follow them.”
    The manager was leaning back in his chair. He said in a sceptical voice,
    “You say you saw a young woman put her hand into this girl’s pocket?”
    Miss Silver coughed in a hortatory manner.
    “I stated that I saw her in the act of withdrawing her hand from this lady’s pocket. I am perfectly prepared to swear to what I saw.”
    The manager raised his eyebrows.
    “Very convenient for the young woman, I am sure. Quite a good idea, if you’re going shoplifting, to have someone handy to swear you couldn’t have done it.”
    Miss Silver turned upon him the look before which the hardiest of her pupils had been wont to quail. It was a look which had daunted the evil-doer on many an occasion. Since then Chief Detective Inspector