Pursuit of a Parcel by Patricia Wentworth

he nodded, “Well, it is a good thing my poor sister did not live to see the day. I did what I could, but some people are bad from the beginning. He took after his father. Our family, thank God, have always been respected.”
    He turned to the door.
    â€œYou will accompany me to the mortuary.”
    Later on in the day Barend Roos walked in upon Mina van Eyden and her sister. They were orphans, living with an invalid aunt. Heiresses too—he would not do so badly for himself if he married Mina. Besides he was in love with her. Enough to make him dislike the errand upon which he was come and to put as good a face on it as possible. He could have wished that Letta was not there. She did not like him, and he had a feeling that he could manage Mina better alone. When they were married, his sister-in-law would not be very often in his house—he meant to see to that.
    He came into the room and stood for a moment without speaking. Then he said in a tone of concern,
    â€œI am afraid something very unpleasant has happened. Do you remember, Mina, at lunch the other day you said that you thought you had seen Antony Rossiter?”
    Mina turned pale. She threw a frightened look at her sister and took a step towards her. As she did so she said in a nervous voice, stumbling and hurrying over the words,
    â€œI don’t know—I can’t be sure—I didn’t really know him at all well—it might have been somebody else.”
    â€œBut that’s not what you said the other day.”
    â€œMina is always seeing likenesses,” said Letta.
    Barend frowned. “What has happened is this—someone else must have recognized him, because the Gestapo were informed. They went to arrest him at an eating-house kept by a woman who used to be in the Rossiters’ service, but he got away. They made after him, and there was, I believe, some shooting down by the waterside. He tried to cross on the barges and was shot down. The body wasn’t recovered at once, and now there is a question of identification.” He paused, and added in a concerned voice, “I am afraid, Mina, it is going to be necessary for you to identify him.”
    Mina gazed at him in a bewildered manner.
    â€œOh, Barend, I couldn’t—I couldn’t possibly! You don’t mean that I’ve got to go and look at him!”
    â€œI’m afraid you’ll have to. You see, there isn’t anyone else.”
    She took another step away from him, her eyes wide with horror. “There’s Cornelius.”
    â€œCornelius can’t be found.”
    â€œHow do you mean, he can’t be found? Look for him.”
    â€œThe Gestapo are looking for him,” said Barend grimly. “If they find him, I shall lose a cousin. I’m afraid we can’t count on Cornelius. Come, my dear—I will go with you, and it will all be over very quickly.”
    All this time they had taken no notice of Letta. She might not have been there. In herself, in her mind and spirit, she was alone. In that April week which seemed so long ago she had given Antony Rossiter a quick, passionate love. It had never occurred to her that he would love her. It had never occurred to her that she would love anyone else. She was not jealous of Mina, or of any girl whom he might love. She only wanted to love him. And now he was dead—
    She came back from the thought to the sound of Mina’s hysterical tears. “Barend, I can’t! It would kill me! I have never seen a dead person! Indeed I can’t!”
    A high pride rose in Letta. At least she would see him again. She stepped forward and said, speaking slowly and clearly, “There is no need for Mina to go—she would only faint. I knew Antony just as well as she did. If someone is wanted to identify him, I will go with you, Barend.”
    On the way to the mortuary she was wondering what she would say. If it was going to get anyone else into trouble, perhaps she