The White Cottage Mystery Read Free

I’ll send for you again later. Oh, by the way – just one thing. How many other servants are there over at the “Dene” beside you?’
    â€˜Only the cook,’ said the man, hesitating in the doorway. ‘Nice old party she is, by name of Fisher, Mrs Elsie Fisher.’
    â€˜I see. There were only you three living at the “Dene”, then.’
    â€˜Yes, sir, only us three and Mr Cellini.’
    The detective pricked up his ears.
    â€˜Mr Cellini?’ he inquired. ‘Who’s he?’
    â€˜The Italian chap what lived with the guv’nor.’
    â€˜His companion?’
    â€˜Something of that sort.’
    â€˜I see. And this man is an Italian. Was he on equal footing with your master? I mean was he in the position of a friend?’
    â€˜Oh no, they weren’t
friends
.’
    There was the ghost of a smile on the old lag’s face, and the detective glanced at him sharply.
    â€˜What do you mean by that?’ he demanded.
    Clarry Gale sneered.
    â€˜â€™E ’adn’t no
friends,
’ he said. ‘Mr Cellini felt the same towards ’im as most of us, I reckon.’
    â€˜And how was that?’
    â€˜â€™E ‘ated ’im!’
    There was an almost ferocious intensity in the man’s voice, and the detective sat back in his chair.
    â€˜You yourself, of course, have a pretty strong alibi, I suppose, Gale?’ he said.
    â€˜Me? I been with Mrs Fisher in the kitchen ever since lunch.’
    A faint smile appeared on the detective’s face.
    â€˜So I imagined,’ he said. ‘If you hadn’t your animosity towards your late employer might have been misunderstood. However – where is Mr Cellini now?’
    â€˜Over in his room, I expec’. ’E spends most of ’is time in there when ’e can get away from the guv’nor.’
    â€˜You didn’t see him before you came out?’
    â€˜No, I ain’t set eyes on him all the arternoon.’
    â€˜Very well; that’ll do for the present; but go over to the “Dene” and ask Mr Cellini to come across as I’d like to speak to him. Oh, and Gale – don’t say anything to Mrs Fisher when you’re there. Just come straight back with Cellini.’
    â€˜Righto, sir.’
    On the last word the man turned and disappeared from the room with as much alacrity as ever a discharged offender stepped from the dock.
    As the door closed behind him, W.T. took a deep breath.
    â€˜That was curious,’ he said. ‘That man was one of the most incorrigible old rogues on the books fifteen years ago. We’d lost sight of him, and now he turns up here with ten years’employment behind him, a murdered master, and an alibi. I think the next person to interview is Mrs Christensen.’
    The detective rose from his chair as the door opened and Mrs Christensen and the constable came in.
    Jerry recognized her as the woman who had screamed to the policeman not to go to the murdered man when they were all in the hall.
    Grace Christensen was very pale and there were dark hollows under her eyes. She seemed much more composed now, however, and took the chair the detective set for her with a certain dignity.
    W.T. fussed round her in a way that was peculiarly his own, behaving more like an old family doctor than a detective on a murder trail.
    â€˜Now,’ he said at last when he had satisfied himself that she was comfortable and entirely at her ease, ‘I don’t wish to distress you, Mrs Christensen, but it would be of great assistance to me if you would tell just exactly what happened this afternoon. Don’t hurry or excite yourself in any way; let us have the facts.’
    The woman raised her eyes to his and spoke very softly.
    â€˜I was in the garden,’ she said, ‘weeding round the far side of the house; my baby was with me. I noticed a storm coming up, and I gathered up my tools, preparing to go in. I had just