Nothing Like Blood by Leo Bruce Page B

her.
    She smiled broadly. “I know. We must all seem rather peculiar to you. I want to tell you something.”
    Looking at her I realized that there was something very ruthless about this young woman. I felt it had cost her a great effort to come to me, but that it was part of a course of action on which she was utterly determined. “Before you do so,” I said gently, “may I ask why you should have chosen me? There must surely be someone you know better in whom you can confide.”
    â€œThat’s just it,” she said. “They were all here. They are all concerned in this thing, and you are not.”
    â€œThey weren’t all here,” I pointed out. “Why don’t you go to Christine Derosse? She has just arrived and I’m sure she’s more able to cope with things than I am.”
    She shook her head vigorously. “Oh no! “she said. “She doesn’t like me and I wouldn’t trust her. Besides,it is not after all very much that I want to ask you. Just to look after something for me for a few days.”
    â€œSomething?”
    â€œWell, an envelope.”
    â€œAn empty envelope?”
    â€œOf course not, Mrs Gort.” She could smile charmingly when she liked. “It has a … paper in it.”
    â€œA letter?”
    â€œA sort of letter.”
    â€œBut, my dear girl, why on earth don’t you put it in your bank for safe keeping? Even with all the safe-blowing and bank raids we’re having nowadays, surely a bank is the safest place for a valuable document?”
    â€œThere are two reasons, as a matter of fact. But the chief one is that I need this document here in the house.”
    â€œThen hide it in your room.”
    â€œI have. But I never feel it’s safe. My room’s been searched twice.”
    â€œYou may be surprised to know that my room has been searched, too.”
    â€˜Surprised’ was mild. She positively goggled at me. “Yours? But why?”
    â€œI supposed that it was because I foolishly admitted keeping a diary.”
    She stared at me, seeming to consider this. “Was your diary taken?”
    â€œNo. But it may have been read. I’ve had a Yale lock put on the door now.”
    â€œThen
do
take this—if it’s only for tonight.” She opened her bag and was about to take out a thickly sealed envelope. But as she did so I was able to observe that her bag held two of these and they looked identical.
    â€œWhy tonight?” I asked firmly.
    â€œBecause … Oh, I don’t know. I have a feeling …”
    â€œYou know, Miss Reid, what you are asking me is quiteimpossible. I couldn’t look after a document the nature of which I don’t know. And you admit that someone wants to get hold of it.”
    She was evidently determined to try everything. Tears were in her large eyes. “I thought you would help me.”
    â€œHow can I when I don’t know what I am helping you to do? Let’s be frank and say what it
looks
like.”
    â€œWhat does it look like?”
    â€œBlackmail,” I said, and let the word hang in the air.
    She grew neither indignant nor hysterical. “You mean you think this document contains evidence against someone?”
    â€œCould be,” I said relentlessly.
    â€œPerhaps you think it contains evidence that Lydia Mallister was murdered? “There was a strange, rather dangerous calm in her voice now.
    â€œLook at it from my point of view. Remember what I have seen and heard in this house about Lydia Mallister’s death. It’s not an unreasonable conclusion to draw, is it?”
    â€œMrs Gort, I swear it isn’t that. You must believe me. The envelope I ask you to keep contains a document, yes, but it contains no evidence that Lydia Mallister was murdered.”
    â€œYou promise that?”
    â€œI’ll swear to it. Oh, please keep this for me.”
    For a moment I hesitated, then fortunately