The Riddle of the River by Catherine Shaw Page B

bracelet.
    ‘What happened is that, as soon as I saw the dead girl’s Chinese bracelet in your office, I believed it might have been sold at Robert Sayle’s,’ I finally chose to say. ‘They had a whole collection of such items for sale a week or two ago. I enquired with the girl who sells them, and she remembered the bracelet quite well. She said it was one of a kind, for most of the other bracelets in that lot of imports were carved ivory bangles, whereas this one was a string of intricate beads.’
    ‘She recognised the bracelet from a description?’ he asked, eyeing me sharply.
    ‘No, Vanessa showed her the bracelet,’ intervened Pat, rescuing me. ‘I – ah, borrowed it temporarily. Did you notice it was missing?’
    ‘I did,’ said Fred. ‘It didn’t occur to me it might be you who took it, you rascal. I couldn’t think where it had got to. But then I found it again – oh, I see, you actually put it back when you came by the other day! Now I know why you asked to see the girl’s things again.’ He glared at Pat. ‘You made off with Crown’s evidence, Pat. That’s very bad; I’m astounded at you. Believe me, this is the last time I’ll show you anything in my office.’
    ‘But it was useful, Fred! It was in a good cause,’ said Pat. ‘You see, as soon as Vanessa took a look at the bracelet, I saw the cogs in her brain begin whizzing like mad. So I knew that she needed it.’
    ‘You should have told me that right away,’ he said.
    ‘But I wasn’t certain,’ I answered quickly. I was about to add that I had never suggested Pat steal it for me, but decided this was too childish and that my share of the blame must be accepted with no moral detours.
    ‘That doesn’t matter. The right thing to do was to tell me then and there,’ he said severely, then relaxed somewhat. ‘Well, all’s well that end’s well. Go on. Let’s hear your story.’
    ‘All right’, I said meekly. ‘So, as I was saying, the girl remembered selling the bracelet to a man who was accompanied by the dead girl. She identified her from the photograph you gave me. But the main thing is that she actually recognised the man as a person who passes fairly regularly in the street in front of the shop. She promised to write to me the next time she should see him, and she did so. She had managed to slip away from her counter for a few minutes, and followed him as far as Petty Cury, where she saw him go into Heffers bookshop and enter into conversation with the clerk there. I then spoke with the same clerk, and discovered that the person in question is apparently none other than the clerk’s own father, a gentleman by the name of Geoffrey Archer. He lives towards Grantchester, in a manor called Chippendale House. The girl from Robert Sayle’s confirmed the identification of Mr Archer as the gentleman who bought the bracelet, accompanied by the dead girl, whom she identified from the photograph. That’s all I’ve been able to find out up to now. But you will probably be able to get the girl’s identity from Mr Archer directly.’
    The inspector had drawn a pad towards him and was writing busily.
    ‘We thought we’d come to you with this,’ said Pat, wiselysuppressing all mention of his unsuccessful interview attempt. I supposed that he felt that the inspector would view that as a piece of clumsy interference.
    ‘I’ll see him tomorrow,’ he said. ‘If this turns out to be correct, it’s going to be very useful. I’m grateful for your help. Now, listen to me,’ he added, fixing me with a look of authority. ‘Don’t you go meddling in this business any further. You must realise that it may be dangerous. The girl was murdered, and any person you encounter while meddling around might be the murderer. You realise, don’t you, that you can’t be allowed to take that risk. This absolutely and completely goes for you, too, Pat. Out of it. Right?’
    ‘It’s our meddling that brought you this key information,’