Hand in Glove

“Because of the identical letters of condolence. She thought he suspected her. She had let me see the second letter, hoping to anticipate anything he might tell me by throwing suspicion on him.”

“But how dreadful of her!” Mr. Period faintly exclaimed.

“She heard you shout that you were going to ring me up. You had your back to the window as you telephoned. The paperweight was on the table, near to hand. In an ecstasy of rage and fear for herself and her ward, she threw it at you and bolted. Everything she has done has been out of the unreasoning depths of her passion for that wretched girl. Her brother had threatened to bring a charge of theft against Mary, so Co

“But—” Nicola began and then said: “Yes. Of course.”

“Of course — why?”

“I was just remembering. They would be, anyway, because Mr. Period handed it round before lunch.”

“I wonder if she’s thought of that,” said Alleyn.

He went over to Mr. Period. “You’ve had a horrid time of it,” he said, “and I can’t say the sequel will be anything but very deeply distressing, but as far as your private affairs are concerned, I don’t think they will come into the case at all.”

Mr. Period tried once or twice to speak. At last he said: “You are very kind. Too kind. I’m most grateful.”

Alleyn shook his hand and left him. Nicola and Andrew saw him out.

Nicola said: “I’ve often tried to imagine what you were like in action. Now, I know. It’s a bit sobering.”

“I’ve been wondering,” Andrew said. “Did you ever suspect me?”

“You?” Alleyn looked at the pair of them and gri

He waved his hand and left them.

Nicola looked at Andrew. “Congratulations,” she said.

“Darling!” Andrew began excitedly, but.she backed away from him. “No! Not now! Not yet. Let’s wait. I must go back to Mr. Period,” said Nicola in a flurry.

“I love you,” said Andrew. “Isn’t it astonishing?”

“It’s heaven,” Nicola cried and ran into the house.

Mr. Period was looking pensive and had the air of a man who has made up his mind.

“Nicola, my love,” he said, still in a slightly invalidish voice, “it’s just occurred to me that I really should explain about that business…in case there is any misunderstanding. The old Rector at Ribblethorpe was a dear old boy but a leetle eccentric. He christened me, you know. But would you believe it, he forgot to put my name in the register? I was a twin. He became so ga-ga, poor darling, that I’m afraid that when I discovered the omission, I was very naughty and took things into my own hands. It seemed the simplest way out,” Mr. Period said, looking Nicola very straight in the eye. He gave a little titter. “But we won’t put it in the book.”

“No?”

“No,” said Mr. Period firmly. “ ’Nuff said.”

The End