CHAPTER FIVE
Terror by DaylightMrs. Barclay, wearing a pink woollen coat and skirt, white beach shoes, and a large white felt hat, stood outside the door of Room 21, clutching a knitting bag to her breast. The two men stepped into the corridor, and Gamadge performed introductions.
“You want to see me, ma’am?” asked Mitchell.
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s good. It saves me a trip to your cottage.” He tried the door of Number 22, which opened. “Step in here, Mrs. Barclay. It don’t seem to be occupied.”
“You too, if you’ll be so good, Mr. Gamadge,” said Mrs. Barclay. Her eyes were red, but her expression showed less grief than anger and determination. She walked in, followed by the others. Gamadge closed the door.
“Dreadful thing, Mr. Gamadge, isn’t it?” Mrs. Barclay sat down on the edge of the
