The Case of Naomi Clynes Read Free Page A

coroner when you ring him up. I’m going to inquire at the house-agent’s on my way to the station.”
    â€œThen you are not going to search the flat?”
    â€œNo, doctor. I’m going to take a statement from the charwoman, and then I shall have to ask for help from Central. You see my inspector is away on leave, and I’ve more on my hands than I can do without this case.”
    Annie James, the charwoman, knocked at the door. The doctor nodded good-bye to the sergeant and stumbled down the dark staircase. The woman entered the room timidly and shook with emotion at the sight of her late employer lying pallid and still on the couch.
    â€œPlease, sir, I’ve brought the sheet.”
    â€œThen help me to cover her up.”
    â€œOh, pore thing! Pore thing! It’s awful to think of her being took like that, and that I shall never hear her voice again. So kind, she was, to me.”
    â€œI want you to sit down there and answer my questions. Is your name Annie James?”
    â€œThat’s right, sir.”
    â€œAnd you used to do charing here for this lady, Miss Clynes?”
    â€œThat’s right, sir. I got to know of her through an agency. She wanted a lady’s help, and of course, knowing me as they did, they said, ‘You couldn’t do better than take Mrs. James—that is, of course, if she’s free to oblige you, and…’”
    â€œAnd she engaged you. How long ago was that?”
    â€œLet’s see: it must have been eleven or twelve weeks ago. I know it was ...”
    â€œDid you find her cheerful and happy?”
    â€œI wouldn’t go so far as to say that, sir. She would pass the time of day with you, but she was never what you might call chatty. Very reserved and quiet I’d call her.”
    â€œDid she ever talk to you about her friends?”
    â€œNo, sir, not a word. And another thing I thought funny. She never had anyone to tea—at least I never saw more than one cup and plate used in the flat. She seemed to spend all her time tapping on her typewriter. She was so busy at it that sometimes she didn’t seem to hear me when I spoke to her.”
    â€œShe had letters, I suppose?”
    â€œVery few that I know of, sir. Sometimes I used to see an envelope or two in the dustbin.”
    â€œDid she ever say what part of the country she came from?”
    â€œNo, sir. I did ask her once, but all I could get out of her was that she came somewhere from the north. She cut me quite short.”
    â€œBut she didn’t seem to you to be depressed—as if she had something on her mind?”
    â€œNo, sir. If she wasn’t talkative, it was just her way, I think. Some are born like that, aren’t they, sir?”
    â€œAnd so it was a great surprise to you this morning to find that she had taken her own life?”
    â€œYes, sir. I can’t tell you what a shock it’s been.”
    â€œThank you, Mrs. James. I have your address in case we shall want you again.”
    After calling on the house-agents in Lower Sloane Street, Sergeant Hammett took the Underground from Sloane Square to Westminster and sent in his name to the Chief Constable.
    He was standing in the Central Hall when a gentleman of middle age, who appeared to be in a hurry, was stopped by the constable on duty and asked to fill up a printed form stating his name and his business.
    â€œNonsense! Everybody knows what my business is. I’m the coroner for the South Western district, and I want to see the Assistant Commissioner of the C.I.D. at once.”
    â€œThen please put that on the form, sir.”
    â€œThis is quite new. I’ve never had to do this before.”
    â€œThose are the Commissioner’s orders, sir. You can put on the form that you are in a hurry, sir.”
    â€œOh, well, if those are your orders—there, but please see that the form goes to Mr. Morden at once. I’ve no time to waste.”
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