The Silk Stocking Murders Read Free Page B

Why did Janet not sign that note? The omission is more than significant; it is unnatural. To sign such a note as that, or at the least to initial it, is almost a
sine qua non.
There seems no obvious explanation of this, except, possibly, frantic panic.
    “(5) What do we know of Janet? That she was a young woman of considerable character and determination. Young women of considerable determination do not commit suicide. Moreover, allowing for a father’s prejudice, her photograph shows clearly that Janet was not a suicidal type. Once more one is driven to the conclusion that events of enormous importance have not yet come to light.
    “(6) Janet hanged herself with her own stocking. In the name of goodness, why? Had she nothing more suitable? In fact, Janet’s method of suicide is more than strange; it is unnatural. A girl bent on suicide would adopt hanging as a very last resource. Men hang themselves; girls don’t. Yet Janet did. Why?
    “(7) Is Roger Sheringham seeing visions? No, he isn’t. Then what is he going to do about it?—Jolly well find out what had really been happening to that poor kid!”
    Roger put down his pen and read through what he had written.
    “Results tabulated,” he murmured. “And where do they lead us, eh? Why, to Miss Moira Carruthers, to be sure.”
    He put on his hat and hurried out.

CHAPTER III

MISS CARRUTHERS IS DRAMATIC
    I T was with no definite plan in his mind, or even suspicion, that Roger jumped into a taxi and caused himself to be conveyed to Sutherland Avenue. All he knew was that here was mystery; and where mystery was, there something in his blood raised Roger’s curiosity to such a point that nothing less than complete elucidation could lower it. The affairs of Janet Manners had, he acknowledged readily, nothing whatever to do with himself, and it was very probable that their owner, had she been alive, would very much have resented the poking of his nose into them. He appeased his conscience (or what served him on these occasions for a conscience) by pretending that his real object in making the journey was to acquire positive proof that Unity Ransome really was Janet Manners before he wrote to Dorsetshire. He did not deceive himself for a moment.
    His taxi stopped before one of those tall, depressed-looking buildings which line Sutherland Avenue, and a tiny brass plate on the door-post informed that Miss Carruthers lived on the fourth floor. There was no lift, and Roger trudged up, to find, with better luck than he deserved, that Miss Carruthers was at home. Indeed, she popped out of a room at him as he reached the top of the stairs, for the flat had no front-door of its own.
    Chorus-girls (or chorus ladies, as they call themselves nowadays) are divided into three types, the pert, the pretty and the proud, and of these the last are quite the most fell of all created beings. Roger was relieved to see that Miss Carruthers, with her very golden hair and her round, babyish face, was quite definitely of the pretty type, and therefore not to be feared.
    “Oh!” said Miss Carruthers prettily, and looked at him in dainty alarm. Strange men on her stairs were, it was to be gathered, one of the most terrifying phenomena in Miss Carruthers’ helpless young life.
    “Good afternoon,” said Roger, suiting his smile to his company. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you spare me a few minutes, Miss Carruthers?”
    “Oh!” fluttered Miss Carruthers again. “Was it—was it very, important?”
    “I am connected with
The Daily Courier,”
said Roger.
    “Come inside,” said Miss Carruthers.
    They passed into a sitting-room, the furniture of which was only too evidently supplied with the room. Roger was ensconced in a worn armchair, Miss Carruthers perched charmingly on the arm of an ancient couch. “Yes?” sighed Miss Carruthers.
    Roger came to the point at once. “It’s about Miss Ransome,” he said bluntly.
    “Oh!” said Miss Carruthers, valiantly concealing her