Death of an Airman by Christopher St. John Sprigg Page B

think of the idea?”
    â€œStinking!” retorted Lady Laura coldly. “It means having thousands of people tramping all over the aerodrome, and flying will be dislocated for the day, and there’s always a dozen or so drunks left over in the bar one doesn’t know what to do with. I know these shows.”
    â€œYou’re always so witty, dear!” said Lady Crumbles, who was not to be put off by a Lady Laura. “Of course you won’t refuse to take part in the concours d’elegance ?”
    â€œNo. I shan’t. Not if there’s a decent prize. The last prize I won at a concours d’elegance was in the Brighton Hospital Motor Rally. It was supposed to be a silver cup, but when I took it home I found it was only electro-plate.”
    â€œ I presented the prizes at the Brighton Hospital Motor Rally,” said Lady Crumbles icily. Hallam gave a gurgle which he changed into a cough as Lady Crumbles’ eye fell upon him.
    â€œI’m so sorry! Did you really? How frightfully tactless of me!” said Lady Laura indifferently. “Well, anyway, see that the Press are looked after at this show, whatever happens. So long!”
    â€œI really cannot see what people find to admire in that girl,” complained Lady Crumbles. “Look at her! As thin as a rake, and absolutely no distinction of manner at all. How she manages to run an aeroplane and a car I don’t know, for the Vanguards always were as poor as church mice. However, perhaps it would be more charitable not to enquire.”
    Meanwhile, on the retirement of the Executive Committee, Miss Sackbut had walked sadly out on to the flying field to take the Bishop for his lesson. He ventured to comment on her abysmal gloom.
    â€œI really begin to wonder whether I’m cut out for this kind of thing,” said Sally, explaining it. “First of all poor Furnace, and then this Crumbles visitation. The club is getting out of hand, that’s the truth. I can’t control it.”
    â€œCome, come, now. You can’t be blamed for poor Furnace’s death.”
    Sally transfixed him with a perceptive stare.
    â€œCan’t I? I don’t put it beyond Inspector Creighton. He’s been drifting into my office asking me questions altogether too often for it to be accidental.”
    The Bishop, too well aware of the truth of this, became a little agitated. “Miss Sackbut, can’t you help at all? I mean, you must see now that things have gone too far to stop them, even for Furnace’s sake. There was a mystery in his death, and it has got to be solved by the police wherever the solution leads. You know the actors in the drama. Can’t you possibly think of anything that will throw light on it? Anything in Furnace’s previous life, for instance?”
    Sally looked at him frankly. “The truth is, Bishop, I hardly dare. During the last two years I have had the sensation that something queer was going on in this aerodrome. It was the change in Furnace that made me notice it most. He was always secretive, certainly, but during the few months before his death it was something out of the ordinary even for him. Something was worrying him badly, I knew. That was bad enough, but it isn’t only that. It’s a silly feeling I used to have that there was something a little mysterious going on here. You know when you walk into a room and people stop talking suddenly, and you think they are talking about you? That sort of atmosphere. And queer little incidents which meant nothing separately, but were queer because they happened so often. There’s never been anything one could take hold of, you understand, until Furnace’s death. And even that looked a pure accident on the surface. But when you went into it, you see, we found it wasn’t an accident, but something dreadful. And ever since I’ve been wondering if something dreadful has been going on below the surface with those other