The Inquest
Bundle reached home about six a.m.
She was up and dressed by half past nine, and rang up Jimmy Thesiger on the telephone.
The promptitude of his reply somewhat surprised her, till he explained that he was going down to attend the inquest.
“So am I,” said Bundle. “And I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
“Well, suppose you let me drive you down and we can talk on the way. How about that?”
“All right. But allow a bit extra because you’ll have to take me to Chimneys. The Chief Constable’s picking me up there.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a kind man,” said Bundle.
“So am I,” said Jimmy. “Very kind.”
“Oh! you—you’re an ass,” said Bundle. “I heard somebody say so last night.”
“Who?”
“To be strictly accurate—a Russian Jew. No, it wasn’t. It was—”
But an indignant protest drowned her words.