The Beckoning Lady Read Free Page A

complete explanation. “Potter’s Hall has been utterly transformed now that so much work has been done on it. If you’d care to see it while you’re down here I’m sure Mr. Genappe wouldn’t mind.”
    â€œHas
he
seen it?”
    â€œNot since the alterations. Mr. Genappe is out of England, naturally,”
    Mr. Campion hesitated. This was all very well in its chatty way, but what exactly the good lady thought she was doing fiddling about with Uncle William’s obsequies remained obscure. He indicated the expanse of granite and marble, the ancient crosses and the modern bird-baths.
    â€œHave you taken over this too?”
    She considered him for a full second and decided it was a joke.
    â€œNot yet,” she laughed, entering into the jolly spirit of the thing. “We merely pay for it, I expect, through the rates. No, I’m just doing this to help Mrs. Cassands. I always do what I can for her. I’m sure Mr. Genappe would approve of it. She’s always very busy with her houseand her painting, so I’m saving her the walk. I’m like that, everyone’s dogsbody.” She shook her neat head. “I can’t think why Mrs. Cassands works so hard at her pictures, but with that extraordinary husband never there I suppose—”
    â€œShe’s an A.R.A.” protested Mr. Campion mildly, giving the institution its due.
    â€œOh I know. And Mr. Genappe not only likes her work but has been assured by experts that it’s quite sound and may even appreciate. We’ve bought several canvases as a matter of fact, from Fang’s in Bond Street, but I do think it’s very hard work for her. She never scamps anything. Frankly I wonder that Mr. Cassands doesn’t live more at home instead of flitting in and out wasting his time on idiotic things. That so-called musical instrument of his—well really!”
    The thin man chuckled reminiscently, as did most people now that the brief scarifying popularity of the inspired noise-maker which Tonker Cassands had achieved had faded decently into the shadow of jokes-over. The name was so beautiful. ‘
Turn tee tee, turn tee turn—ON my Glü-bal-ü-bal-um!
’
    â€œDon’t!” Miss Pinkerton dropped her scissors and clapped her hands over her ears. “Please don’t. You know what happens. One goes on humming it all day and it’s so
silly
. Really, that winter when everyone was doing it drove me nearly mad. Horrid vulgar thing! It looked so dreadful.”
    â€œI don’t know.” Campion wondered idly if there was anything else she could mention which would inspire him immediately to defend it. “One has to put an arm through many of the wind instruments. In this, one merely had to add a leg, that was all.”
    â€œIt wasn’t only that.” She was fluttering with irritation. “There was all that transparent plastic showing the different sized bladders inside. Frightful! And the noise! How he got paid for such a stupid thing I do not know.”
    â€œYet it raked in quite a packet, and it’s having quite avogue in Bongoland now I believe.” It seemed as good an exit line as any and Campion was wandering away when she recalled him once more.
    â€œThey tell me your visitor has returned.”
    Since he merely stared she made it easier for him.
    â€œThe Chief Inspector, tall, quite good-looking. He’s been at the Mill for some little time, recovering from the wounds he got in the Caroline Street raid. He left just before the funeral.”
    â€œSo he did.”
    â€œBut now he’s come back?”
    â€œYes.”
    There was a pause while she regarded him severely. “I hope you don’t think I’m inquisitive.”
    â€œGood heavens no, that’s the last thing I should think about you,” said Mr. Campion, and he hurried off out of the churchyard and down the road to the heath.

Chapter 2
LOVE AND MONEY
I
    WHILST