CHAPTER NINEDefence Programme
Another car, and then another, drove up to the front door; there was commotion in the hall, a rush of footsteps, a slamming of doors. The house was astir by the time that Gamadge and Mrs. Mason had reached her room.
Mrs. Deedes came up behind them, gasping. “Henry, what is it? There are police on the grounds, and a man with a badge in the lower hall, and a man with a bag—he looks like a doctor. What has happened?”
Gamadge said: “Help me to get her on her bed.” Mrs. Deedes, with a wild glance at him, put her arm around her friend. Mrs. Mason was laid tenderly on the left-hand bed, and supported by a multitude of little pink and blue pillows; Mrs. Deedes drew the eiderdown up over her feet. She opened her eyes. “Syl’s dead,” she whispered. “Somebody killed hi
