FOURTEENIt was late on the following day that Miss Silver was called to the telephone. Since the instrument was in the dining-room and supper was in progress, she hoped that her tact and discretion would not be put to too great a test. Mrs Rodney had handed her the receiver without saying who the caller was, but no sooner had a deep, pleasant voice pronounced her name than she was aware that it was Rietta March, the Chief Constable’s wife.
‘Dear Miss Silver, how are you? I do hope this is not an inconvenient moment. You are not in the middle of a meal or anything?’
Miss Silver coughed.
‘We are at supper, but I feel sure that my kind hostess will not mind a temporary interruption.’
Rietta, having been thus informed that the Tilling end of the conversation would be public property, and h
