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third of the way down the steps. If he did, then with one hard shove . . .
She turned and started down, just in time to col-lide with Jack Younger, the elder, and the couple of
dozen fishermen who were on the steps behind him.
The big man grabbed her and steadied her.  What in the name of God is happening up here? he
asked, having just witnessed, from the beach, Ben Groves deadly fall.
She tried to speak.
She couldn't.
Instead, she fell against him, hugging him as if he'd been close to her all her life, and she sobbed so
hard that her stomach began to ache and her tears soaked his shirt.
She woke from a nightmare and sat straight up in bed, gasping for breath and calling for help in a tiny
voice. Her fear was not abated when she realized that it had all been a dream, for she was in a strange
place and could not remember how she'd gotten there.
Then, Louis Plunkett's pretty young wife opened the door and came in, looking worried, and Gwyn
recalled the entire thing: the horror of the previous night, Ben Groves' death, being rescued by the
fishermen, the police, the sheriff, the kind offer to stay here through the following few days . . . She had
refused Plunkett at first, but had given in when she realized she could not bear to stay in Barnaby Manor,
and that she would have to stick around at least until formal charges had been placed against Elaine, Will,
and Penny Nashe-Groves. They had gotten here quite late, after four in the morning, and she'd not been
asleep until about five, near dawn.
 What time is it? she asked Ellen Plunkett.
 You slept through lunch, and it's nearly sup-pertime, a quarter past five, the slight, freckled woman
told her.  But you needed every minute of it.
 I guess I did.
Ellen sat down on the edge of her bed and said,  I heard you cry out. Are you okay?
 I was having a nightmare.
 Those will fade away, the slim woman said.  Also, I thought you might want to know what your
uncle's admitted to.
She nodded.
 It seems he met Ben and Penny Groves in Lon-don, when he and Elaine were there on vacation,
saw her in a new stage show. The show, he says, was rotten, but the girl looked so like you that he got
the idea for this hoax. Anyway, he'd known about your parents' deaths from the start, and he'd also
known about your bout with emotional illness, about your Dr. Recard and everything.
 How? Gwyn asked, amazed.
 He read about your parents deaths in the newspapers, despite what he told you, Mrs. Plunkett
said.  And from that time on, he had you followed by a private detective agency. At least, Louis says it
was that way.
 That's absurd!
 Not particularly, the slim woman said.  Remember, you had a fortune coming to you, and he was
your last living relative. Naturally, the situation gave him ideas, though he couldn't pinpoint a plan of
action not until he saw Penny Nashe. He talked to the Groves, found they were down on their luck,
and talked them into taking on the job. Mrs. Groves underwent limited plastic surgery on her face, to
make her look even more like you, and then your uncle wrote you that let-ter.
 Weren't Fritz and Grace in on it? Gwyn asked.
 Yes. They're friends of the Groves. I believe Grace is Penny's aunt, or something like that.
 One other thing, Gwyn said.  Penny knew things about my childhood that even I'd forgot-ten. She
explained about the Teckert boy.
 That's easily explained, Ellen said.  When Mr. Barnaby knew you were having emotional problems,
he paid his detectives to raid Dr. Recard's files. They found a copy of your diary there, which you'd given
the doctor for study, and they copied it. Penny could have used a wealth of information that you'd written
years ago, but which you'd forgotten yourself.
 But why go to all this trouble? Gwyn asked.
 Your fortune, as I understand it, would be enough to make a lot of people go to even more trouble.
And your uncle was in very bad financial straights, both from high living and bad invest-ments.
 So it's over now, Gwyn said, sighing.
 Yes, it is, Ellen Plunkett said.  But there's a third reason I've come upstairs to see you. She smiled
mischievously.  There's a boy downstairs who wants to talk to you. He says he's treated you rather
poorly and that he wants to apologize. But I think he's here for more than that, because he men-tioned
something about you and him going into Calder to take in a movie.
 Jack Younger? she asked.
 That's right.
 I've got to shower and dress, Gwyn said.  He probably won't want to wait. I'll need an hour or  [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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