Murders in, Volume 2 Read Online Free

The arbor lent a kind of fearful fascination to calls on Uncle Imbrie, and even he always seemed to view it with respect and awe.”
    â€œQuite extraordinary that such an unusual bit of family superstition never leaked out into somebody’s memoirs.”
    â€œThere was a ban on talking about it, too. I think we always had a sneaking sense of shame about Miss Wagoneur.”
    â€œWell,” and Gamadge smiled at her, “the trail is rather cold. I suppose you don’t want Harold and me to start on it now? I think you said Miss Wagoneur’s relations were all dead. Their descendants are not likely to bring charges of criminal neglect against the Vauregards at this time of day.”
    â€œDon’t laugh; it’s too awful. Uncle Imbrie thinks she’s come back.”
    Gamadge sat up in his chair and looked at Miss Vauregard.
    â€œJust a hundred years afterwards, you know—on May the third, 1940. Don’t laugh; it’s too awful.”
    â€œI’m not laughing.”
    â€œHe says she appeared in the doorway of the arbor at half past five in the afternoon, wearing a cornflower-blue silk dress with a white ruffle, and carrying a white silk scarf.”
    â€œMr. Vauregard told you this?”
    â€œYes, and he isn’t insane. Of course, he’s always been interested in what he calls occultism; he thinks he’s psychic. It’s nothing connected with religion, you know, and it’s not spiritualism. He calls it New Soul.”
    â€œHe’s addled his head with New Soul, the poor old boy!”
    â€œWell, he has some excuse, Mr. Gamadge; when she came back, she brought the book with her.”
    â€œBook?”
    â€œThe Byron, Volume II.”
    â€œThe Byron, Volume II,” repeated Gamadge, staring.
    â€œThe gap in the bookshelf is filled at last. You’ll see Volume II when you go into the library—the binding is fresher. He’s so proud of it all, he’ll probably find some excuse to show it to you.”
    Gamadge leaned back and lighted a cigarette. “I never heard such a story in my life.”
    â€œThe book matches, Mr. Gamadge; it’s out of a set of ten. You see why we want you so dreadfully? You absolutely must come and look at it.”
    â€œI shall certainly come and look at it. A collector’s item, by Jove, if ever there was one!”
    â€œAnd now he’s dropped New Soul completely, and hasn’t been near the Chandors since.”
    â€œAre they the New Soul merchants?”
    â€œYes. Angela introduced him, as a matter of fact—she’s always been amused by that kind of thing. So many theater people are.”
    â€œAnd business people.”
    â€œThen she got worried about it, he seemed so engrossed by them. Now he’s dropped the Chandors.”
    â€œDoesn’t need any more instruction in the occult; I see. Have you been introduced to Miss Wagoneur since she escaped from the fourth dimension?”
    â€œYes, but not for nearly a month after she came. However, I heard of her on May the fourth. Uncle telephoned me quite early that morning—it was a Saturday, I remember—and asked me to do some shopping for him. I often do, I’m always delighted.
    â€œHe startled me with a most extraordinary story. He said that the daughter of some very old friends of his—English—had been caught somewhere in Europe when the Germans came, and was only just able to escape to the coast. Her family was all dead, she had no friends nearer than England, and as the only boat she could find was coming to America, she thought of Uncle, whom she had often heard spoken of by her people, and embarked.”
    â€œWhat did he say she had been doing on the continent of Europe?”
    â€œShe was a governess in some noble family. He explained that she had lost all her luggage, and had even had to borrow a hat.”
    â€œHow did she manage about papers?”
    â€œKind officials got her