The Reader Is Warned

'Cold,' he said. 'All the same, somebody has been burnin' these candles. Both of'em. Look at the tops. Have you been burnin' 'em, Mrs Constable?'

'Good heavens, no!'

'Haven't been having any trouble with the lights, or anything?' 'No, certainly not.'

'But somebody's been burnin' 'em,' persisted H. M. 'Wouldn't you know ?'

'I'm afraid not. I haven't noticed anything, much.' She pressed her hands over her face. 'But does it tell you anything? Why does it matter?'

'Because it's rummy,' said H. M. 'It's the only rumm? or out-of-place thing in a smooth, ordered room and a smooth, ordered bit of dirty work. Somebody walks about with a pair of lighted candles in a place where there're already enough lights to equip Piccadilly Circus. And just outside this door a bloke throws a fit with nobody near him, and dies. Oh, my eye! And besides -'

Mina Constable showed a pale face of resolution.

'Have you finished, Sir Henry?'

'I'm afraid so. For now, anyhow.'

'I haven't finished,' said Mina, smiling her nervous and sympathetic smile. 'On the contrary, I am going to begin. I will show you. Will you come downstairs with me, please?'

Sanders had no idea what was on her mind. Neither, evidently, had H. M. In silence they went out and downstairs. Mina walked straight to the drawing-room, whose double doors were now wide open. Under a snaky-glowing chandelier Masters sat with his notebook on his knee, writing laboriously. Lawrence Chase watched him. Both looked up in surprise when Mina stalked in, but she paid no attention to them. On a table near the bay-windows was a telephone.

Taking it off the rest, she put it down on the table. Then, steadying her right wrist with the grip of her left hand, she began to spin the dial. There was a certain expression about her face.

'T-O-L,' spelled Mina with concentration. She picked up die phone again.

Masters jumped up from his chair.

'Excuse me,' he said. 'You're Mrs Constable, aren't you? Just so! Would you mind telling me what you're doing?'

'What's that?' inquired Mina, turning a bright and pleasant but determined face over her shoulder. She looked back again. 'Toll? I want to put through a call to London, please. This is Grovetop three-one. I want Central nine-eight-seven-six. Yes, please ... What did you say?'

Masters was beside her with remarkable strides.

'I asked what you were doing, Mrs Constable.'

'I'm ringing the Daily Non-Stop. I know the literary editor; I did some articles for them once. I don't know anybody else on the staff, but he can tell me whom I should speak to.

Excuse me ... Hello? Daily Non-Stop? May I speak to Mr Burton, please?'

'Half a tick,' said Masters grimly. He put down a large finger on the hook and cut off the connexion with a click. 'I'm sorry, Mrs Constable.'

Mina looked up.

'Do you mean to say,' she asked, 'that I can't put through a telephone call from my own house?'

'Of course you can, Mrs Constable. Of co-ourse,' beamed Masters, with windy heartiness and deprecation. 'Only -well, you know, wouldn't you rather see us, first? Eh? We're old hands at this. Maybe we could advise you. What did you want to tell them?'

Mina did not flare out at him. She looked wizened and not altogether attractive under that harsh light; her manner was detached, but she kept tight hold of the receiver and pressed it against her breast.

'You must be Chief Inspector Masters,' she said. 'Tell me. What is the worst insult you know ?'

'All! Hard to say, that,' said Masters wisely. 'If you're, thinking of applying it to me -'

'I was thinking of applying it to Herman Pennik.' She looked thoughtful. 'My husband always used to make him jump, on a certain subject. I wonder why ? But we can begin with Fake, capital F, and plain bounder.'

'If you'd just let me have that phone, Mrs Constable? ... A-ah! Thank you. There we are! Eh?

Mina let go. She looked round. There was perhaps nobody in that room who did not feel his heart contract with pity at the expression on her face.

'I've been through hell,' she said. 'For God's sake give me my little chance to hit back.'

Then her eyes overflowed.

The phone clinked and jingled as Masters fitted back the receiver in a vast silence. Through the tall open window in the bay, cool air stirred and drifted. ‘

'I know, ma'am, I know,' said Masters with hearty sympathy. 'But that's no way to do it, is it? I mean, you can't just ring up a newspaper and call a man names; now can you?'

'I don't propose to do that.' 'No?'

'No. So,' she went on in a very quiet voice, 'Mr Herman Pennik claims he can use thought as a weapon, does he? Silly little liar. You see, my husband was a fairly wealthy man. And I'm going to do what Sam would have wanted me to do. Sam, who was never afraid of anything or anybody in his life. All right: let the toad Pennik try out his weapon on me. I challenge him. That's what I wanted to tell Mr Burton. I'll call his bluff. Just let him try to kill me. If he can do it, everything I've got goes to any charity you want to name. But it won't. I'm simply calling his bluff and doing something for poor old Sam. And I warn you, I'll spread it over every newspaper in England, if it's the last thing I ever do in my life.'

Lawrence Chase took two steps forward.

'Mina,' he muttered, 'be careful what you're saying. I tell you, be careful!'

'Oh, rubbish.'

'I tell you, you don't know what you're saying.'

'And neither do you, sir, I'm afraid,' said Masters over his shoulder. 'Ladies and gentlemen!' He cleared his throat and brought his fist down on the telephone table. 'If you please! Steady, now. This is a lot of hysterics; now isn't it?'

In some fashion he managed a smile.

'Just so! And that's better, isn't it? Now, Mrs Constable,' he went on in soothing tones, 'why don't you just come over here and sit down nice and comfortable, eh? And we'll talk this whole thing out. Miss Keen is out there getting you some dinner,' - he nodded towards the closed doors to the dining-room, from behind which they could hear the homely rattle of crockery - 'and while she's getting it suppose we sit down and be sensible?'

'If you like,' agreed Mina cheerfully. 'I only say what I say. You can't keep me away from that telephone for ever, you know.'

Masters managed the parody of a wink.

'And I'll tell you another thing,' he confided. 'If you're worrying about this Mr Pennik: don't. You don't need to tell everybody he's a fake. We know it.'

Mina whirled round.

'Do you really mean that?'

'Lord love you, what do you think coppers are for ?' asked Masters. 'We know it right enough. In fact, we've just been proving it.'

Outside, in the sanded path beyond the open window, there was the stir of a footstep.

Sanders - who was nearest the window - heard it but did not look round. He heard it within a layer of his consciousness, only to be remembered afterwards. For he was too intent on the faces in the bright, ornate room, where the polished oak floor made their own footfalls drown out noises beyond the light.

'It's gone bust, Mrs Constable,' the chief inspector assured her. 'I'd offer you a little discount on miracles right now. Because why? Because we've just learned, from things Mr Chase has told us allied to what Miss Keen has told us, that on at least a couple of occasions our friend Mr Ruddy Pennik was pretending to read minds when he was only passing on information received.'

'I beg your pardon,' interrupted Chase with hot dignity. 'I'm not going to have my words twisted. I didn't say that. You chose to say it.'

'Choose your own terms, sir. I don't mind.'

'If I could believe that,' cried Mina. 'You mean that even his thought-reading was a fake?'

'It was, Mrs Constable,' agreed Masters comfortably. He glanced across at H. M., who throughout all this had said not a word. 'You should have been here, sir. Lummy, it was a treat!' Then Masters's face darkened. 'He gave me a real turn to-day, and I'm not denying it. Talking about my kid! Urr! I'll give him what I think about my kid, and her that's got to have an operation to-morrow! I'd still like to know where he got that little bit. But if you're worrying about