Dread Murder by Gwendoline Butler Page A

not apologise — just went on smiling as if nothing had happened.
    The Major stopped frowning and gave a small grin. There was no doubt that Charlie knew how to look after himself.
    By the time they reached the Major’s set of rooms, the tray had arrived and been surveyed by Sergeant Denny with satisfaction. He gave Charlie a nod, but spoke to Mearns.
    â€˜They do us well.’
    Mearns flicked his eyes towards Charlie. ‘I think we owe some of the riches to Charlie here.’
    â€˜Oh aye; they’d eat him alive down there, some of ’em.’
    â€˜Frenchmen,’ said Charlie with decision. ‘Any Englishman can beat two of them. Can I have one of those pies?’
    The careful Denny held out a plate. ‘Just the one.’
    While he ate his carefully selected pie, crisp and brown, Charlie looked round the room. It was not large, but it was cosy – a favourite word with Charlie, and a quality he prized. In the middle of the room stood a large, well-polished, dark oak table of some age. A smaller table was in the window recess. Pens and paper indicated it was used by the Major for writing on,
although what writing he did was, as yet, a mystery to Charlie. Four dark oak upright chairs to match the centre table stood about the room. One big leather armchair with a matching footstool was near the window, looking out. Charlie instinctively admired it all, but the Major was oblivious, not knowing and not caring that he was using a table at which George I had eaten his breakfast. The Castle was filled with such treasures owing to the magpie hoarders of the Hanoverian House. The more fashionable and delicate mahogany had swept away the solid oak from the Royal suites – but not out of the Castle.
    â€˜There was blood in the Theatre. They found it.’ Charlie’s tongue was loosened by the delicious pie, which gave him a mood of ease and hope.
    There was a moment of silence. Denny looked at the Major’s face.
    â€˜How do you know that?’ he asked, speaking for the Major, in whose face he could see knowledge of the blood.
    â€˜Yes,’ said Mearns, his voice stern. ‘How do you know that, my boy?’
    Charlie considered; should he tell the two men about Spike and the dog? Caution won. Wait and see what happened, he argued to himself.
    â€˜I listened at a window.’
    â€˜I don’t shout,’ declared the Major.
    Charlie smiled, then spoke the truth, which was handy for him. ‘You’re a bit deaf, Sir …’
    He turned towards Sergeant Denny. ‘Ask your friend.’
The Major turned to Denny who hung his head and muttered something.
    â€˜All right, so it’s true,’ said the Major to Charlie. ‘So you listened and heard about the blood. Yes, some blood has been found. Now forget it and don’t say anything to anyone or you will be in trouble.’
    Major Mearns had an honest heartiness about him that made you believe him. ‘He matches his furniture somehow,’ Charlie thought, ‘and both are in good order.’
    The Major stood up. ‘I’m going to the Theatre. If you have finished eating, come with me.’
    Charlie wanted both to go with him and to continue his conversation. He did so as they walked together.
    â€˜But the dead lady was strangled …no blood,’ said Charlie. He had managed to get a look at her, and had been able to observe this much at least.
    The Major thought it best not to answer this, so he went on in silence. Charlie continued for him.
    â€˜Those parcels that I carried up to you … I was paid …but they were heavy.’
    â€˜So they were,’ agreed the Major.
    â€˜And the second one smelt.’
    â€˜Did it now?’
    â€˜I remember thinking that it was a leg of lamb that had hung around too long and had gone a bit high.’
    The boy was gazing hard into the Major’s face. ‘So what were they?’
    â€˜Don’t you think about it,