Page 4 of Death of the Toad

Except for the recurrent swishing of the wind-shield wipers there was total silence in the McKay automobile as the two women headed home from the service. Janet, solemn and dazed by Jeremy's outburst, made such small response to Kay's attempts at conversation that she finally gave up. The summer shower was of short duration as was Janet's mood, and by the time that they reached their driveway the sun and her usual buoyancy had returned.

  "Now," said Kay, "we need something to bring us back to the land of the living," and she busied herself with glasses, bottles and ice. Janet fixed her with a serious stare as they started on two large martinis on the rocks.

  "I hope you won't think it impertinent if I swear you to a bond of secrecy."

  "My lips are sealed," replied Kay. "What juicy morsel did the Professor let slip?"

  "Not the Professor, Jeremy Pinkney," and Janet recounted the story. Kay nodded quietly during the telling.

  "I thought that poor woman was enduring more than grief for her husband," she murmured pensively. "Did Jeremy say why his mother suspected him?"

  "No. And when I tried to ask him about it he became less

  coherent. I can't really trust his reactions. I hesitated to even mention it to you. The whole idea seems so preposterous. But I had to tell someone and--” Janet shrugged helplessly "well, what could I do?"

  "I quite see your point." Kay paused reflectively as they both sought support in the gin glass. "It seems to me that we, you and I that is, should make some inquiries on our own. No doubt Jeremy has misinterpreted his mother's reactions. Perhaps she was a little hysterical as well, although she doesn't look to be the hysterical type."

  "You don't seriously propose that I, we, should start up a private detective operation?" responded Janet with a laugh.

  "If you wish to put it that way, yes, in a word," replied Kay whose demeanour left no doubt about the seriousness of her proposal. "Consider what the alternatives are: you can't go to the authorities with this story and agonize the family without some more complete facts; and you can't completely ignore the whole thing, supposing there is some truth in it."

  "Why in the world did Jerry have to unload it on me?" lamented Janet. "But I suppose you're right. Once we're in it (and I guess I'm just as bad involving you) we have some responsibility especially to follow through. Willy-nilly, we know both more and less than we would wish to know. I'm afraid there's nothing for it but to pursue the matter till we satisfy ourselves either to open it up to somebody competent to make a full investigation, or to bury it."

  In admitting to their mutual commitment Janet would have been happier if her landlady had shown less obvious gusto about tackling what Janet viewed as a highly delicate and dubious undertaking. In several ways she had already had her fill of the Pinkney family, and a resumption of that still disquieting relationship with Jeremy had not been an experience to anticipate with delight in the best of circumstances; the revelations of the day made these anything but the best.