Arthur Upfield - The Widows of broome

“Fit it on, Esther,” requested Walters.

“It’s a little too big for me, and so I’m sure it’ll do,” she said.

Sawtell had actually painted the thing witha fast -drying enamel, achieving a near flesh-colour which was a credit to him. At the top and bottom edges he had drilled holes and through them laced a thick strand from a dressing-gown girdle. He had fashioned the collar in two pieces, hinged at the back and fastened at the front with strong clips. Without much trouble, Mrs. Walters placed the collar about her neck and stood back for examination. She had to hold her chin high, but the chin maintained the collar down upon the collar bone.

“Excellent!” cried Bony. “Congratulations, my dear Sawtell. Why, even the most fastidious woman could not object to wearing the ornament. Permit me, Mrs. Walters.”

Placing his hands about Mrs. Walters’ protected neck, he was instantly satisfied that the iron collar was a hundred per cent efficient. Mrs. Walters was thrilled. Sawtell was proud of his work, and Walters was relieved of one of his gnawing worries. To him Bony proffered a foolscap-size envelope, saying:

“I have recorded in detail my fishing strategy. I would like you to study it with Sawtell, and adhere rigidly to the parts I have set out for you and Sawtell and the two constables. I do not expect the shark to take the bait tonight, but we must all be prepared and waiting. You will find how much I have stressed the vital necessity for caution that the shark will not become suspicious and sheer off.”

“We’ll be with you all the way,” declared Walters.

A few minutes later, Bony left the police station. He carried Sawtell’s camera and iron collar parcelled in brown paper. Other oddments were stuffed into his pockets, spoiling the “set” of his pin-striped dark-grey suit. He walked with the slow tread of the locals, and first passed through a section of Chinatown, where he met Mr. Dickenson and spent ten minutes instructing him. Eventually, he approached Mrs. Sayers’ house from a side street, keeping beneath the roadside trees until he reached her front gate. It was five o’clock when Mrs. Sayers welcomed him.

“It seems hours that I’ve been waiting for you,” she said, her face slightly flushed beneath the make-up. “There was no need to send the domestic home early as she always goes home at two on Sundays… and I’m just dying to know what’s in that parcel young Keith Walters brought.”

“You would never guess,” he told her, smilingly. “Or what’s in this one. Now, with your permission, shall we have Briggs in? There are proposals to be accepted and things to do before nightfall.”

“He may not be awake… He sat up all last night, and the night before.” An expression strange to Bony lit the brown eyes. “You see, Briggs is devoted to me, and he’s been a little bit difficult.”

“Anxious, and inclined not to obey orders, eh?”

“That’s it. This morning he rebelled when he heard about the nightie being stolen. Did you see him, the thief I mean?”

“I saw him, but I could not identify him. If you don’t mind, I’ll rouse Briggs. He’ll be less rebellious when he knows the details of a little plan I want to put into operation.” Bony smiled again. “I am taking it for granted that you will not rebel.”

“Only if you leave me out of it.”

“My dear Mrs. Sayers, you are the keystone of the arch, the kernel of the nut, the very sun of the universe, the irresistible lure. Without you I am lost. Ah! This might be Briggs.”

Footsteps in the passage beyond the lounge door. Then Briggs stood in the entrance, the chewing switched on. The small black eyes were not friendly.

“Briggs, come in,” commanded Mrs. Sayers. “Mr. Knapp wants to talk to us.”

Bonyunwrapped his parcel, the woman and her man-servant-friend standing with him. Neither spoke when the camera was disclosed, and Briggs remained silent when Bony removed the wrapping about the iron collar.

“Whatever is that?” asked Mrs. Sayers, and Bony turned to her, the collar held forward.

“I am going to call it ‘Lady-May-Venture’,” he replied. “Sawtell and I plan to mass-produce. It’ll be all the rage. Bound to be. Permit me.”

Bony swung the collar open like a bracelet and gently “wrapped” it about Mrs. Sayers’s neck, fastening it.

“Chin up, please. Ah! An excellent fit.” Bony stepped back, and Mrs. Sayers worked her chin up and down. “Briggs, try to strangle Mrs. Sayers.”

Briggs, who had stopped chewing, said:

“Stone the crows!”

Mrs. Sayers giggled. Briggs clamped his hands about her neck and squeezed. Briggs exerted himself. Mrs. Sayers giggled again. Then swiftly she was serious, and when Briggs drew back, she said:

“Are you sure I’ll be attacked?”

“Yes,” answered Bony. “Now let me show you how to remove that thing, and then we’ll talk. Satisfied, Briggs?”

“Yes, up to a point.”

“What I am going to propose,” Bony prefaced his explanation, “is nothing less than arresting the killer of these Broome women in the act of attempting to kill you, Mrs. Sayers. He is both ruthless and cunning, and he’s the type having the instincts of the brute and the brain of the human thinker. This one has succeeded so well that we haven’t sufficient evidence to ask for a warrant to search his home.

“Having stolen your nightgown, he has begun the plan which he has successfully executed thrice. If he meets with opposition anywhere along the line of this fourth progress of his plan, he will retire until he feels sure he can strike down another victim. He may wait a month, six months, a year, and for obvious reasons we can neither give up hunting for him nor permit him to formulate an entirely different plan.

“Having stolen your nightgown, it will be his intention to gain entrance to this house for the purpose of destroying you. I want him to make the attempt. I want him to enter this house, to find you in your room, to attempt to kill you. I want to take a picture of him in the very act. I want to be with you, even in your room, waiting for him.

“Without that collar, I wouldn’t think to expose you to such terrible risk. Wearing it, you will not be exposed to physical risk, but you will require courage and the ability to withstand great nervous tension. There are two reasons for believing he won’t harm you. One, that you will be waiting for him, as you waited for Briggs, and two, I shall be with you.”

“Why, Mr. Knapp, I wouldn’t have believed that Broome could stage such an adventure.”

“We may have to wait all night in the dark for two or three, or even five nights.”

“In my bedroom?”

“In your bedroom. You will be lying on your bed, and I shall be seated on a chair in a corner of the room. I do hope you will not be acutely embarrassed.”

“I bet not as much as you,” Mrs. Sayers said with conviction. She broke into low laughter.“Oh, what a man! You tell me I’m to go to bed and that you’ll sit by my bed all night, and then you express very politely the hope that I shall not be embarrassed. And what makes it so funny is that you’re quite sincere about it.”

“Sincerity, Mrs. Sayers, is one of my virtues,” he said stiffly.

“I believe that,” she hastened to assure him. “It’s just the situation that’s so funny when I think of what the social lights of this town will think when they hear about it. Where will Briggs be waiting?”

“In his room,” replied Bony. “I cannot stress too much the importance of both Briggs and you continuing your normal routine. On one point only do I ask for sacrifice, and that is you will neither entertain at night nor accept invitations to spend the evenings away from home. I would like to stay here, to sleep in a spare room during the day, concealed from your domestic. No one must even suspect I’m in the house, and no one must think either of you is alarmed or suspects trouble. That is my plan.”