The Satan Bug by Alistair MacLean Page A

fire. One was a good-looking young girl of nineteen or twenty, slender, brown-haired and brown-eyed like Chessingham himself. His sister. The other, obviously, was his mother, but much older than I had expected his mother to be. A closer inspection showed that she wasn't really so old, she just looked old. Her hair was white, her eyes had that curious glaze you sometimes see on old people who are coming to the end of their road, and the hands resting on her lap were thin and wrinkled and criss-crossed with blue veins. Not an old woman: a sick woman, a very sick woman, prematurely aged. But she sat very erect and there was a welcoming smile on her thin, rather aristocratic features.
    " Mr. and Mrs. Cavell," Chessingham said. " You've heard me speak of Mr.
    Cavell. My mother, my sister Stella."
    "How do you do, both of you?" Mrs. Chessingham had that assured direct no-nonsense voice that would have gone well with a Victorian drawing-room and a houseful of servants. She peered at Mary. " My eyes aren't what they used to be, I'm afraid—but, my goodness, you are a beautiful girl. Come and sit beside me. How on earth did you manage it, Mr. Cavell?"
    "I think she must have mistaken me for someone else," I said.
    " These things happen," Mrs. Chessingham said precisely. For all their age, her eyes could still twinkle. She went on "That was a dreadful thing that happened out at Mordon to-day, Mr. Cavell. Dreadful. I have been hearing all about it." A pause, again the half-smile. " I hope you haven't come to take Eric to jail already, Mr. Cavell. He hasn't even had dinner yet. All this excitement, you know."
    " Your son's only connection with this affair, Mrs. Chessingham, is that he is unfortunate enough to work in number one laboratory. Our only interest in him is his complete and final elimination as a suspect. Every narrowing of the field is an advancement of a kind."
    "He doesn't have to be eliminated," Mrs. Chessingham said with some asperity. "Eric has nothing to do with it. The idea is ridiculous."
    " Of course. You know that, I know that, but Superintendent Hardanger, who is in charge of investigations, doesn't know that. All statements must be checked, no matter how unnecessary the checking. I had a great deal of difficulty in persuading the superintendent that I should come instead of one of his own officers." I saw Mary's eyes widen but she recovered herself quickly.
    " And why did you do that, Mr. Cavell?" I was beginning to feel sorry for young Chessingham, he must have felt foolish and ineffectual with his mother taking command in this fashion:
    " Because I know your son. The police don't. Saves seventy-five per cent of the questioning straight away. And Special Branch detectives can ask a great number of brutal and unnecessary questions in a case like this."
    " I don't doubt it. Nor do I doubt that you could be as ruthless as any man I've ever known if the occasion arose. But I know you won't on this occasion." She sighed and shifted her hands to the arms of her chair. " I hope you will excuse me. I am an old woman and not very well and so I have some privileges—dinner in bed is one." She turned and smiled at Mary. " I'd like to talk to you, my child. I have so few callers—I make the most of them. Would you like to help me negotiate those dreadful stairs while Stella sees to the dinner?"
    When we were alone Chessingham said: "Sorry about Mother. She does tend-----"
    " I think she's a wonderful woman. No need to apologise." His face lightened a little at that. " About your statement. You said you were at home all night. Mother and sister will of course vouch for that?"
    " Of course." He smiled. " They'd vouch for it whether I was at home or not."
    "I'd be surprised if they wouldn't after seeing them," I nodded. " Your mother could say anything and she would be believed. Not your sister.
    She's young and inexperienced and any competent policeman could break her down inside five minutes. If you were in any way