4.50 From Paddington

AgathaChristie
4:50fromPaddington
AMissMarpleMystery
Contents
TitlePage
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
ChapterTwenty-One
ChapterTwenty-Two
ChapterTwenty-Three
ChapterTwenty-Four
ChapterTwenty-Five
ChapterTwenty-Six
ChapterTwenty-Seven
AbouttheAuthor
OtherBooksbyAgathaChristie
Credit
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
One
Mrs.McGillicuddypantedalongtheplatforminthewakeoftheportercarryinghersuitcase.Mrs.McGillicuddywasshortandstout,theporterwastallandfree-striding.Inaddition,Mrs.McGillicuddywasburdenedwithalargequantityofparcels;theresultofaday’sChristmasshopping.Theracewas,therefore,anunevenone,andtheporterturnedthecornerattheendoftheplatformwhilstMrs.McGillicuddywasstillcomingupthestraight.
No.1Platformwasnotatthemomentundulycrowded,sinceatrainhadjustgoneout,butintheno-man’s-landbeyond,amillingcrowdwasrushinginseveraldirectionsatonce,toandfromundergrounds,left-luggageoffices,tearooms,inquiryoffices,indicatorboards,andthetwooutlets,ArrivalandDeparture,totheoutsideworld.
Mrs.McGillicuddyandherparcelswerebuffetedtoandfro,butshearrivedeventuallyattheentrancetoNo.3Platform,anddepositedoneparcelatherfeetwhilstshesearchedherbagfortheticketthatwouldenablehertopassthesternuniformedguardianatthegate.
Atthatmoment,aVoice,raucousyetrefined,burstintospeechoverherhead.
“ThetrainstandingatPlatform3,”theVoicetoldher,“isthe4:50forBrackhampton,Milchester,Waverton,CarvilJunction,RoxeterandstationstoChadmouth.PassengersforBrackhamptonandMilchestertravelattherearofthetrain.PassengersforVanequaychangeatRoxeter.”TheVoiceshutitselfoffwithaclick,andthenreopenedconversationbyannouncingthearrivalatPlatform9ofthe4:35fromBirminghamandWolverhampton.
Mrs.McGillicuddyfoundherticketandpresentedit.Themanclippedit,murmured:“Ontheright—rearportion.”
Mrs.McGillicuddypaddeduptheplatformandfoundherporter,lookingboredandstaringintospace,outsidethedoorofathird-classcarriage.
“Hereyouare,lady.”
“I’mtravellingfirst-class,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.
“Youdidn’tsayso,”grumbledtheporter.Hiseyeswepthermasculine-lookingpepper-and-salttweedcoatdisparagingly.
Mrs.McGillicuddy,whohadsaidso,didnotarguethepoint.Shewassadlyoutofbreath.
TheporterretrievedthesuitcaseandmarchedwithittotheadjoiningcoachwhereMrs.McGillicuddywasinstalledinsolitarysplendour.The4:50wasnotmuchpatronized,thefirst-classclientelepreferringeitherthefastermorningexpress,orthe6:40withdiningcar.Mrs.McGillicuddyhandedtheporterhistipwhichhereceivedwithdisappointment,clearlyconsideringitmoreapplicabletothird-classthantofirst-classtravel.Mrs.McGillicuddy,thoughpreparedtospendmoneyoncomfortabletravelafteranightjourneyfromtheNorthandaday’sfeverishshopping,wasatnotimeanextravaganttipper.
Shesettledherselfbackontheplushcushionswithasighandopenedhermagazine.Fiveminuteslater,whistlesblew,andthetrainstarted.ThemagazineslippedfromMrs.McGillicuddy’shand,herheaddroppedsideways,threeminuteslatershewasasleep.Shesleptforthirty-fiveminutesandawokerefreshed.Resettlingherhatwhichhadslippedaskewshesatupandlookedoutofthewindowatwhatshecouldseeoftheflyingcountryside.Itwasquitedarknow,adrearymistyDecemberday—Christmaswasonlyfivedaysahead.Londonhadbeendarkanddreary;thecountrywasnolessso,thoughoccasionallyrenderedcheerfulwithitsconstantclustersoflightsasthetrainflashedthroughtownsandstations.
“Servinglastteanow,”saidanattendant,whiskingopenthecorridordoorlikeajinn.Mrs.McGillicuddyhadalreadypartakenofteaatalargedepartmentstore.Shewasforthemomentamplynourished.Theattendantwentondownthecorridorutteringhismonotonouscry.Mrs.McGillicuddylookedupattherackwherehervariousparcelsreposed,withapleasedexpression.ThefacetowelshadbeenexcellentvalueandjustwhatMargaretwanted,thespacegunforRobbyandtherabbitforJeanwerehighlysatisfactory,andthateveningcoateewasjustthethingsheherselfneeded,warmbutdressy.ThepulloverforHector,too…herminddweltwithapprovalonthesoundnessofherpurchases.
Hersatisfiedgazereturnedtothewindow,atraintravellingintheoppositedirectionrushedbywithascreech,makingthewindowsrattleandcausinghertostart.Thetrainclatteredoverpointsandpassedthroughastation.
Thenitbegansuddenlytoslowdown,presumablyinobediencetoasignal.Forsomeminutesitcrawledalong,thenstopped,presentlyitbegantomoveforwardagain.Anotherup-trainpassedthem,thoughwithlessvehemencethanthefirstone.Thetraingatheredspeedagain.Atthatmomentanothertrain,alsoonadown-line,swervedinwardstowardsthem,foramomentwithalmostalarmingeffect.Foratimethetwotrainsranparallel,nowonegainingalittle,nowtheother.Mrs.McGillicuddylookedfromherwindowthroughthewindowsoftheparallelcarriages.Mostoftheblindsweredown,butoccasionallytheoccupantsofthecarriageswerevisible.Theothertrainwasnotveryfullandthereweremanyemptycarriages.
Atthemomentwhenthetwotrainsgavetheillusionofbeingstationary,ablindinoneofthecarriagesflewupwithasnap.Mrs.McGillicuddylookedintothelightedfirst-classcarriagethatwasonlyafewfeetaway.
Thenshedrewherbreathinwithagaspandhalf-rosetoherfeet.
Standingwithhisbacktothewindowandtoherwasaman.Hishandswereroundthethroatofawomanwhofacedhim,andhewasslowly,remorselessly,stranglingher.Hereyeswerestartingfromtheirsockets,herfacewaspurpleandcongested.AsMrs.McGillicuddywatchedfascinated,theendcame;thebodywentlimpandcrumpledintheman’shands
Atthesamemoment,Mrs.McGillicuddy’strainsloweddownagainandtheotherbegantogainspeed.Itpassedforwardandamomentortwolaterithadvanishedfromsight.
AlmostautomaticallyMrs.McGillicuddy’shandwentuptothecommunicationcord,thenpaused,irresolute.Afterall,whatusewoulditberingingthecordofthetraininwhichshewastravelling?Thehorrorofwhatshehadseenatsuchclosequarters,andtheunusualcircumstances,madeherfeelparalysed.Someimmediateactionwasnecessary—butwhat?
Thedoorofhercompartmentwasdrawnbackandaticketcollectorsaid,“Ticket,please.”
Mrs.McGillicuddyturnedtohimwithvehemence.
“Awomanhasbeenstrangled,”shesaid.“Inatrainthathasjustpassed.Isawit.”
Theticketcollectorlookedatherdoubtfully.
“Ibegyourpardon,madam?”
“Amanstrangledawoman!Inatrain.Isawit—throughthere.”Shepointedtothewindow.
Theticketcollectorlookedextremelydoubtful.
“Strangled?”hesaiddisbelievingly.
“Yes,strangled!Isawit,Itellyou.Youmustdosomethingatonce!”
Theticketcollectorcoughedapologetically.
“Youdon’tthink,madam,thatyoumayhavehadalittlenapand—er—”hebrokeofftactfully.
“Ihavehadanap,butifyouthinkthiswasadream,you’requitewrong.Isawit,Itellyou.”
Theticketcollector’seyesdroppedtotheopenmagazinelyingontheseat.Ontheexposedpagewasagirlbeingstrangledwhilstamanwitharevolverthreatenedthepairfromanopendoorway.
Hesaidpersuasively:“Nowdon’tyouthink,madam,thatyou’dbeenreadinganexcitingstory,andthatyoujustdroppedoff,andawakingalittleconfused—”
Mrs.McGillicuddyinterruptedhim.
“Isawit,”shesaid.“Iwasaswideawakeasyouare.AndIlookedoutofthewindowintothewindowofthetrainalongside,andamanwasstranglingawoman.AndwhatIwanttoknowis,whatareyougoingtodoaboutit?”
“Well—madam—”
“You’regoingtodosomething,Isuppose?”
Theticketcollectorsighedreluctantlyandglancedathiswatch.
“WeshallbeinBrackhamptoninexactlysevenminutes.I’llreportwhatyou’vetoldme.Inwhatdirectionwasthetrainyoumentiongoing?”
“Thisdirection,ofcourse.Youdon’tsupposeI’dhavebeenabletoseethisifatrainhadflashedpastgoingintheotherdirection?”
TheticketcollectorlookedasthoughhethoughtMrs.McGillicuddywasquitecapableofseeinganythinganywhereasthefancytookher.Butheremainedpolite.
“Youcanrelyonme,madam,”hesaid.“Iwillreportyourstatement.PerhapsImighthaveyournameandaddress—justincase….”
Mrs.McGillicuddygavehimtheaddresswhereshewouldbestayingforthenextfewdaysandherpermanentaddressinScotland,andhewrotethemdown.Thenhewithdrewwiththeairofamanwhohasdonehisdutyanddealtsuccessfullywithatiresomememberofthetravellingpublic.
Mrs.McGillicuddyremainedfrowningandvaguelyunsatisfied.Wouldtheticketcollectorreportherstatement?Orhadhejustbeensoothingherdown?Therewere,shesupposedvaguely,alotofelderlywomentravellingaround,fullyconvincedthattheyhadunmaskedcommunistplots,wereindangerofbeingmurdered,sawflyingsaucersandsecretspaceships,andreportedmurdersthathadnevertakenplace.Ifthemandismissedherasoneofthose….
Thetrainwasslowingdownnow,passingoverpointsandrunningthroughthebrightlightsofalargetown.
Mrs.McGillicuddyopenedherhandbag,pulledoutareceiptedbillwhichwasallshecouldfind,wrotearapidnoteonthebackofitwithherball-pen,putitintoaspareenvelopethatshefortunatelyhappenedtohave,stucktheenvelopedownandwroteonit.
Thetraindrewslowlyintoacrowdedplatform.TheusualubiquitousVoicewasintoning:
“ThetrainnowarrivingatPlatform1isthe5:38forMilchester,Waverton,Roxeter,andstationstoChadmouth.PassengersforMarketBasingtakethetrainnowwaitingatNo.3platform.No.1bayforstoppingtraintoCarbury.”
Mrs.McGillicuddylookedanxiouslyalongtheplatform.Somanypassengersandsofewporters.Ah,therewasone!Shehailedhimauthoritatively.
“Porter!PleasetakethisatoncetotheStationmaster’soffice.”
Shehandedhimtheenvelope,andwithitashilling.
Then,withasigh,sheleanedback.Well,shehaddonewhatshecould.Hermindlingeredwithaninstant’sregretontheshilling…Sixpencewouldreallyhavebeenenough….
Hermindwentbacktothesceneshehadwitnessed.Horrible,quitehorrible…Shewasastrong-nervedwoman,butsheshivered.Whatastrange—whatafantasticthingtohappentoher,ElspethMcGillicuddy!Iftheblindofthecarriagehadnothappenedtoflyup…Butthat,ofcourse,wasProvidence.
Providencehadwilledthatshe,ElspethMcGillicuddy,shouldbeawitnessofthecrime.Herlipssetgrimly.
Voicesshouted,whistlesblew,doorswerebangedshut.The5:38drewslowlyoutofBrackhamptonstation.AnhourandfiveminuteslateritstoppedatMilchester.
Mrs.McGillicuddycollectedherparcelsandhersuitcaseandgotout.Shepeeredupanddowntheplatform.Hermindreiterateditsformerjudgment:Notenoughporters.Suchportersastherewereseemedtobeengagedwithmailbagsandluggagevans.Passengersnowadaysseemedalwaysexpectedtocarrytheirowncases.Well,shecouldn’tcarryhersuitcaseandherumbrellaandallherparcels.Shewouldhavetowait.Induecourseshesecuredaporter.
“Taxi?”
“Therewillbesomethingtomeetme,Iexpect.”
OutsideMilchesterstation,ataxi-driverwhohadbeenwatchingtheexitcameforward.Hespokeinasoftlocalvoice
“IsitMrs.McGillicuddy?ForSt.MaryMead?”
Mrs.McGillicuddyacknowledgedheridentity.Theporterwasrecompensed,adequatelyifnothandsomely.Thecar,withMrs.McGillicuddy,hersuitcase,andherparcelsdroveoffintothenight.Itwasanine-miledrive.Sittingboltuprightinthecar,Mrs.McGillicuddywasunabletorelax.Herfeelingsyearnedforexpression.Atlastthetaxidrovealongthefamiliarvillagestreetandfinallydrewupatitsdestination;Mrs.McGillicuddygotoutandwalkedupthebrickpathtothedoor.Thedriverdepositedthecasesinsideasthedoorwasopenedbyanelderlymaid.Mrs.McGillicuddypassedstraightthroughthehalltowhere,attheopensittingroomdoor,herhostessawaitedher;anelderlyfrailoldlady.
“Elspeth!”
“Jane!”
Theykissedand,withoutpreambleorcircumlocution,Mrs.McGillicuddyburstintospeech.
“Oh,Jane!”shewailed.“I’vejustseenamurder!”
Two
Truetothepreceptshandeddowntoherbyhermotherandgrandmother—towit:thatatrueladycanneitherbeshockednorsurprised—MissMarplemerelyraisedhereyebrowsandshookherhead,asshesaid:
“Mostdistressingforyou,Elspeth,andsurelymostunusual.Ithinkyouhadbettertellmeaboutitatonce.”
ThatwasexactlywhatMrs.McGillicuddywantedtodo.Allowingherhostesstodrawhernearertothefire,shesatdown,pulledoffherglovesandplungedintoavividnarrative.
MissMarplelistenedwithcloseattention.WhenMrs.McGillicuddyatlastpausedforbreath,MissMarplespokewithdecision.
“Thebestthing,Ithink,mydear,isforyoutogoupstairsandtakeoffyourhatandhaveawash.Thenwewillhavesupper—duringwhichwewillnotdiscussthisatall.Aftersupperwecangointothematterthoroughlyanddiscussitfromeveryaspect.”
Mrs.McGillicuddyconcurredwiththissuggestion.Thetwoladieshadsupper,discussing,astheyate,variousaspectsoflifeaslivedinthevillageofSt.MaryMead.MissMarplecommentedonthegeneraldistrustoftheneworganist,relatedtherecentscandalaboutthechemist’swife,andtouchedonthehostilitybetweentheschoolmistressandthevillageinstitute.TheythendiscussedMissMarple’sandMrs.McGillicuddy’sgardens.
“Paeonies,”saidMissMarpleassherosefromtable,“aremostunaccountable.Eithertheydo—ortheydon’tdo.Butiftheydoestablishthemselves,theyarewithyouforlife,sotospeak,andreallymostbeautifulvarietiesnowadays.”
Theysettledthemselvesbythefireagain,andMissMarplebroughtouttwooldWaterfordglassesfromacornercupboard,andfromanothercupboardproducedabottle.
“Nocoffeetonightforyou,Elspeth,”shesaid.“Youarealreadyoverexcited(andnowonder!)andprobablywouldnotsleep.Iprescribeaglassofmycowslipwine,andlater,perhaps,acupofcamo-miletea.”
Mrs.McGillicuddyacquiescinginthesearrangements,MissMarplepouredoutthewine.
“Jane,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,asshetookanappreciativesip,“youdon’tthink,doyou,thatIdreamtit,orimaginedit?”
“Certainlynot,”saidMissMarplewithwarmth.
Mrs.McGillicuddyheavedasighofrelief.
“Thatticketcollector,”shesaid,“hethoughtso.Quitepolite,butallthesame—”
“Ithink,Elspeth,thatthatwasquitenaturalunderthecircumstances.Itsounded—andindeedwas—amostunlikelystory.Andyouwereacompletestrangertohim.No,Ihavenodoubtatallthatyousawwhatyou’vetoldmeyousaw.It’sveryextraordinary—butnotatallimpossible.IrecollectmyselfbeinginterestedwhenatrainranparalleltooneonwhichIwastravelling,tonoticewhatavividandintimatepictureonegotofwhatwasgoingoninoneortwoofthecarriages.Alittlegirl,Irememberonce,playingwithateddybear,andsuddenlyshethrewitdeliberatelyatafatmanwhowasasleepinthecornerandhebouncedupandlookedmostindignant,andtheotherpassengerslookedsoamused.Isawthemallquitevividly.Icouldhavedescribedafterwardsexactlywhattheylookedlikeandwhattheyhadon.”
Mrs.McGillicuddynoddedgratefully.
“That’sjusthowitwas.”
“Themanhadhisbacktoyou,yousay.Soyoudidn’tseehisface?”
“No.”
“Andthewoman,youcandescribeher?Young,old?”
“Youngish.Betweenthirtyandthirty-five,Ishouldthink.Icouldn’tsaycloserthanthat.”
“Good-looking?”
“Thatagain,Icouldn’tsay.Herface,yousee,wasallcontortedand—”
MissMarplesaidquickly:
“Yes,yes,Iquiteunderstand.Howwasshedressed?”
“Shehadonafurcoatofsomekind,apalishfur.Nohat.Herhairwasblonde.”
“Andtherewasnothingdistinctivethatyoucanrememberabouttheman?”
Mrs.McGillicuddytookalittletimetothinkcarefullybeforeshereplied.
“Hewastallish—anddark,Ithink.HehadaheavycoatonsothatIcouldn’tjudgehisbuildverywell.”Sheaddeddespondently,“It’snotreallyverymuchtogoon.”
“It’ssomething,”saidMissMarple.Shepausedbeforesaying:“Youfeelquitesure,inyourownmind,thatthegirlwas—dead?”
“Shewasdead,I’msureofit.Hertonguecameoutand—I’drathernottalkaboutit….”
“Ofcoursenot.Ofcoursenot,”saidMissMarplequickly.“Weshallknowmore,Iexpect,inthemorning.”
“Inthemorning?”
“Ishouldimagineitwillbeinthemorningpapers.Afterthismanhadattackedandkilledher,hewouldhaveabodyonhishands.Whatwouldhedo?Presumablyhewouldleavethetrainquicklyatthefirststation—bytheway,canyourememberifitwasacorridorcarriage?”
“No,itwasnot.”
“Thatseemstopointtoatrainthatwasnotgoingfarafield.ItwouldalmostcertainlystopatBrackhampton.LetussayheleavesthetrainatBrackhampton,perhapsarrangingthebodyinacornerseat,withherfacehiddenbythefurcollartodelaydiscovery.Yes—Ithinkthatthatiswhathewoulddo.Butofcourseitwillbediscoveredbeforeverylong—andIshouldimaginethatthenewsofamurderedwomandiscoveredonatrainwouldbealmostcertaintobeinthemorningpapers—weshallsee.”
II
Butitwasnotinthemorningpapers.
MissMarpleandMrs.McGillicuddy,aftermakingsureofthis,finishedtheirbreakfastinsilence.Bothwerereflecting.
Afterbreakfast,theytookaturnroundthegarden.Butthis,usuallyanabsorbingpastime,wastodaysomewhathalfhearted.MissMarpledidindeedcallattentiontosomenewandrarespeciesshehadacquiredforherrock-gardenbutdidsoinanalmostabsentmindedmanner.AndMrs.McGillicuddydidnot,aswascustomary,counter-attackwithalistofherownrecentacquisitions.
“Thegardenisnotlookingatallasitshould,”saidMissMarple,butstillspeakingabsentmindedly.“DoctorHaydockhasabsolutelyforbiddenmetodoanystoopingorkneeling—andreally,whatcanyoudoifyoudon’tstooporkneel?There’soldEdwards,ofcourse—butsoopinionated.Andallthisjobbinggetsthemintobadhabits,lotsofcupsofteaandsomuchpottering—notanyrealwork.”
“Oh,Iknow,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.“Ofcourse,there’snoquestionofmybeingforbiddentostoop,butreally,especiallyaftermeals—andhavingputonweight”—shelookeddownatherampleproportions—“itdoesbringonheartburn.”
TherewasasilenceandthenMrs.McGillicuddyplantedherfeetsturdily,stoodstill,andturnedonherfriend.
“Well?”shesaid.
Itwasasmallinsignificantword,butitacquiredfullsignificancefromMrs.McGillicuddy’stone,andMissMarpleunderstooditsmeaningperfectly.
“Iknow,”shesaid.
Thetwoladieslookedateachother.
“Ithink,”saidMissMarple,“wemightwalkdowntothepolicestationandtalktoSergeantCornish.He’sintelligentandpatient,andIknowhimverywell,andheknowsme.Ithinkhe’lllisten—andpasstheinformationontotheproperquarter.”
Accordingly,somethree-quartersofanhourlater,MissMarpleandMrs.McGillicuddyweretalkingtoafresh-facedgravemanbetweenthirtyandfortywholistenedattentivelytowhattheyhadtosay.
FrankCornishreceivedMissMarplewithcordialityandevendeference.Hesetchairsforthetwoladies,andsaid:“Nowwhatcanwedoforyou,MissMarple?”
MissMarplesaid:“Iwouldlikeyou,please,tolistentomyfriendMrs.McGillicuddy’sstory.”
AndSergeantCornishhadlistened.Atthecloseoftherecitalheremainedsilentforamomentortwo.
Thenhesaid:
“That’saveryextraordinarystory.”Hiseyes,withoutseemingtodoso,hadsizedMrs.McGillicuddyupwhilstshewastellingit.
Onthewhole,hewasfavourablyimpressed.Asensiblewoman,abletotellastoryclearly;not,sofarashecouldjudge,anover-imaginativeorahystericalwoman.Moreover,MissMarple,soitseemed,believedintheaccuracyofherfriend’sstoryandheknewallaboutMissMarple.EverybodyinSt.MaryMeadknewMissMarple;fluffyandditheryinappearance,butinwardlyassharpandasshrewdastheymakethem.
Heclearedhisthroatandspoke.
“Ofcourse,”hesaid,“youmayhavebeenmistaken—I’mnotsayingyouwere,mind—butyoumayhavebeen.There’salotofhorse-playgoeson—itmayn’thavebeenseriousorfatal.”
“IknowwhatIsaw,”saidMrs.McGillicuddygrimly.
“Andyouwon’tbudgefromit,”thoughtFrankCornish,“andI’dsaythat,likelyorunlikely,youmayberight.”
Aloudhesaid:“Youreportedittotherailwayofficials,andyou’vecomeandreportedittome.That’stheproperprocedureandyoumayrelyonmetohaveinquiriesinstituted.”
Hestopped.MissMarplenoddedherheadgently,satisfied.Mrs.McGillicuddywasnotquitesosatisfied,butshedidnotsayanything.SergeantCornishaddressedMissMarple,notsomuchbecausehewantedherideas,asbecausehewantedtohearwhatshewouldsay.
“Grantedthefactsareasreported,”hesaid,“whatdoyouthinkhashappenedtothebody?”
“Thereseemstobeonlytwopossibilities,”saidMissMarplewithouthesitation.“Themostlikelyone,ofcourse,isthatthebodywasleftinthetrain,butthatseemsimprobablenow,foritwouldhavebeenfoundsometimelastnight,byanothertraveller,orbytherailwaystaffatthetrain’sultimatedestination.”
FrankCornishnodded.
“Theonlyothercourseopentothemurdererwouldbetopushthebodyoutofthetrainontotheline.Itmust,Isuppose,bestillonthetracksomewhereasyetundiscovered—thoughthatdoesseemalittleunlikely.Buttherewouldbe,asfarasIcansee,nootherwayofdealingwithit.”
“Youreadaboutbodiesbeingputintrunks,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,“butno-onetravelswithtrunksnowadays,onlysuitcases,andyoucouldn’tgetabodyintoasuitcase.”
“Yes,”saidCornish.“Iagreewithyouboth.Thebody,ifthereisabody,oughttohavebeendiscoveredbynow,orwillbeverysoon.I’llletyouknowanydevelopmentsthereare—thoughIdaresayyou’llreadabouttheminthepapers.There’sthepossibility,ofcourse,thatthewoman,thoughsavagelyattacked,wasnotactuallydead.Shemayhavebeenabletoleavethetrainonherownfeet.”
“Hardlywithoutassistance,”saidMissMarple.“Andifso,itwillhavebeennoticed.Aman,supportingawomanwhomhesaysisill.”
“Yes,itwillhavebeennoticed,”saidCornish.“Orifawomanwasfoundunconsciousorillinacarriageandwasremovedtohospital,that,too,willbeonrecord.Ithinkyoumayrestassuredthatyou’llhearaboutitallinaveryshorttime.”
Butthatdaypassedandthenextday.OnthateveningMissMarplereceivedanotefromSergeantCornish.
Inregardtothematteronwhichyouconsultedme,fullinquirieshavebeenmade,withnoresult.Nowoman’sbodyhasbeenfound.Nohospitalhasadministeredtreatmenttoawomansuchasyoudescribe,andnocaseofawomansufferingfromshockortakenill,orleavingastationsupportedbyamanhasbeenobserved.Youmaytakeitthatthefullestinquirieshavebeenmade.Isuggestthatyourfriendmayhavewitnessedascenesuchasshedescribedbutthatitwasmuchlessseriousthanshesupposed.
Three
“Lessserious?Fiddlesticks!”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.“Itwasmurder!”
ShelookeddefiantlyatMissMarpleandMissMarplelookedbackather.
“Goon,Jane,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.“Sayitwasallamistake!SayIimaginedthewholething!That’swhatyouthinknow,isn’tit?”
“Anyonecanbemistaken,”MissMarplepointedoutgently.“Anybody,Elspeth—evenyou.Ithinkwemustbearthatinmind.ButIstillthink,youknow,thatyouweremostprobablynotmistaken…Youuseglassesforreading,butyou’vegotverygoodfarsight—andwhatyousawimpressedyouverypowerfully.Youweredefinitelysufferingfromshockwhenyouarrivedhere.”
“It’sathingIshallneverforget,”saidMrs.McGillicuddywithashudder.“Thetroubleis,Idon’tseewhatIcandoaboutit!”
“Idon’tthink,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully,“thatthere’sanythingmoreyoucandoaboutit.”(IfMrs.McGillicuddyhadbeenalerttothetonesofherfriend’svoice,shemighthavenoticedaveryfaintstresslaidontheyou.)“You’vereportedwhatyousaw—totherailwaypeopleandtothepolice.No,there’snothingmoreyoucando.”
“That’sarelief,inaway,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,“becauseasyouknow,I’mgoingouttoCeylonimmediatelyafterChristmas—tostaywithRoderick,andIcertainlydonotwanttoputthatvisitoff—I’vebeenlookingforwardtoitsomuch.ThoughofcourseIwouldputitoffifIthoughtitwasmyduty,”sheaddedconscientiously.
“I’msureyouwould,Elspeth,butasIsay,Iconsideryou’vedoneeverythingyoupossiblycoulddo.”
“It’suptothepolice,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.“Andifthepolicechoosetobestupid—”
MissMarpleshookherheaddecisively.
“Oh,no,”shesaid,“thepolicearen’tstupid.Andthatmakesitinteresting,doesn’tit?”
Mrs.McGillicuddylookedatherwithoutcomprehensionandMissMarplereaffirmedherjudgmentofherfriendasawomanofexcellentprinciplesandnoimagination.
“Onewantstoknow,”saidMissMarple,“whatreallyhappened.”
“Shewaskilled.”
“Yes,butwhokilledher,andwhy,andwhathappenedtoherbody?Whereisitnow?”
“That’sthebusinessofthepolicetofindout.”
“Exactly—andtheyhaven’tfoundout.Thatmeans,doesn’tit,thatthemanwasclever—veryclever.Ican’timagine,youknow,”saidMissMarple,knittingherbrows,“howhedisposedofit…Youkillawomaninafitofpassion—itmusthavebeenunpremeditated,you’dneverchoosetokillawomaninsuchcircumstancesjustafewminutesbeforerunningintoabigstation.No,itmusthavebeenaquarrel—jealousy—somethingofthatkind.Youstrangleher—andthereyouare,asIsay,withadeadbodyonyourhandsandonthepointofrunningintoastation.WhatcouldyoudoexceptasIsaidatfirst,propthebodyupinacornerasthoughasleep,hidingtheface,andthenyourselfleavethetrainasquicklyaspossible.Idon’tseeanyotherpossibility—andyettheremusthavebeenone….”
MissMarplelostherselfinthought.
Mrs.McGillicuddyspoketohertwicebeforeMissMarpleanswered.
“You’regettingdeaf,Jane.”
“Justalittle,perhaps.Peopledonotseemtometoenunciatetheirwordsasclearlyastheyusedtodo.Butitwasn’tthatIdidnothearyou.I’mafraidIwasn’tpayingattention.”
“IjustaskedaboutthetrainstoLondontomorrow.Wouldtheafternoonbeallright?I’mgoingtoMargaret’sandsheisn’texpectingmebeforeteatime.”
“Iwonder,Elspeth,ifyouwouldmindgoingupbythe12:15?Wecouldhaveanearlylunch.”
“Ofcourseand—”MissMarplewenton,drowningherfriend’swords:
“AndIwonder,too,ifMargaretwouldmindifyoudidn’tarrivefortea—ifyouarrivedaboutseven,perhaps?”
Mrs.McGillicuddylookedatherfriendcuriously.
“What’sonyourmind,Jane?”
“Isuggest,Elspeth,thatIshouldtraveluptoLondonwithyou,andthatweshouldtraveldownagainasfarasBrackhamptoninthetrainyoutravelledbytheotherday.YouwouldthenreturntoLondonfromBrackhamptonandIwouldcomeonhereasyoudid.I,ofcourse,wouldpaythefares,”MissMarplestressedthispointfirmly.
Mrs.McGillicuddyignoredthefinancialaspect.
“Whatonearthdoyouexpect,Jane?”sheasked.“Anothermurder?”
“Certainlynot,”saidMissMarpleshocked.“ButIconfessIshouldliketoseeformyself,underyourguidance,the—the—reallyitismostdifficulttofindthecorrectterm—theterrainofthecrime.”
SoaccordinglyonthefollowingdayMissMarpleandMrs.McGillicuddyfoundthemselvesintwooppositecornersofafirst-classcarriagespeedingoutofLondonbythe4:50fromPaddington.PaddingtonhadbeenevenmorecrowdedthanontheprecedingFriday—astherewerenowonlytwodaystogobeforeChristmas,butthe4:50wascomparativelypeaceful—atanyrate,intherearportion.
Onthisoccasionnotraindrewlevelwiththem,ortheywithanothertrain.AtintervalstrainsflashedpastthemtowardsLondon.Ontwooccasionstrainsflashedpastthemtheotherwaygoingathighspeed.AtintervalsMrs.McGillicuddyconsultedherwatchdoubtfully.
“It’shardtotelljustwhen—we’dpassedthroughastationIknow…”Buttheywerecontinuallypassingthroughstations.
“We’redueinBrackhamptoninfiveminutes,”saidMissMarple.
Aticketcollectorappearedinthedoorway.MissMarpleraisedhereyesinterrogatively.Mrs.McGillicuddyshookherhead.Itwasnotthesameticketcollector.Heclippedtheirtickets,andpassedonstaggeringjustalittleasthetrainswungroundalongcurve.Itslackenedspeedasitdidso.
“Iexpectwe’recomingintoBrackhampton,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.
“We’regettingintotheoutskirts,Ithink,”saidMissMarple.
Therewerelightsflashingpastoutside,buildings,anoccasionalglimpseofstreetsandtrams.Theirspeedslackenedfurther.Theybegancrossingpoints.
“We’llbethereinaminute,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,“andIcan’treallyseethisjourneyhasbeenanygoodatall.Hasitsuggestedanythingtoyou,Jane?”
“I’mafraidnot,”saidMissMarpleinaratherdoubtfulvoice.
“Asadwasteofgoodmoney,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,butwithlessdisapprovalthanshewouldhaveusedhadshebeenpayingforherself.MissMarplehadbeenquiteadamantonthatpoint.
“Allthesame,”saidMissMarple,“onelikestoseewithone’sowneyeswhereathinghappened.Thistrain’sjustafewminuteslate.WasyoursontimeonFriday?”
“Ithinkso.Ididn’treallynotice.”
ThetraindrewslowlyintothebusylengthofBrackhamptonstation.Theloudspeakerannouncedhoarsely,doorsopenedandshut,peoplegotinandout,milledupanddowntheplatform.Itwasabusycrowdedscene.
Easy,thoughtMissMarple,foramurderertomergeintothatcrowd,toleavethestationinthemidstofthatpressingmassofpeople,oreventoselectanothercarriageandgooninthetrainwhereveritsultimatedestinationmightbe.Easytobeonemalepassengeramongstmany.Butnotsoeasytomakeabodyvanishintothinair.Thatbodymustbesomewhere.
Mrs.McGillicuddyhaddescended.Shespokenowfromtheplatform,throughtheopenwindow.
“Nowtakecareofyourself,Jane,”shesaid.“Don’tcatchachill.It’sanastytreacheroustimeofyear,andyou’renotsoyoungasyouwere.”
“Iknow,”saidMissMarple.
“Anddon’tlet’sworryourselvesanymoreoverallthis.We’vedonewhatwecould.”
MissMarplenodded,andsaid:
“Don’tstandaboutinthecold,Elspeth.Oryou’llbetheonetocatchachill.GoandgetyourselfagoodhotcupofteaintheRestaurantRoom.You’vegottime,twelveminutesbeforeyourtrainbacktotown.”
“IthinkperhapsIwill.Good-bye,Jane.”
“Good-bye,Elspeth.AhappyChristmastoyou.IhopeyoufindMargaretwell.EnjoyyourselfinCeylon,andgivemylovetodearRoderick—ifheremembersmeatall,whichIdoubt.”
“Ofcourseheremembersyou—verywell.Youhelpedhiminsomewaywhenhewasatschool—somethingtodowithmoneythatwasdisappearingfromalocker—he’sneverforgottenit.”
“Oh,that!”saidMissMarple.
Mrs.McGillicuddyturnedaway,awhistleblew,thetrainbegantomove.MissMarplewatchedthesturdythicksetbodyofherfriendrecede.ElspethcouldgotoCeylonwithaclearconscience—shehaddoneherdutyandwasfreedfromfurtherobligation.
MissMarpledidnotleanbackasthetraingatheredspeed.Insteadshesatuprightanddevotedherselfseriouslytothought.ThoughinspeechMissMarplewaswoollyanddiffuse,inmindshewasclearandsharp.Shehadaproblemtosolve,theproblemofherownfutureconduct;and,perhapsstrangely,itpresenteditselftoherasithadtoMrs.McGillicuddy,asaquestionofduty.
Mrs.McGillicuddyhadsaidthattheyhadbothdoneallthattheycoulddo.ItwastrueofMrs.McGillicuddybutaboutherselfMissMarpledidnotfeelsosure.
Itwasaquestion,sometimes,ofusingone’sspecialgifts…Butperhapsthatwasconceited…Afterall,whatcouldshedo?Herfriend’swordscamebacktoher,“You’renotsoyoungasyouwere….”
Dispassionately,likeageneralplanningacampaign,oranaccountantassessingabusiness,MissMarpleweighedupandsetdowninhermindthefactsofandagainstfurtherenterprise.Onthecreditsidewerethefollowing:
1.Mylongexperienceoflifeandhumannature.
2.SirHenryClitheringandhisgodson(nowatScotlandYard,Ibelieve),whowassoveryniceintheLittlePaddockscase.
3.MynephewRaymond’ssecondboy,David,whois,Iamalmostsure,inBritishRailways.
4.Griselda’sboyLeonardwhoissoveryknowledgeableaboutmaps.
MissMarplereviewedtheseassetsandapprovedthem.Theywereallverynecessary,toreinforcetheweaknessesonthedebitside—inparticularherownbodilyweakness.
“Itisnot,”thoughtMissMarple,“asthoughIcouldgohere,thereandeverywhere,makinginquiriesandfindingoutthings.”
Yes,thatwasthechiefobjection,herownageandweakness.Although,forherage,herhealthwasgood,yetshewasold.AndifDr.Haydockhadstrictlyforbiddenhertodopracticalgardeninghewouldhardlyapproveofherstartingouttotrackdownamurderer.Forthat,ineffect,waswhatshewasplanningtodo—anditwastherethatherloopholelay.Forifheretoforemurderhad,sotospeak,beenforceduponher,inthiscaseitwouldbethatsheherselfsetoutdeliberatelytoseekit.Andshewasnotsurethatshewantedtodoso…Shewasold—oldandtired.Shefeltatthismoment,attheendofatiringday,agreatreluctancetoenteruponanyprojectatall.Shewantednothingatallbuttomarchhomeandsitbythefirewithanicetrayofsupper,andgotobed,andpotteraboutthenextdayjustsnippingoffafewthingsinthegarden,tidyingupinaverymildway,withoutstooping,withoutexertingherself….
“I’mtoooldforanymoreadventures,”saidMissMarpletoherself,watchingabsentlyoutofthewindowthecurvinglineofanembankment….
Acurve….
Veryfaintlysomethingstirredinhermind…Justaftertheticketcollectorhadclippedtheirtickets….
Itsuggestedanidea.Onlyanidea.Anentirelydifferentidea….
AlittlepinkflushcameintoMissMarple’sface.Suddenlyshedidnotfeeltiredatall!
“I’llwritetoDavidtomorrowmorning,”shesaidtoherself.
Andatthesametimeanothervaluableassetflashedthroughhermind.
“Ofcourse.MyfaithfulFlorence!”
II
MissMarplesetaboutherplanofcampaignmethodicallyandmakingdueallowancefortheChristmasseasonwhichwasadefinitelyretardingfactor.
Shewrotetohergreat-nephew,DavidWest,combiningChristmaswisheswithanurgentrequestforinformation.
Fortunatelyshewasinvited,asonpreviousyears,tothevicarageforChristmasdinner,andhereshewasabletotackleyoungLeonard,homefortheChristmasseason,aboutmaps.
MapsofallkindswereLeonard’spassion.Thereasonfortheoldlady’sinquiryaboutalarge-scalemapofaparticularareadidnotrousehiscuriosity.Hediscoursedonmapsgenerallywithfluency,andwrotedownforherexactlywhatwouldsuitherpurposebest.Infact,hedidbetter.Heactuallyfoundthathehadsuchamapamongsthiscollectionandhelentittoher,MissMarplepromisingtotakegreatcareofitandreturnitinduecourse.
III
“Maps,”saidhismother,Griselda,whostill,althoughshehadagrown-upson,lookedstrangelyyoungandbloomingtobeinhabitingtheshabbyoldvicarage.“Whatdoesshewantwithmaps?Imean,whatdoesshewantthemfor?”
“Idon’tknow,”saidyoungLeonard,“Idon’tthinkshesaidexactly.”
“Iwondernow…”saidGriselda.“Itseemsveryfishytome…Atheragetheoldpetoughttogiveupthatsortofthing.”
Leonardaskedwhatsortofthing,andGriseldasaidelusively:
“Oh,pokinghernoseintothings.Whymaps,Iwonder?”
InduecourseMissMarplereceivedaletterfromhergreat-nephewDavidWest.Itranaffectionately:
DearAuntJane,—Nowwhatareyouupto?I’vegottheinformationyouwanted.Thereareonlytwotrainsthatcanpossiblyapply—the4:33andthe5o’clock.TheformerisaslowtrainandstopsatHalingBroadway,BarwellHeath,BrackhamptonandthenstationstoMarketBasing.The5o’clockistheWelshexpressforCardiff,NewportandSwansea.Theformermightbeovertakensomewherebythe4:50,althoughitisdueinBrackhamptonfiveminutesearlierandthelatterpassesthe4:50justbeforeBrackhampton.InallthisdoIsmellsomevillagescandalofafruitycharacter?Didyou,returningfromashoppingspreeintownbythe4:50,observeinapassingtrainthemayor’swifebeingembracedbytheSanitaryInspector?Butwhydoesitmatterwhichtrainitwas?AweekendatPorthcawlperhaps?Thankyouforthepullover.JustwhatIwanted.How’sthegarden?Notveryactivethistimeofyear,Ishouldimagine.Yoursever,David
MissMarplesmiledalittle,thenconsideredtheinformationthuspresentedtoher.Mrs.McGillicuddyhadsaiddefinitelythatthecarriagehadnotbeenacorridorone.Therefore—nottheSwanseaexpress.The4:33wasindicated.
Alsosomemoretravellingseemedunavoidable.MissMarplesighed,butmadeherplans.
ShewentuptoLondonasbeforeonthe12:15,butthistimereturnednotbythe4:50,butbythe4:33asfarasBrackhampton.Thejourneywasuneventful,butsheregisteredcertaindetails.Thetrainwasnotcrowded—4:33wasbeforetheeveningrushhour.Ofthefirst-classcarriagesonlyonehadanoccupant—averyoldgentlemanreadingtheNewStatesman.MissMarpletravelledinanemptycompartmentandatthetwostops,HalingBroadwayandBarwellHeath,leanedoutofthewindowtoobservepassengersenteringandleavingthetrain.Asmallnumberofthird-classpassengersgotinatHalingBroadway.AtBarwellHeathseveralthird-classpassengersgotout.Nobodyenteredorleftafirst-classcarriageexcepttheoldgentlemancarryinghisNewStatesman.
AsthetrainnearedBrackhampton,sweepingaroundacurveofline,MissMarplerosetoherfeetandstoodexperimentallywithherbacktothewindowoverwhichshehaddrawndowntheblind.
Yes,shedecided,theimpetusofthesuddencurvingofthelineandtheslackeningofspeeddidthrowoneoffone’sbalancebackagainstthewindowandtheblindmight,inconsequence,veryeasilyflyup.Shepeeredoutintothenight.ItwaslighterthanithadbeenwhenMrs.McGillicuddyhadmadethesamejourney—onlyjustdark,buttherewaslittletosee.Forobservationshemustmakeadaylightjourney.
Onthenextdayshewentupbytheearlymorningtrain,purchasedfourlinenpillow-cases(tut-tuttingattheprice!)soastocombineinvestigationwiththeprovisionofhouseholdnecessities,andreturnedbyatrainleavingPaddingtonattwelvefifteen.Againshewasaloneinafirst-classcarriage.“Thistaxation,”thoughtMissMarple,“that’swhatitis.Noonecanaffordtotravelfirstclassexceptbusinessmenintherushhours.Isupposebecausetheycanchargeittoexpenses.”
AboutaquarterofanhourbeforethetrainwasdueatBrackhampton,MissMarplegotoutthemapwithwhichLeonardhadsuppliedherandbegantoobservethecountry-side.Shehadstudiedthemapverycarefullybeforehand,andafternotingthenameofastationtheypassedthrough,shewassoonabletoidentifywhereshewasjustasthetrainbegantoslackenforacurve.Itwasaveryconsiderablecurveindeed.MissMarple,hernosegluedtothewindow,studiedthegroundbeneathher(thetrainwasrunningonafairlyhighembankment)withcloseattention.ShedividedherattentionbetweenthecountryoutsideandthemapuntilthetrainfinallyranintoBrackhampton.
ThatnightshewroteandpostedaletteraddressedtoMissFlorenceHill,4MadisonRoad,Brackhampton…Onthefollowingmorning,goingtotheCountylibrary,shestudiedaBrackhamptondirectoryandgazetteer,andaCountyhistory.
Nothingsofarhadcontradictedtheveryfaintandsketchyideathathadcometoher.Whatshehadimaginedwaspossible.Shewouldgonofurtherthanthat.
Butthenextstepinvolvedaction—agooddealofaction—thekindofactionforwhichshe,herself,wasphysicallyunfit.Ifhertheoryweretobedefinitelyprovedordisproved,shemustatthispointhavehelpfromsomeothersource.Thequestionwas—who?MissMarplereviewedvariousnamesandpossibilitiesrejectingthemallwithavexedshakeofthehead.Theintelligentpeopleonwhoseintelligenceshecouldrelywereallfartoobusy.Notonlyhadtheyallgotjobsofvaryingimportance,theirleisurehourswereusuallyapportionedlongbeforehand.Theunintelligentwhohadtimeontheirhandsweresimply,MissMarpledecided,nogood.
Sheponderedingrowingvexationandperplexity.
Thensuddenlyherforeheadcleared.Sheejaculatedaloudaname.
“Ofcourse!”saidMissMarple.“LucyEyelesbarrow!”
Four
ThenameofLucyEyelesbarrowhadalreadymadeitselffeltincertaincircles.
LucyEyelesbarrowwasthirty-two.ShehadtakenaFirstinMathematicsatOxford,wasacknowledgedtohaveabrilliantmindandwasconfidentlyexpectedtotakeupadistinguishedacademiccareer
ButLucyEyelesbarrow,inadditiontoscholarlybrilliance,hadacoreofgoodsoundcommonsense.Shecouldnotfailtoobservethatalifeofacademicdistinctionwassingularlyillrewarded.Shehadnodesirewhatevertoteachandshetookpleasureincontactswithmindsmuchlessbrilliantthanherown.Inshort,shehadatasteforpeople,allsortsofpeople—andnotthesamepeoplethewholetime.Shealso,quitefrankly,likedmoney.Togainmoneyonemustexploitshortage.
LucyEyelesbarrowhitatonceuponaveryseriousshortage—theshortageofanykindofskilleddomesticlabour.Totheamazementofherfriendsandfellow-scholars,LucyEyelesbarrowenteredthefieldofdomesticlabour.
Hersuccesswasimmediateandassured.Bynow,afteralapseofsomeyears,shewasknownallovertheBritishIsles.Itwasquitecustomaryforwivestosayjoyfullytohusbands,“Itwillbeallright.IcangowithyoutotheStates.I’vegotLucyEyelesbarrow!”ThepointofLucyEyelesbarrowwasthatonceshecameintoahouse,allworry,anxietyandhardworkwentoutofit.LucyEyelesbarrowdideverything,sawtoeverything,arrangedeverything.Shewasunbelievablycompetentineveryconceivablesphere.Shelookedafterelderlyparents,acceptedthecareofyoungchildren,nursedthesickly,cookeddivinely,gotonwellwithanyoldcrustedservantstheremighthappentobe(thereusuallyweren’t),wastactfulwithimpossiblepeople,soothedhabitualdrunkards,waswonderfulwithdogs.Bestofallshenevermindedwhatshedid.Shescrubbedthekitchenfloor,duginthegarden,cleanedupdogmesses,andcarriedcoals!
Oneofherruleswasnevertoacceptanengagementforanylonglengthoftime.Afortnightwasherusualperiod—amonthatmostunderexceptionalcircumstances.Forthatfortnightyouhadtopaytheearth!But,duringthatfortnight,yourlifewasheaven.Youcouldrelaxcompletely,goabroad,stayathome,doasyoupleased,securethatallwasgoingwellonthehomefrontinLucyEyelesbarrow’scapablehands.
Naturallythedemandforherserviceswasenormous.Shecouldhavebookedherselfupifshechoseforaboutthreeyearsahead.Shehadbeenofferedenormoussumstogoasapermanency.ButLucyhadnointentionofbeingapermanency,norwouldshebookherselfformorethansixmonthsahead.Andwithinthatperiod,unknowntoherclamouringclients,shealwayskeptcertainfreeperiodswhichenabledhereithertotakeashortluxuriousholiday(sinceshespentnothingotherwiseandwashandsomelypaidandkept)ortoacceptanypositionatshortnoticethathappenedtotakeherfancy,eitherbyreasonofitscharacter,orbecauseshe“likedthepeople.”Sinceshewasnowatlibertytopickandchooseamongstthevociferousclaimantsforherservices,shewentverylargelybypersonalliking.MerericheswouldnotbuyyoutheservicesofLucyEyelesbarrow.Shecouldpickandchooseandshedidpickandchoose.Sheenjoyedherlifeverymuchandfoundinitacontinualsourceofentertainment.
LucyEyelesbarrowreadandrereadtheletterfromMissMarple.ShehadmadeMissMarple’sacquaintancetwoyearsagowhenherserviceshadbeenretainedbyRaymondWest,thenovelist,togoandlookafterhisoldauntwhowasrecoveringfrompneumonia.LucyhadacceptedthejobandhadgonedowntoSt.MaryMead.ShehadlikedMissMarpleverymuch.AsforMissMarple,onceshehadcaughtaglimpseoutofherbedroomwindowofLucyEyelesbarrowreallytrenchingforsweetpeasintheproperway,shehadleanedbackonherpillowswithasighofrelief,eatenthetemptinglittlemealsthatLucyEyelesbarrowbroughttoher,andlistened,agreeablysurprised,tothetalestoldbyherelderlyirasciblemaidservantofhow“ItaughtthatMissEyelesbarrowacrochetpatternwhatshe’dneverheardof!Propergrateful,shewas.”Andhadsurprisedherdoctorbytherapidityofherconvalescence.
MissMarplewroteaskingifMissEyelesbarrowcouldundertakeacertaintaskforher—ratheranunusualone.PerhapsMissEyelesbarrowcouldarrangeameetingatwhichtheycoulddiscussthematter.
LucyEyelesbarrowfrownedforamomentortwoassheconsidered.Shewasinrealityfullybookedup.Butthewordunusual,andherrecollectionofMissMarple’spersonality,carriedthedayandsherangupMissMarplestraightawayexplainingthatshecouldnotcomedowntoSt.MaryMeadasshewasatthemomentworking,butthatshewasfreefrom2to4onthefollowingafternoonandcouldmeetMissMarpleanywhereinLondon.Shesuggestedherownclub,arathernondescriptestablishmentwhichhadtheadvantageofhavingseveralsmalldarkwritingroomswhichwereusuallyempty.
MissMarpleacceptedthesuggestionandonthefollowingdaythemeetingtookplace.
Greetingswereexchanged;LucyEyelesbarrowledherguesttothegloomiestofthewritingrooms,andsaid:“I’mafraidI’mratherbookedupjustatpresent,butperhapsyou’lltellmewhatitisyouwantmetoundertake?”
“It’sverysimple,really,”saidMissMarple.“Unusual,butsimple.Iwantyoutofindabody.”
ForamomentthesuspicioncrossedLucy’smindthatMissMarplewasmentallyunhinged,butsherejectedtheidea.MissMarplewaseminentlysane.Shemeantexactlywhatshehadsaid.
“Whatkindofabody?”askedLucyEyelesbarrowwithadmirablecomposure.
“Awoman’sbody,”saidMissMarple.“Thebodyofawomanwhowasmurdered—strangledactually—inatrain.”
Lucy’seyebrowsroseslightly.
“Well,that’scertainlyunusual.Tellmeaboutit.”
MissMarpletoldher.LucyEyelesbarrowlistenedattentively,withoutinterrupting.Attheendshesaid:
“Italldependsonwhatyourfriendsaw—orthoughtshesaw—?”
Sheleftthesentenceunfinishedwithaquestioninit.
“ElspethMcGillicuddydoesn’timaginethings,”saidMissMarple.“That’swhyI’mrelyingonwhatshesaid.IfithadbeenDorothyCartwright,now—itwouldhavebeenquiteadifferentmatter.Dorothyalwayshasagoodstory,andquiteoftenbelievesitherself,andthereisusuallyakindofbasisoftruthbutcertainlynomore.ButElspethisthekindofwomanwhofindsitveryhardtomakeherselfbelievethatanythingatallextraordinaryoroutofthewaycouldhappen.She’salmostunsuggestible,ratherlikegranite.”
“Isee,”saidLucythoughtfully.“Well,let’sacceptitall.WheredoIcomein?”
“Iwasverymuchimpressedbyyou,”saidMissMarple,“andyousee,Ihaven’tgotthephysicalstrengthnowadaystogetaboutanddothings.”
“Youwantmetomakeinquiries?Thatsortofthing?Butwon’tthepolicehavedoneallthat?Ordoyouthinktheyhavebeenjustslack?”
“Oh,no,”saidMissMarple.“Theyhaven’tbeenslack.It’sjustthatI’vegotatheoryaboutthewoman’sbody.It’sgottobesomewhere.Ifitwasn’tfoundinthetrain,thenitmusthavebeenpushedorthrownoutofthetrain—butithasn’tbeendiscoveredanywhereontheline.SoItravelleddownthesamewaytoseeiftherewasanywherewherethebodycouldhavebeenthrownoffthetrainandyetwouldn’thavebeenfoundontheline—andtherewas.TherailwaylinemakesabigcurvebeforegettingintoBrackhampton,ontheedgeofahighembankment.Ifabodywerethrownoutthere,whenthetrainwasleaningatanangle,Ithinkitwouldpitchrightdowntheembankment.”
“Butsurelyitwouldstillbefound—eventhere?”
“Oh,yes.Itwouldhavetobetakenaway…Butwe’llcometothatpresently.Here’stheplace—onthismap?”
LucybenttostudywhereMissMarple’sfingerpointed.
“ItisrightintheoutskirtsofBrackhamptonnow,”saidMissMarple,“butoriginallyitwasacountryhousewithextensiveparkandgroundsandit’sstillthere,untouched—ringedroundwithbuildingestatesandsmallsuburbanhouses.It’scalledRutherfordHall.ItwasbuiltbyamancalledCrackenthorpe,averyrichmanufacturer,in1884.TheoriginalCrackenthorpe’sson,anelderlyman,islivingtherestillwith,Iunderstand,adaughter.Therailwayencirclesquitehalfoftheproperty.”
“Andyouwantmetodo—what?”
MissMarplerepliedpromptly.
“Iwantyoutogetapostthere.Everyoneiscryingoutforefficientdomestichelp—Ishouldnotimagineitwouldbedifficult.”
“No,Idon’tsupposeitwouldbedifficult.”
“IunderstandthatMr.Crackenthorpeissaidlocallytobesomewhatofamiser.Ifyouacceptalowsalary,Iwillmakeituptotheproperfigurewhichshould,Ithink,berathermorethanthecurrentrate.”
“Becauseofthedifficulty?”
“Notthedifficultysomuchasthedanger.Itmight,youknow,bedangerous.It’sonlyrighttowarnyouofthat.”
“Idon’tknow,”saidLucypensively,“thattheideaofdangerwoulddeterme.”
“Ididn’tthinkitwould,”saidMissMarple.“You’renotthatkindofperson.”
“Idaresayyouthoughtitmightevenattractme?I’veencounteredverylittledangerinmylife.Butdoyoureallybelieveitmightbedangerous?”
“Somebody,”MissMarplepointedout,“hascommittedaverysuccessfulcrime.Therehasbeennohue-and-cry,norealsuspicion.Twoelderlyladieshavetoldaratherimprobablestory,thepolicehaveinvestigateditandfoundnothinginit.Soeverythingisniceandquiet.Idon’tthinkthatthissomebody,whoeverhemaybe,willcareaboutthematterbeingrakedup—especiallyifyouaresuccessful.”
“WhatdoIlookforexactly?”
“Anysignsalongtheembankment,ascrapofclothing,brokenbushes—thatkindofthing.”
Lucynodded.
“Andthen?”
“Ishallbequitecloseathand,”saidMissMarple.“Anoldmaidservantofmine,myfaithfulFlorence,livesinBrackhampton.Shehaslookedafterheroldparentsforyears.Theyarenowbothdead,andshetakesinlodgers—allmostrespectablepeople.Shehasarrangedformetohaveroomswithher.Shewilllookaftermemostdevotedly,andIfeelIshouldliketobecloseathand.Iwouldsuggestthatyoumentionyouhaveanelderlyauntlivingintheneighbourhood,andthatyouwantapostwithineasydistanceofher,andalsothatyoustipulateforareasonableamountofsparetimesothatyoucangoandseeheroften.”
AgainLucynodded.
“IwasgoingtoTaorminathedayaftertomorrow,”shesaid.“Theholidaycanwait.ButIcanonlypromisethreeweeks.Afterthat,Iambookedup.”
“Threeweeksshouldbeample,”saidMissMarple.“Ifwecan’tfindoutanythinginthreeweeks,wemightaswellgiveupthewholethingasamare’snest.”
MissMarpledeparted,andLucy,afteramoment’sreflection,rangupaRegistryOfficeinBrackhampton,themanageressofwhichsheknewverywell.Sheexplainedherdesireforapostintheneighbourhoodsoastobenearher“aunt.”Afterturningdown,withalittledifficultyandagooddealofingenuity,severalmoredesirableplaces,RutherfordHallwasmentioned.
“ThatsoundsexactlywhatIwant,”saidLucyfirmly.
TheRegistryOfficerangupMissCrackenthorpe,MissCrackenthorperangupLucy.
TwodayslaterLucyleftLondonenrouteforRutherfordHall.
II
Drivingherownsmallcar,LucyEyelesbarrowdrovethroughanimposingpairofvastirongates.Justinsidethemwaswhathadoriginallybeenasmalllodgewhichnowseemedcompletelyderelict,whetherthroughwardamage,ormerelythroughneglect,itwasdifficulttobesure.Alongwindingdriveledthroughlargegloomyclumpsofrhododendronsuptothehouse.LucycaughtherbreathinaslightgaspwhenshesawthehousewhichwasakindofminiatureWindsorCastle.Thestonestepsinfrontofthedoorcouldhavedonewithattentionandthegravelsweepwasgreenwithneglectedweeds.
Shepulledanold-fashionedwrought-ironbell,anditsclamoursoundedechoingawayinside.Aslatternlywoman,wipingherhandsonherapron,openedthedoorandlookedathersuspiciously.
“Expected,aren’tyou?”shesaid.“MissSomethingbarrow,shetoldme.”
“Quiteright,”saidLucy.
Thehousewasdesperatelycoldinside.Herguideledheralongadarkhallandopenedadoorontheright.RathertoLucy’ssurprise,itwasquiteapleasantsittingroom,withbooksandchintz-coveredchairs.
“I’lltellher,”saidthewoman,andwentawayshuttingthedoorafterhavinggivenLucyalookofprofounddisfavour.
Afterafewminutesthedooropenedagain.FromthefirstmomentLucydecidedthatshelikedEmmaCrackenthorpe.
Shewasamiddle-agedwomanwithnoveryoutstandingcharacteristics,neithergood-lookingnorplain,sensiblydressedintweedsandpullover,withdarkhairsweptbackfromherforehead,steadyhazeleyesandaverypleasantvoice.
Shesaid:“MissEyelesbarrow?”andheldoutherhand.
Thenshelookeddoubtful.
“Iwonder,”shesaid,“ifthispostisreallywhatyou’relookingfor?Idon’twantahousekeeper,youknow,tosupervisethings.Iwantsomeonetodothework.”
Lucysaidthatthatwaswhatmostpeopleneeded.
EmmaCrackenthorpesaidapologetically:
“Somanypeople,youknow,seemtothinkthatjustalittlelightdustingwillanswerthecase—butIcandoallthelightdustingmyself.”
“Iquiteunderstand,”saidLucy.“Youwantcookingandwashing-up,andhouseworkandstokingtheboiler.That’sallright.That’swhatIdo.I’mnotatallafraidofwork.”
“It’sabighouse,I’mafraid,andinconvenient.Ofcourseweonlyliveinaportionofit—myfatherandmyself,thatis.Heisratheraninvalid.Welivequitequietly,andthereisanAgastove.Ihaveseveralbrothers,buttheyarenothereveryoften.Twowomencomein,aMrs.Kidderinthemorning,andMrs.Hartthreedaysaweektodobrassesandthingslikethat.Youhaveyourowncar?”
“Yes.Itcanstandoutintheopenifthere’snowheretoputit.It’susedtoit.”
“Oh,thereareanyamountofoldstables.There’snotroubleaboutthat.”Shefrownedamoment,thensaid,“Eyelesbarrow—ratheranunusualname.SomefriendsofmineweretellingmeaboutaLucyEyelesbarrow—theKennedys?”
“Yes.IwaswiththeminNorthDevonwhenMrs.Kennedywashavingababy.”
EmmaCrackenthorpesmiled.
“Iknowtheysaidthey’dneverhadsuchawonderfultimeaswhenyouwerethereseeingtoeverything.ButIhadtheideathatyouwereterriblyexpensive.ThesumImentioned—”
“That’squiteallright,”saidLucy.“Iwantparticularly,yousee,tobenearBrackhampton.IhaveanelderlyauntinacriticalstateofhealthandIwanttobewithineasydistanceofher.That’swhythesalaryisasecondaryconsideration.Ican’taffordtodonothing.IfIcouldbesureofhavingsometimeoffmostdays?”
“Oh,ofcourse.Everyafternoon,tillsix,ifyoulike?”
“Thatseemsperfect.”
MissCrackenthorpehesitatedamomentbeforesaying:“Myfatheriselderlyandalittle—difficultsometimes.Heisverykeenoneconomy,andhesaysthingssometimesthatupsetpeople.Iwouldn’tlike—”
Lucybrokeinquickly:
“I’mquiteusedtoelderlypeople,ofallkinds,”shesaid.“Ialwaysmanagetogetonwellwiththem.”EmmaCrackenthorpelookedrelieved.
“Troublewithfather!”diagnosedLucy.“Ibethe’sanoldtartar.”
Shewasapportionedalargegloomybedroomwhichasmallelectricheaterdiditsinadequatebesttowarm,andwasshownroundthehouse,avastuncomfortablemansion.Astheypassedadoorinthehallavoiceroaredout:
“Thatyou,Emma?Gotthenewgirlthere?Bringherin.Iwanttolookather.”
Emmaflushed,glancedatLucyapologetically.
Thetwowomenenteredtheroom.Itwasrichlyupholsteredindarkvelvet,thenarrowwindowsletinverylittlelight,anditwasfullofheavymahoganyVictorianfurniture.
OldMr.Crackenthorpewasstretchedoutinaninvalidchair,asilver-headedstickbyhisside.
Hewasabiggauntman,hisfleshhanginginloosefolds.Hehadafaceratherlikeabulldog,withapugnaciouschin.Hehadthickdarkhairfleckedwithgrey,andsmallsuspiciouseyes.
“Let’shavealookatyou,younglady.”
Lucyadvanced,composedandsmiling.
“There’sjustonethingyou’dbetterunderstandstraightaway.Justbecauseweliveinabighousedoesn’tmeanwe’rerich.We’renotrich.Welivesimply—doyouhear?—simply!Nogoodcomingherewithalotofhigh-falutinideas.Cod’sasgoodafishasturbotanyday,anddon’tyouforgetit.Idon’tstandforwaste.IliveherebecausemyfatherbuiltthehouseandIlikeit.AfterI’mdeadtheycansellitupiftheywantto—andIexpecttheywillwantto.Nosenseoffamily.Thishouseiswellbuilt—it’ssolid,andwe’vegotourownlandaroundus.Keepsusprivate.ItwouldbringinalotifsoldforbuildinglandbutnotwhileI’malive.Youwon’tgetmeoutofhereuntilyoutakemeoutfeetfirst.”
HeglaredatLucy.
“Yourhomeisyourcastle,”saidLucy
“Laughingatme?”
“Ofcoursenot.Ithinkit’sveryexcitingtohavearealcountryplaceallsurroundedbytown.”
“Quiteso.Can’tseeanotherhousefromhere,canyou?Fieldswithcowsinthem—rightinthemiddleofBrackhampton.Youhearthetrafficabitwhenthewind’sthatway—butotherwiseit’sstillcountry.”
Headded,withoutpauseorchangeoftone,tohisdaughter:
“Ringupthatdamn’foolofadoctor.Tellhimthatlastmedicine’snogoodatall.”
LucyandEmmaretired.Heshoutedafterthem:
“Anddon’tletthatdamnedwomanwhosniffsdustinhere.She’sdisarrangedallmybooks.”
Lucyasked:
“HasMr.Crackenthorpebeenaninvalidlong?”
Emmasaid,ratherevasively:
“Oh,foryearsnow…Thisisthekitchen.”
Thekitchenwasenormous.Avastkitchenrangestoodcoldandneglected.AnAgastooddemurelybesideit.
Lucyaskedtimesofmealsandinspectedthelarder.ThenshesaidcheerfullytoEmmaCrackenthorpe:
“Iknoweverythingnow.Don’tbother.Leaveitalltome.”
EmmaCrackenthorpeheavedasighofreliefasshewentuptobedthatnight.
“TheKennedyswerequiteright,”shesaid.“She’swonderful.”
Lucyroseatsixthenextmorning.Shedidthehouse,preparedvegetables,assembled,cookedandservedbreakfast.WithMrs.Kiddershemadethebedsandateleveno’clocktheysatdowntostrongteaandbiscuitsinthekitchen.MollifiedbythefactthatLucy“hadnoairsabouther,”andalsobythestrengthandsweetnessofthetea,Mrs.Kidderrelaxedintogossip.Shewasasmallsparewomanwithasharpeyeandtightlips.
“Regularoldskinflintheis.Whatshehastoputupwith!Allthesame,she’snotwhatIcalldown-trodden.Canholdherownallrightwhenshehasto.Whenthegentlemencomedownsheseestoitthere’ssomethingdecenttoeat.”
“Thegentlemen?”
“Yes.Bigfamilyitwas.Theeldest,Mr.Edmund,hewaskilledinthewar.Thenthere’sMr.Cedric,helivesabroadsomewhere.He’snotmarried.Paintspicturesinforeignparts.Mr.Harold’sintheCity,livesinLondon—marriedanearl’sdaughter.Thenthere’sMr.Alfred,he’sgotanicewaywithhim,buthe’sabitofablack-sheep,beenintroubleonceortwice—andthere’sMissEdith’shusband,Mr.Bryan,eversonice,heis—shediedsomeyearsago,buthe’salwaysstayedoneofthefamily,andthere’sMasterAlexander,MissEdith’slittleboy.He’satschool,comeshereforpartoftheholidaysalways;MissEmma’sterriblysetonhim.”
Lucydigestedallthisinformation,continuingtopressteaonherinformant.Finally,reluctantly,Mrs.Kidderrosetoherfeet.
“Seemtohavegotalongatreat,wedo,thismorning,”shesaidwonderingly.“Wantmetogiveyouahandwiththepotatoes,dear?”
“They’realldoneready.”
“Well,youareaoneforgettingonwiththings!Imightaswellbegettingalongmyselfastheredoesn’tseemanythingelsetodo.”
Mrs.KidderdepartedandLucy,withtimeonherhands,scrubbedthekitchentablewhichshehadbeenlongingtodo,butwhichshehadputoffsoasnottooffendMrs.Kidderwhosejobitproperlywas.Thenshecleanedthesilvertillitshoneradiantly.Shecookedlunch,cleareditaway,washeditup,andattwo-thirtywasreadytostartexploration.Shehadsetouttheteathingsreadyonatray,withsandwichesandbreadandbuttercoveredwithadampnapkintokeepthemmoist.
Shestrolledroundthegardenswhichwouldbethenormalthingtodo.Thekitchengardenwassketchilycultivatedwithafewvegetables.Thehot-houseswereinruins.Thepathseverywherewereovergrownwithweeds.AherbaceousbordernearthehousewastheonlythingthatshowedfreeofweedsandingoodconditionandLucysuspectedthatthathadbeenEmma’shand.Thegardenerwasaveryoldman,somewhatdeaf,whowasonlymakingashowofworking.Lucyspoketohimpleasantly.Helivedinacottageadjacenttothebigstableyard.
Leadingoutofthestableyardabackdriveledthroughtheparkwhichwasfencedoffoneithersideofit,andunderarailwayarchintoasmallbacklane.
Everyfewminutesatrainthunderedalongthemainlineovertherailwayarch.LucywatchedthetrainsastheyslackenedspeedgoingroundthesharpcurvethatencircledtheCrackenthorpeproperty.Shepassedundertherailwayarchandoutintothelane.Itseemedalittle-usedtrack.Ontheonesidewastherailwayembankment,ontheotherwasahighwallwhichenclosedsometallfactorybuildings.Lucyfollowedthelaneuntilitcameoutintoastreetofsmallhouses.Shecouldhearashortdistanceawaythebusyhumofmainroadtraffic.Sheglancedatherwatch.AwomancameoutofahousenearbyandLucystoppedher.
“Excuseme,canyoutellmeifthereisapublictelephonenearhere?”
“Postofficejustatthecorneroftheroad.”
LucythankedherandwalkedalonguntilshecametothePostOfficewhichwasacombinationshopandpostoffice.Therewasatelephoneboxatoneside.Lucywentintoitandmadeacall.SheaskedtospeaktoMissMarple.Awoman’svoicespokeinasharpbark.
“She’sresting.AndI’mnotgoingtodisturbher!!Sheneedsherrest—she’sanoldlady.WhoshallIsaycalled?”
“MissEyelesbarrow.There’snoneedtodisturbher.JusttellherthatI’vearrivedandeverythingisgoingonwellandthatI’llletherknowwhenI’veanynews.”
ShereplacedthereceiverandmadeherwaybacktoRutherfordHall.
Five
“IsupposeitwillbeallrightifIjustpractiseafewironshotsinthepark?”askedLucy.
“Oh,yes,certainly.Areyoufondofgolf?”
“I’mnotmuchgood,butIliketokeepinpractice.It’samoreagreeableformofexercisethanjustgoingforawalk.”
“Nowheretowalkoutsidethisplace,”growledMr.Crackenthorpe.“Nothingbutpavementsandmiserablelittlebandboxesofhouses.Liketogetholdofmylandandbuildmoreofthem.Buttheywon’tuntilI’mdead.AndI’mnotgoingtodietoobligeanybody.Icantellyouthat!Nottoobligeanybody!”
EmmaCrackenthorpesaidmildly:
“Now,Father.”
“Iknowwhattheythink—andwhatthey’rewaitingfor.Allof’em.Cedric,andthatslyfoxHaroldwithhissmugface.AsforAlfred,Iwonderhehasn’thadashotatbumpingmeoffhimself.Notsurehedidn’t,atChristmas-time.ThatwasaveryoddturnIhad.PuzzledoldQuimper.Heaskedmealotofdiscreetquestions.”
“Everyonegetsthesedigestiveupsetsnowandagain,Father.”
“Allright,allright,saystraightoutthatIatetoomuch!That’swhatyoumean.AndwhydidIeattoomuch?Becausetherewastoomuchfoodonthetable,fartoomuch.Wastefulandextravagant.Andthatremindsme—you,youngwoman.Fivepotatoesyousentinforlunch—good-sizedonestoo.Twopotatoesareenoughforanybody.Sodon’tsendinmorethanfourinfuture.Theextraonewaswastedtoday.”
“Itwasn’twasted,Mr.Crackenthorpe.I’veplannedtouseitinaSpanishomelettetonight.”
“Urgh!”AsLucywentoutoftheroomcarryingthecoffeetraysheheardhimsay,“Slickyoungwoman,that,alwaysgotalltheanswers.Cookswell,though—andshe’sahandsomekindofgirl.”
LucyEyelesbarrowtookalightironoutofthesetofgolfclubsshehadhadtheforethoughttobringwithher,andstrolledoutintothepark,climbingoverthefence.
Shebeganplayingaseriesofshots.Afterfiveminutesorso,aball,apparentlysliced,pitchedonthesideoftherailwayembankment.Lucywentupandbegantohuntaboutforit.Shelookedbacktowardsthehouse.Itwasalongwayawayandnobodywasintheleastinterestedinwhatshewasdoing.Shecontinuedtohuntfortheball.Nowandthensheplayedshotsfromtheembankmentdownintothegrass.Duringtheafternoonshesearchedaboutathirdoftheembankment.Nothing.Sheplayedherballbacktowardsthehouse.
Then,onthenextday,shecameuponsomething.Athornbushgrowingabouthalfwayupthebankhadbeensnappedoff.Bitsofitlayscatteredabout.Lucyexaminedthetreeitself.Impaledononeofthethornswasatornscrapoffur.Itwasalmostthesamecolourasthewood,apalebrownishcolour.Lucylookedatitforamoment,thenshetookapairofscissorsoutofherpocketandsnippeditcarefullyinhalf.Thehalfshehadsnippedoffsheputinanenvelopewhichshehadinherpocket.Shecamedownthesteepslopesearchingaboutforanythingelse.Shelookedcarefullyattheroughgrassofthefield.Shethoughtshecoulddistinguishakindoftrackwhichsomeonehadmadewalkingthroughthelonggrass.Butitwasveryfaint—notnearlysoclearasherowntrackswere.Itmusthavebeenmadesometimeagoanditwastoosketchyforhertobesurethatitwasnotmerelyimaginationonherpart.
Shebegantohuntcarefullydowninthegrassatthefootoftheembankmentjustbelowthebrokenthornbush.Presentlyhersearchwasrewarded.Shefoundapowdercompact,asmallcheapenamelledaffair.Shewrappeditinherhandkerchiefandputitinherpocket.Shesearchedonbutdidnotfindanythingmore
Onthefollowingafternoon,shegotintohercarandwenttoseeherinvalidaunt.EmmaCrackenthorpesaidkindly,“Don’thurryback.Weshan’twantyouuntildinner-time.”
“Thankyou,butIshallbebackbysixatthelatest.”
No.4MadisonRoadwasasmalldrabhouseinasmalldrabstreet.IthadverycleanNottinghamlacecurtains,ashiningwhitedoorstepandawell-polishedbrassdoorhandle.Thedoorwasopenedbyatall,grim-lookingwoman,dressedinblackwithalargeknobofiron-greyhair.
SheeyedLucyinsuspiciousappraisalassheshowedherintoMissMarple.
MissMarplewasoccupyingthebacksittingroomwhichlookedoutontoasmalltidysquareofgarden.Itwasaggressivelycleanwithalotofmatsanddoilies,agreatmanychinaornaments,aratherbigJacobeansuiteandtwofernsinpots.MissMarplewassittinginabigchairbythefirebusilyengagedincrocheting
Lucycameinandshutthedoor.ShesatdowninthechairfacingMissMarple.
“Well!”shesaid.“Itlooksasthoughyouwereright.”
Sheproducedherfindsandgavedetailsoftheirfinding.
AfaintflushofachievementcameintoMissMarple’scheeks.
“Perhapsoneoughtnottofeelso,”shesaid,“butitisrathergratifyingtoformatheoryandgetproofthatitiscorrect!”
Shefingeredthesmalltuftoffur.“Elspethsaidthewomanwaswearingalight-colouredfurcoat.Isupposethecompactwasinthepocketofthecoatandfelloutasthebodyrolleddowntheslope.Itdoesn’tseemdistinctiveinanyway,butitmayhelp.Youdidn’ttakeallthefur?”
“No,Ilefthalfofitonthethornbush.”
MissMarplenoddedapproval.
“Quiteright.Youareveryintelligent,mydear.Thepolicewillwanttocheckexactly.”
“Youaregoingtothepolice—withthesethings?”
“Well—notquiteyet…”MissMarpleconsidered:“Itwouldbebetter,Ithink,tofindthebodyfirst.Don’tyou?”
“Yes,butisn’tthatratheratallorder?Imean,grantingthatyourestimateiscorrect.Themurdererpushedthebodyoutofthetrain,thenpresumablygotouthimselfatBrackhamptonandatsometime—probablythatsamenight—camealongandremovedthebody.Butwhathappenedafterthat?Hemayhavetakenitanywhere.”
“Notanywhere,”saidMissMarple.“Idon’tthinkyou’vefollowedthethingtoitslogicalconclusion,mydearMissEyelesbarrow.”
“DocallmeLucy.Whynotanywhere?”
“Because,ifso,hemightmuchmoreeasilyhavekilledthegirlinsomelonelyspotanddriventhebodyawayfromthere.Youhaven’tappreciated—”
Lucyinterrupted.
“Areyousaying—doyoumean—thatthiswasapremeditatedcrime?”
“Ididn’tthinksoatfirst,”saidMissMarple.“Onewouldn’t—naturally.Itseemedlikeaquarrelandamanlosingcontrolandstranglingthegirlandthenbeingfacedwiththeproblemwhichhehadtosolvewithinafewminutes.Butitreallyistoomuchofacoincidencethatheshouldkillthegirlinafitofpassion,andthenlookoutofthewindowandfindthetrainwasgoingroundacurveexactlyataspotwherehecouldtipthebodyout,andwherehecouldbesureoffindinghiswaylaterandremovingit!Ifhe’djustthrownherouttherebychance,he’dhavedonenomoreaboutit,andthebodywould,longbeforenow,havebeenfound.”
Shepaused.Lucystaredather.
“Youknow,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully,“it’sreallyquiteacleverwaytohaveplannedacrime—andIthinkitwasverycarefullyplanned.There’ssomethingsoanonymousaboutatrain.Ifhe’dkilledherintheplacewhereshelived,orwasstaying,somebodymighthavenoticedhimcomeorgo.Orifhe’ddrivenheroutinthecountrysomewhere,someonemighthavenoticedthecaranditsnumberandmake.Butatrainisfullofstrangerscomingandgoing.Inanon-corridorcarriage,alonewithher,itwasquiteeasy—especiallyifyourealizethatheknewexactlywhathewasgoingtodonext.Heknew—hemusthaveknown—allaboutRutherfordHall—itsgeographicalposition,Imean,itsqueerisolation—anislandboundedbyrailwaylines.”
“Itisexactlylikethat,”saidLucy.“It’sananachronismoutofthepast.Bustlingurbanlifegoesonallaroundit,butdoesn’ttouchit.Thetradespeopledeliverinthemorningsandthat’sall.”
“Soweassume,asyousaid,thatthemurderercomestoRutherfordHallthatnight.Itisalreadydarkwhenthebodyfallsandnooneislikelytodiscoveritbeforethenextday.”
“No,indeed.”
“Themurdererwouldcome—how?Inacar?Whichway?”
Lucyconsidered.
“There’saroughlane,alongsideafactorywall.He’dprobablycomethatway,turninundertherailwayarchandalongthebackdrive.Thenhecouldclimbthefence,goalongatthefootoftheembankment,findthebody,andcarryitbacktothecar.”
“Andthen,”continuedMissMarple,“hetookittosomeplacehehadalreadychosenbeforehand.Thiswasallthoughtout,youknow.AndIdon’tthink,asIsay,thathewouldtakeitawayfromRutherfordHall,orifso,notveryfar.Theobviousthing,Isuppose,wouldbetoburyitsomewhere?”ShelookedinquiringlyatLucy.
“Isupposeso,”saidLucyconsidering.“Butitwouldn’tbequiteaseasyasitsounds.”
MissMarpleagreed.
“Hecouldn’tburyitinthepark.Toohardworkandverynoticeable.Somewherewheretheearthwasturnedalready?”
“Thekitchengarden,perhaps,butthat’sveryclosetothegardener’scottage.He’soldanddeaf—butstillitmightberisky.”
“Isthereadog?”
“No.”
“Theninashed,perhaps,oranouthouse?”
“Thatwouldbesimplerandquicker…Therearealotofunusedoldbuildings;brokendownpigsties,harnessrooms,workshopsthatnobodyevergoesnear.Orhemightperhapsthrustitintoaclumpofrhododendronsorshrubssomewhere.”
MissMarplenodded.
“Yes,Ithinkthat’smuchmoreprobable.”
TherewasaknockonthedoorandthegrimFlorencecameinwithatray.
“Niceforyoutohaveavisitor,”shesaidtoMissMarple,“I’vemadeyoumyspecialsconesyouusedtolike.”
“Florencealwaysmadethemostdeliciousteacakes,”saidMissMarple.
Florence,gratified,creasedherfeaturesintoatotallyunexpectedsmileandlefttheroom.
“Ithink,mydear,”saidMissMarple,“wewon’ttalkanymoreaboutmurderduringtea.Suchanunpleasantsubject!”
II
Aftertea,Lucyrose.
“I’llbegettingback,”shesaid.“AsI’vealreadytoldyou,there’snooneactuallylivingatRutherfordHallwhocouldbethemanwe’relookingfor.There’sonlyanoldmanandamiddle-agedwoman,andanolddeafgardener.”
“Ididn’tsayhewasactuallylivingthere,”saidMissMarple.“AllImeanis,thathe’ssomeonewhoknowsRutherfordHallverywell.Butwecangointothatafteryou’vefoundthebody.”
“YouseemtoassumequiteconfidentlythatIshallfindit,”saidLucy.“Idon’tfeelnearlysooptimistic.”
“I’msureyouwillsucceed,mydearLucy.Youaresuchanefficientperson.”
“Insomeways,butIhaven’thadanyexperienceinlookingforbodies.”
“I’msureallitneedsisalittlecommonsense,”saidMissMarpleencouragingly.
Lucylookedather,thenlaughed.MissMarplesmiledbackather.
Lucysettoworksystematicallythenextafternoon.
Shepokedroundouthouses,proddedthebriarswhichwreathedtheoldpigsties,andwaspeeringintotheboilerroomunderthegreenhousewhensheheardadrycoughandturnedtofindoldHillman,thegardener,lookingatherdisapprovingly.
“Youbecarefulyoudon’tgetanastyfall,miss,”hewarnedher.“Themstepsisn’tsafe,andyouwasupintheloftjustnowandthefloorthereain’tsafeneither.”
Lucywascarefultodisplaynoembarrassment.
“IexpectyouthinkI’mverynosy,”shesaidcheerfully.“Iwasjustwonderingifsomethingcouldn’tbemadeoutofthisplace—growingmushroomsforthemarket,thatsortofthing.Everythingseemstohavebeenletgoterribly.”
“That’sthemaster,thatis.Won’tspendapenny.Oughttohavetwomenandaboyhere,Iought,tokeeptheplaceproper,butwon’thearofit,hewon’t.HadallIcoulddotomakehimgetamotormower.Wantedmetomowallthatfrontgrassbyhand,hedid.”
“Butiftheplacecouldbemadetopay—withsomerepairs?”
“Won’tgetaplacelikethistopay—toofargone.Andhewouldn’tcareaboutthat,anyway.Onlycaresaboutsaving.Knowswellenoughwhat’llhappenafterhe’sgone—theyounggentlemen’llsellupasfastastheycan.Onlywaitingforhimtopopoff,theyare.Goingtocomeintoatidylotofmoneywhenhedies,soI’veheard.”
“Isupposehe’saveryrichman?”saidLucy.
“Crackenthorpe’sFancies,that’swhattheyare.Theoldgentlemanstartedit,Mr.Crackenthorpe’sfather.Asharponehewas,byallaccounts.Madehisfortune,andbuiltthisplace.Hardasnails,theysay,andneverforgotaninjury.Butwithallthat,hewasopen-handed.Nothingofthemiserabouthim.Disappointedinbothhissons,sothestorygoes.Give’emaneducationandbrought’emuptobegentlemen—Oxfordandall.Buttheyweretoomuchofgentlementowanttogointothebusiness.Theyoungeronemarriedanactressandthensmashedhimselfupinacaraccidentwhenhe’dbeendrinking.Theelderone,ouronehere,hisfatherneverfanciedsomuch.Abroadalot,hewas,boughtalotofheathenstatuesandhadthemsenthome.Wasn’tsoclosewithhismoneywhenhewasyoung—comeonhimmoreinmiddleage,itdid.No,theyneverdidhititoff,himandhisfather,soI’veheard.”
Lucydigestedthisinformationwithanairofpoliteinterest.Theoldmanleantagainstthewallandpreparedtogoonwithhissaga.Hemuchpreferredtalkingtodoinganywork.
“Diedbeforethewar,theoldgentlemandid.Terribletemperhehad.Didn’tdotogivehimanycause,hewouldn’tstandforit.”
“Andafterhedied,thisMr.Crackenthorpecameandlivedhere?”
“Himandhisfamily,yes.Nighgrownuptheywasbythen.”
“Butsurely…Oh,Isee,youmeanthe1914war.”
“No,Idon’t.Diedin1928,that’swhatImean.”
Lucysupposedthat1928qualifiedas“beforethewar”thoughitwasnotthewayshewouldhavedescribeditherself
Shesaid:“Well,Iexpectyou’llbewantingtogoonwithyourwork.Youmustn’tletmekeepyou.”
“Ar,”saidoldHillmanwithoutenthusiasm,“notmuchyoucandothistimeofday.Light’stoobad.”
Lucywentbacktothehouse,pausingtoinvestigatealikely-lookingcopseofbirchandazaleaonherway.
ShefoundEmmaCrackenthorpestandinginthehallreadingaletter.Theafternoonposthadjustbeendelivered.
“Mynephewwillbeheretomorrow—withaschool-friend.Alexander’sroomistheoneovertheporch.TheonenexttoitwilldoforJamesStoddart-West.They’llusethebathroomjustopposite.”
“Yes,MissCrackenthorpe.I’llseetheroomsareprepared.”
“They’llarriveinthemorningbeforelunch.”Shehesitated.“Iexpectthey’llbehungry.”
“Ibettheywill,”saidLucy.“Roastbeef,doyouthink?Andperhapstreacletart?”
“Alexander’sveryfondoftreacletart.”
Thetwoboysarrivedonthefollowingmorning.Theybothhadwell-brushedhair,suspiciouslyangelicfaces,andperfectmanners.AlexanderEastleyhadfairhairandblueeyes,Stoddart-Westwasdarkandspectacled.
Theydiscoursedgravelyduringlunchoneventsinthesportingworld,withoccasionalreferencestothelatestspacefiction.Theirmannerwasthatofelderlyprofessorsdiscussingpalaeolithicimplements.Incomparisonwiththem,Lucyfeltquiteyoung.
Thesirloinofbeefvanishedinnotimeandeverycrumboftreacletartwasconsumed.
Mr.Crackenthorpegrumbled:“Youtwowilleatmeoutofhouseandhome.”
Alexandergavehimablue-eyedreprovingglance.
“We’llhavebreadandcheeseifyoucan’taffordmeat,Grandfather.”
“Affordit?Icanaffordit.Idon’tlikewaste.”
“Wehaven’twastedany,sir,”saidStoddart-West,lookingdownathisplacewhichborecleartestimonyofthatfact.
“YouboysbotheattwiceasmuchasIdo.”
“We’reatthebody-buildingstage,”Alexanderexplained.“Weneedabigintakeofproteins.”
Theoldmangrunted.
Asthetwoboysleftthetable,LucyheardAlexandersayapologeticallytohisfriend:
“Youmustn’tpayanyattentiontomygrandfather.He’sonadietorsomethingandthatmakeshimratherpeculiar.He’sterriblymean,too.Ithinkitmustbeacomplexofsomekind.”
Stoddart-Westsaidcomprehendingly:
“Ihadanauntwhokeptthinkingshewasgoingbankrupt.Really,shehadoodlesofmoney.Pathological,thedoctorsaid.Haveyougotthatfootball,Alex?”
Aftershehadclearedawayandwasheduplunch,Lucywentout.Shecouldheartheboyscallingoutinthedistanceonthelawn.Sheherselfwentintheoppositedirection,downthefrontdriveandfromthereshestruckacrosstosomeclumpedmassesofrhododendronbushes.Shebegantohuntcarefully,holdingbacktheleavesandpeeringinside.Shemovedfromclumptoclumpsystematically,andwasrakinginsidewithagolfclubwhenthepolitevoiceofAlexanderEastleymadeherstart.
“Areyoulookingforsomething,MissEyelesbarrow?”
“Agolfball,”saidLucypromptly.“Severalgolfballsinfact.I’vebeenpractisinggolfshotsmostafternoonsandI’velostquitealotofballs.IthoughtthattodayIreallymustfindsomeofthem.”
“We’llhelpyou,”saidAlexanderobligingly.
“That’sverykindofyou.Ithoughtyouwereplayingfootball.”
“Onecan’tgoonplayingfooter,”explainedStoddart-West.“Onegetstoohot.Doyouplayalotofgolf?”
“I’mquitefondofit.Idon’tgetmuchopportunity.”
“Isupposeyoudon’t.Youdothecookinghere,don’tyou?”
“Yes.”
“Didyoucookthelunchtoday?”
“Yes.Wasitallright?”
“Simplywizard,”saidAlexander.“Wegetawfulmeatatschool,alldriedup.Ilovebeefthat’spinkandjuicyinside.Thattreacletartwasprettysmashing,too.”
“Youmusttellmewhatthingsyoulikebest.”
“Couldwehaveapplemeringueoneday?It’smyfavouritething.”
“Ofcourse.”
Alexandersighedhappily.
“There’saclockgolfsetunderthestairs,”hesaid.“Wecouldfixituponthelawnanddosomeputting.Whataboutit,Stodders?”
“Good-oh!”saidStoddart-West.
“Heisn’treallyAustralian,”explainedAlexandercourteously.“Buthe’spractisingtalkingthatwayincasehispeopletakehimouttoseetheTestMatchnextyear.”
EncouragedbyLucy,theywentofftogettheclockgolfset.Later,asshereturnedtothehouse,shefoundthemsettingitoutonthelawnandarguingaboutthepositionofthenumbers.
“Wedon’twantitlikeaclock,”saidStoddart-West.“That’skid’sstuff.Wewanttomakeacourseofit.Longholesandshortones.It’sapitythenumbersaresorusty.Youcanhardlyseethem.”
“Theyneedalickofwhitepaint,”saidLucy.“Youmightgetsometomorrowandpaintthem.”
“Goodidea.”Alexander’sfacelitup.“Isay,IbelievetherearesomeoldpotsofpaintintheLongBarn—lefttherebythepainterslasthols.Shallwesee?”
“What’stheLongBarn?”askedLucy.
Alexanderpointedtoalongstonebuildingalittlewayfromthehousenearthebackdrive.
“It’squiteold,”hesaid.“GrandfathercallsitaLeakBarnandsaysitsElizabethan,butthat’sjustswank.Itbelongedtothefarmthatwashereoriginally.Mygreat-grandfatherpulleditdownandbuiltthisawfulhouseinstead.”
Headded:“Alotofgrandfather’scollectionisinthebarn.Thingshehadsenthomefromabroadwhenhewasayoungman.Mostofthemareprettyawful,too.TheLongBarnisusedsometimesforwhistdrivesandthingslikethat.Women’sInstitutestuff.AndConservativeSalesofWork.Comeandseeit.”
Lucyaccompaniedthemwillingly.
Therewasabignail-studdedoakdoortothebarn.Alexanderraisedhishandanddetachedakeyonanailjustundersomeivytotherighthandofthetopofthedoor.Heturneditinthelock,pushedthedooropenandtheywentin.
AtafirstglanceLucyfeltthatshewasinasingularlybadmuseum.TheheadsoftwoRomanemperorsinmarbleglaredatheroutofbulgingeyeballs,therewasahugesarcophagusofadecadentGreco-Romanperiod,asimperingVenusstoodonapedestalclutchingherfallingdraperies.Besidestheseworksofart,therewereacoupleoftrestletables,somestacked-upchairs,andsundryoddmentssuchasarustedhandmower,twobuckets,acoupleofmotheatencarseats,andagreenpaintedirongardenseatthathadlostaleg.
“IthinkIsawthepaintoverhere,”saidAlexandervaguely.Hewenttoacornerandpulledasideatatteredcurtainthatshutitoff.
Theyfoundacoupleofpaintpotsandbrushes,thelatterdryandstiff.
“Youreallyneedsometurps,”saidLucy.
Theycouldnot,however,findanyturpentine.Theboyssuggestedbicyclingofftogetsome,andLucyurgedthemtodoso.Paintingtheclockgolfnumberswouldkeepthemamusedforsometime,shethought.
Theboyswentoff,leavingherinthebarn.
“Thisreallycoulddowithaclearup,”shehadmurmured.
“Ishouldn’tbother,”Alexanderadvisedher.“Itgetscleanedupifit’sgoingtobeusedforanything,butit’spracticallyneverusedthistimeofyear.”
“DoIhangthekeyupoutsidethedooragain?Isthatwhereit’skept?”
“Yes.There’snothingtopinchhere,yousee.Nobodywouldwantthoseawfulmarblethingsand,anyway,theyweighaton.”
Lucyagreedwithhim.ShecouldhardlyadmireoldMr.Crackenthorpe’stasteinart.Heseemedtohaveanunerringinstinctforselectingtheworstspecimenofanyperiod.
Shestoodlookingroundheraftertheboyshadgone.Hereyescametorestonthesarcophagusandstayedthere.
Thatsarcophagus….
Theairinthebarnwasfaintlymustyasthoughunairedforalongtime.Shewentovertothesarcophagus.Ithadaheavyclose-fittinglid.Lucylookedatitspeculatively.
Thensheleftthebarn,wenttothekitchen,foundaheavycrowbar,andreturned.
Itwasnotaneasytask,butLucytoileddoggedly.
Slowlythelidbegantorise,prisedupbythecrowbar.
ItrosesufficientlyforLucytoseewhatwasinside….
Six
I
AfewminuteslaterLucy,ratherpale,leftthebarn,lockedthedoorandputthekeybackonthenail.
Shewentrapidlytothestables,gotouthercaranddrovedownthebackdrive.Shestoppedatthepostofficeattheendoftheroad.Shewentintothetelephonebox,putinthemoneyanddialled.
“IwanttospeaktoMissMarple.”
“She’sresting,miss.It’sMissEyelesbarrow,isn’tit?”
“Yes.”
“I’mnotgoingtodisturbherandthat’sthat,miss.She’sanoldladyandsheneedsherrest.”
“Youmustdisturbher.It’surgent.”
“I’mnot—”
“PleasedowhatIsayatonce.”
Whenshechose,Lucy’svoicecouldbeasincisiveassteel.Florenceknewauthoritywhensheheardit.
PresentlyMissMarple’svoicespoke.
“Yes,Lucy?”
Lucydrewadeepbreath.
“Youwerequiteright,”shesaid.“I’vefoundit.”
“Awoman’sbody?”
“Yes.Awomaninafurcoat.It’sastonesarcophagusinakindofbarn-cum-museumnearthehouse.Whatdoyouwantmetodo?Ioughttoinformthepolice,Ithink.”
“Yes.Youmustinformthepolice.Atonce.”
“Butwhatabouttherestofit?Aboutyou?Thefirstthingthey’llwanttoknowiswhyIwaspryingupalidthatweighstonsforapparentlynoreason.Doyouwantmetoinventareason?Ican.”
“No.Ithink,youknow,”saidMissMarpleinhergentleseriousvoice,“thattheonlythingtodoistotelltheexacttruth.”
“Aboutyou?”
“Abouteverything.”
AsuddengrinsplitthewhitenessofLucy’sface.
“Thatwillbequitesimpleforme,”shesaid.“ButIimaginethey’llfinditquitehardtobelieve!”
Sherangoff,waitedamoment,andthenrangandgotthepolicestation.
“IhavejustdiscoveredadeadbodyinasarcophagusintheLongBarnatRutherfordHall.”
“What’sthat?”
Lucyrepeatedherstatementandanticipatingthenextquestiongavehername.
Shedroveback,putthecarawayandenteredthehouse.
Shepausedinthehallforamoment,thinking.
ThenshegaveabriefsharpnodoftheheadandwenttothelibrarywhereMissCrackenthorpewassittinghelpingherfathertodoTheTimescrossword.
“CanIspeaktoyouamomentMissCrackenthorpe?”
Emmalookedup,ashadeofapprehensiononherface.Theapprehensionwas,Lucythought,purelydomestic.Insuchwordsdousefulhouseholdstaffannouncetheirimminentdeparture.
“Well,speakup,girl,speakup,”saidoldMr.Crackenthorpeirritably.
LucysaidtoEmma:
“I’dliketospeaktoyoualone,please.”
“Nonsense,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“Yousaystraightoutherewhatyou’vegottosay.”
“Justamoment,Father.”Emmaroseandwenttowardsthedoor.
“Allnonsense.Itcanwait,”saidtheoldmanangrily.
“I’mafraiditcan’twait,”saidLucy.
Mr.Crackenthorpesaid,“Whatimpertinence!”
Emmacameoutintothehall.Lucyfollowedherandshutthedoorbehindthem.
“Yes?”saidEmma.“Whatisit?Ifyouthinkthere’stoomuchtodowiththeboyshere,Icanhelpyouand—”
“It’snotthatatall,”saidLucy.“Ididn’twanttospeakbeforeyourfatherbecauseIunderstandheisaninvalidanditmightgivehimashock.Yousee,I’vejustdiscoveredthebodyofamurderedwomaninthatbigsarcophagusintheLongBarn.”
EmmaCrackenthorpestaredather.
“Inthesarcophagus?Amurderedwoman?It’simpossible!”
“I’mafraidit’squitetrue.I’verungupthepolice.Theywillbehereatanyminute.”
AslightflushcameintoEmma’scheeks
“Youshouldhavetoldmefirst—beforenotifyingthepolice.”
“I’msorry,”saidLucy.
“Ididn’thearyouringup—”Emma’sglancewenttothetelephoneonthehalltable.
“Irangupfromthepostofficejustdowntheroad.”
“Buthowextraordinary.Whynotfromhere?”
Lucythoughtquickly.
“Iwasafraidtheboysmightbeabout—mighthear—ifIrangupfromthehallhere.”
“Isee…Yes…Isee…Theyarecoming—thepolice,Imean?”
“They’reherenow,”saidLucy,aswithasquealofbrakesacardrewupatthefrontdoorandthefrontdoorbellpealedthroughthehouse.
II
“I’msorry,verysorry—tohaveaskedthisofyou,”saidInspectorBacon.
Hishandunderherarm,heledEmmaCrackenthorpeoutofthebarn.Emma’sfacewasverypale,shelookedsick,butshewalkedfirmlyerect.
“I’mquitesurethatI’veneverseenthewomanbeforeinmylife.”
“We’reverygratefultoyou,MissCrackenthorpe.That’sallIwantedtoknow.Perhapsyou’dliketoliedown?”
“Imustgotomyfather.ItelephonedDr.QuimperassoonasIheardaboutthisandthedoctoriswithhimnow.”
Dr.Quimpercameoutofthelibraryastheycrossedthehall.Hewasatallgenialman,withacasualoffhandcynicalmannerthathispatientsfoundverystimulating.
Heandtheinspectornoddedtoeachother.
“MissCrackenthorpehasperformedanunpleasanttaskverybravely,”saidBacon.
“Welldone,Emma,”saidthedoctor,pattingherontheshoulder.“Youcantakethings.I’vealwaysknownthat.Yourfather’sallright.Justgoinandhaveawordwithhim,andthengointothediningroomandgetyourselfaglassofbrandy.That’saprescription.”
Emmasmiledathimgratefullyandwentintothelibrary.
“Thatwoman’sthesaltoftheearth,”saidthedoctor,lookingafterher.“Athousandpitiesshe’snevermarried.Thepenaltyofbeingtheonlyfemaleinafamilyofmen.Theothersistergotclear,marriedatseventeen,Ibelieve.Thisone’squiteahandsomewomanreally.She’dhavebeenasuccessasawifeandmother.”
“Toodevotedtoherfather,Isuppose,”saidInspectorBacon.
“She’snotreallyasdevotedasallthat—butshe’sgottheinstinctsomewomenhavetomaketheirmenfolkhappy.Sheseesthatherfatherlikesbeinganinvalid,sosheletshimbeaninvalid.She’sthesamewithherbrothers.Cedricfeelshe’sagoodpainter,what’shisname—Harold—knowshowmuchshereliesonhissoundjudgment—sheletsAlfredshockherwithhisstoriesofhiscleverdeals.Oh,yes,she’sacleverwoman—nofool.Well,doyouwantmeforanything?WantmetohavealookatyourcorpsenowJohnstonehasdonewithit”(Johnstonewasthepolicesurgeon)“andseeifithappenstobeoneofmymedicalmistakes?”
“I’dlikeyoutohavealook,yes,Doctor.Wewanttogetheridentified.Isupposeit’simpossibleforoldMr.Crackenthorpe?Toomuchofastrain?”
“Strain?Fiddlesticks.He’dneverforgiveyouormeifyoudidn’tlethimhaveapeep.He’sallagog.Mostexcitingthingthat’shappenedtohimforfifteenyearsorso—anditwon’tcosthimanything!”
“There’snothingreallymuchwrongwithhimthen?”
“He’sseventy-two,”saidthedoctor.“That’sall,really,that’sthematterwithhim.Hehasoddrheumatictwinges—whodoesn’t?Sohecallsitarthritis.Hehaspalpitationsaftermeals—aswellhemay—heputsthemdownto‘heart.’Buthecanalwaysdoanythinghewantstodo!I’veplentyofpatientslikethat.Theoneswhoarereallyillusuallyinsistdesperatelythatthey’reperfectlywell.Comeon,let’sgoandseethisbodyofyours.Unpleasant,Isuppose?”
“Johnstoneestimatesshe’sbeendeadbetweenafortnightandthreeweeks.”
“Quiteunpleasant,then.”
Thedoctorstoodbythesarcophagusandlookeddownwithfrankcuriosity,professionallyunmovedbywhathehadnamedthe“unpleasantness.”
“Neverseenherbefore.Nopatientofmine.Idon’tremembereverseeingheraboutinBrackhampton.Shemusthavebeenquitegood-lookingonce—hm—somebodyhaditinforherallright.”
Theywentoutagainintotheair.DoctorQuimperglancedupatthebuilding.
“Foundinthewhat—whatdotheycallit?—theLongBarn—inasarcophagus!Fantastic!Whofoundher?”
“MissLucyEyelesbarrow.”
“Oh,thelatestladyhelp?Whatwasshedoing,pokingaboutinsarcophagi?”
“That,”saidInspectorBacongrimly,“isjustwhatIamgoingtoaskher.Now,aboutMr.Crackenthorpe.Willyou—?”
“I’llbringhimalong.”
Mr.Crackenthorpe,muffledinscarves,camewalkingatabriskpace,thedoctorbesidehim.
“Disgraceful,”hesaid.“Absolutelydisgraceful!IbroughtbackthatsarcophagusfromFlorencein—letmesee—itmusthavebeenin1908—orwasit1909?”
“Steadynow,”thedoctorwarnedhim.“Thisisn’tgoingtobenice,youknow.”
“NomatterhowillIam,I’vegottodomyduty,haven’tI?”
AverybriefvisitinsidetheLongBarnwas,however,quitelongenough.Mr.Crackenthorpeshuffledoutintotheairagainwithremarkablespeed.
“Neversawherbeforeinmylife!”hesaid.“What’sitmean?Absolutelydisgraceful.Itwasn’tFlorence—Iremembernow—itwasNaples.Averyfinespecimen.Andsomefoolofawomanhastocomeandgetherselfkilledinit!”
Heclutchedatthefoldsofhisovercoatontheleftside.
“Toomuchforme…Myheart…Where’sEmma?Doctor….”
DoctorQuimpertookhisarm.
“You’llbeallright,”hesaid.“Iprescribealittlestimulant.Brandy.”
Theywentbacktogethertowardsthehouse.
“Sir.Please,sir.”
InspectorBaconturned.Twoboyshadarrived,breathless,onbicycles.Theirfaceswerefullofeagerpleading.
“Please,sir,canweseethebody?”
“No,youcan’t,”saidInspectorBacon.
“Oh,sir,please,sir.Youneverknow.Wemightknowwhoshewas.Oh,please,sir,dobeasport.It’snotfair.Here’samurder,rightinourownbarn.It’sthesortofchancethatmightneverhappenagain.Dobeasport,sir.”
“Whoareyoutwo?”
“I’mAlexanderEastley,andthisismyfriendJamesStoddart-West.”
“Haveyoueverseenablondewomanwearingalight-coloureddyedsquirrelcoatanywhereabouttheplace?”
“Well,Ican’trememberexactly,”saidAlexanderastutely.“IfIweretohavealook—”
“Take’emin,Sanders,”saidInspectorBacontotheconstablewhowasstandingbythebarndoor.“One’sonlyyoungonce!”
“Oh,sir,thankyou,sir.”Bothboyswerevociferous.“It’sverykindofyou,sir.”
Baconturnedawaytowardsthehouse.
“Andnow,”hesaidtohimselfgrimly,“forMissLucyEyelesbarrow!”
III
AfterleadingthepolicetotheLongBarn,andgivingabriefaccountofheractions,Lucyhadretiredintothebackground,butshewasundernoillusionthatthepolicehadfinishedwithher.
ShehadjustfinishedpreparingpotatoesforchipsthateveningwhenwordwasbroughttoherthatInspectorBaconrequiredherpresence.Puttingasidethelargebowlofcoldwaterandsaltinwhichthechipswerereposing,Lucyfollowedthepolicemantowheretheinspectorawaitedher.Shesatdownandawaitedhisquestionscomposedly.
Shegavehername—andheraddressinLondon,andaddedofherownaccord:
“Iwillgiveyousomenamesandaddressesofreferencesifyouwanttoknowallaboutme.”
Thenameswereverygoodones.AnAdmiraloftheFleet,theProvostofanOxfordCollege,andaDameoftheBritishEmpire.InspiteofhimselfInspectorBaconwasimpressed.
“Now,MissEyelesbarrow,youwentintotheLongBarntofindsomepaint.Isthatright?Andafterhavingfoundthepaintyougotacrowbar,forcedupthelidofthissarcophagusandfoundthebody.Whatwereyoulookingforinthesarcophagus?”
“Iwaslookingforabody,”saidLucy
“Youwerelookingforabody—andyoufoundone!Doesn’tthatseemtoyouaveryextraordinarystory?”
“Oh,yes,itisanextraordinarystory.Perhapsyouwillletmeexplainittoyou.”
“Icertainlythinkyouhadbetterdoso.”
Lucygavehimapreciserecitaloftheeventswhichhadleduptohersensationaldiscovery.
Theinspectorsummeditupinanoutragedvoice.
“Youwereengagedbyanelderlyladytoobtainaposthereandtosearchthehouseandgroundsforadeadbody?Isthatright?”
“Yes.”
“Whoisthiselderlylady?”
“MissJaneMarple.Sheisatpresentlivingat4MadisonRoad.”
Theinspectorwroteitdown.
“Youexpectmetobelievethisstory?”
Lucysaidgently:
“Not,perhaps,untilafteryouhaveinterviewedMissMarpleandgotherconfirmationofit.”
“Ishallinterviewherallright.Shemustbecracked.”
Lucyforboretopointoutthattobeprovedrightisnotreallyaproofofmentalincapacity.Insteadshesaid:
“WhatareyouproposingtotellMissCrackenthorpe?Aboutme,Imean?”
“Whydoyouask?”
“Well,asfarasMissMarpleisconcernedI’vedonemyjob,I’vefoundthebodyshewantedfound.ButI’mstillengagedbyMissCrackenthorpe,andtherearetwohungryboysinthehouseandprobablysomemoreofthefamilywillsoonbecomingdownafterallthisupset.Sheneedsdomestichelp.IfyougoandtellherthatIonlytookthispostinordertohuntfordeadbodiesshe’llprobablythrowmeout.OtherwiseIcangetonwithmyjobandbeuseful.”
Theinspectorlookedhardather.
“I’mnotsayinganythingtoanyoneatpresent,”hesaid.“Ihaven’tverifiedyourstatementyet.ForallIknowyoumaybemakingthewholethingup.”
Lucyrose.
“Thankyou.ThenI’llgobacktothekitchenandgetonwiththings.”
Seven
I
“We’dbetterhavetheYardinonit,isthatwhatyouthink,Bacon?”
TheChiefConstablelookedinquiringlyatInspectorBacon.Theinspectorwasabigstolidman—hisexpressionwasthatofoneutterlydisgustedwithhumanity.
“Thewomanwasn’talocal,sir,”hesaid.“There’ssomereasontobelieve—fromherunderclothing—thatshemighthavebeenaforeigner.Ofcourse,”addedInspectorBaconhastily,“I’mnotlettingonaboutthatyetawhile.We’rekeepingitupoursleevesuntilaftertheinquest.”
TheChiefConstablenodded.
“Theinquestwillbepurelyformal,Isuppose?”
“Yes,sir.I’veseentheCoroner.”
“Andit’sfixedfor—when?”
“Tomorrow.IunderstandtheothermembersoftheCrackenthorpefamilywillbehereforit.There’sjustachanceoneofthemmightbeabletoidentifyher.They’llallbehere.”
Heconsultedalistheheldinhishand
“HaroldCrackenthorpe,he’ssomethingintheCity—quiteanimportantfigure,Iunderstand.Alfred—don’tquiteknowwhathedoes.Cedric—that’stheonewholivesabroad.Paints!”Theinspectorinvestedthewordwithitsfullquotaofsinistersignificance.TheChiefConstablesmiledintohismoustache.
“Noreason,isthere,tobelievetheCrackenthorpefamilyareconnectedwiththecrimeinanyway?”heasked.
“Notapartfromthefactthatthebodywasfoundonthepremises,”saidInspectorBacon.“Andofcourseit’sjustpossiblethatthisartistmemberofthefamilymightbeabletoidentifyher.Whatbeatsmeisthisextraordinaryrigmaroleaboutthetrain.”
“Ah,yes.You’vebeentoseethisoldlady,this—er—”(heglancedatthememorandumlyingonhisdesk)“MissMarple?”
“Yes,sir.Andshe’squitesetanddefiniteaboutthewholething.Whethershe’sbarmyornot,Idon’tknow,butshestickstoherstory—aboutwhatherfriendsawandalltherestofit.Asfarasallthatgoes,Idaresayit’sjustmake-believe—sortofthingoldladiesdomakeup,likeseeingflyingsaucersatthebottomofthegarden,andRussianagentsinthelendinglibrary.Butitseemsquiteclearthatshedidengagethisyoungwoman,theladyhelp,andtoldhertolookforabody—whichthegirldid.”
“Andfoundone,”observedtheChiefConstable.“Well,it’sallaveryremarkablestory.Marple,MissJaneMarple—thenameseemsfamiliarsomehow…Anyway,I’llgetontotheYard.Ithinkyou’rerightaboutitsnotbeingalocalcase—thoughwewon’tadvertisethefactjustyet.Forthemomentwe’lltellthePressaslittleaspossible.”
II
Theinquestwasapurelyformalaffair.Noonecameforwardtoidentifythedeadwoman.Lucywascalledtogiveevidenceoffindingthebodyandmedicalevidencewasgivenastothecauseofdeath—strangulation.Theproceedingswerethenadjourned.
ItwasacoldblusterydaywhentheCrackenthorpefamilycameoutofthehallwheretheinquesthadbeenheld.Therewerefiveofthemalltold,Emma,Cedric,Harold,Alfred,andBryanEastley,thehusbandofthedeaddaughterEdith.TherewasalsoMr.Wimborne,theseniorpartnerofthefirmofsolicitorswhodealtwiththeCrackenthorpes’legalaffairs.HehadcomedownspeciallyfromLondonatgreatinconveniencetoattendtheinquest.Theyallstoodforamomentonthepavement,shivering.Quiteacrowdhadassembled;thepiquantdetailsofthe“BodyintheSarcophagus”hadbeenfullyreportedinboththeLondonandthelocalPress.
Amurmurwentround:“That’sthem….”
Emmasaidsharply:“Let’sgetaway.”
ThebighiredDaimlerdrewuptothekerb.EmmagotinandmotionedtoLucy.Mr.Wimborne,CedricandHaroldfollowed.BryanEastleysaid:“I’lltakeAlfredwithmeinmylittlebus.”ThechauffeurshutthedoorandtheDaimlerpreparedtorollaway.
“Oh,stop!”criedEmma.“Therearetheboys!”
Theboys,inspiteofaggrievedprotests,hadbeenleftbehindatRutherfordHall,buttheynowappearedgrinningfromeartoear.
“Wecameonourbicycles,”saidStoddart-West.“Thepolicemanwasverykindandletusinatthebackofthehall.Ihopeyoudon’tmind,MissCrackenthorpe,”headdedpolitely.
“Shedoesn’tmind,”saidCedric,answeringforhissister.“You’reonlyyoungonce.Yourfirstinquest,Iexpect?”
“Itwasratherdisappointing,”saidAlexander.“Alloversosoon.”
“Wecan’tstayheretalking,”saidHaroldirritably.“There’squiteacrowd.Andallthosemenwithcameras.”
Atasignfromhim,thechauffeurpulledawayfromthekerb.Theboyswavedcheerfully.
“Alloversosoon!”saidCedric.“That’swhattheythink,theyounginnocents!It’sjustbeginning.”
“It’sallveryunfortunate.Mostunfortunate,”saidHarold.“Isuppose—”
HelookedatMr.Wimbornewhocompressedhisthinlipsandshookhisheadwithdistaste.
“Ihope,”hesaidsententiously,“thatthewholematterwillsoonbeclearedupsatisfactorily.Thepolicewereveryefficient.However,thewholething,asHaroldsays,hasbeenmostunfortunate.”
Helooked,ashespoke,atLucy,andtherewasdistinctdisapprovalinhisglance.“Ifithadnotbeenforthisyoungwoman,”hiseyesseemedtosay,“pokingaboutwhereshehadnobusinesstobe—noneofthiswouldhavehappened.”
Thisstatement,oronecloselyresemblingit,wasvoicedbyHaroldCrackenthorpe.
“Bytheway—er—Miss—er—erEyelesbarrow,justwhatmadeyougolookinginthatsarcophagus?”
Lucyhadalreadywonderedjustwhenthisthoughtwouldoccurtooneofthefamily.Shehadknownthatthepolicewouldaskitfirstthing;whatsurprisedherwasthatitseemedtohaveoccurredtonooneelseuntilthismoment.
Cedric,Emma,HaroldandMr.Wimbornealllookedather.
Herreply,forwhatitwasworth,hadnaturallybeenpreparedforsometime.
“Really,”shesaidinahesitatingvoice.“Ihardlyknow…Ididfeelthatthewholeplaceneededathoroughclearingoutandcleaning.Andtherewas”—shehesitated—“averypeculiaranddisagreeablesmell….”
Shehadcountedaccuratelyontheimmediateshrinkingofeveryonefromtheunpleasantnessofthisidea….
Mr.Wimbornemurmured:“Yes,yes,ofcourse…aboutthreeweeksthepolicesurgeonsaid…Ithink,youknow,wemustalltryandnotletourmindsdwellonthisthing.”HesmiledencouraginglyatEmmawhohadturnedverypale.“Remember,”hesaid,“thiswretchedyoungwomanwasnothingtodowithanyofus.”
“Ah,butyoucan’tbesosureofthat,canyou?”saidCedric.
LucyEyelesbarrowlookedathimwithsomeinterest.Shehadalreadybeenintriguedbytheratherstartlingdifferencesbetweenthethreebrothers.Cedricwasabigmanwithaweather-beatenruggedface,unkemptdarkhairandajocundmanner.Hehadarrivedfromtheairportunshaven,andthoughhehadshavedinpreparationfortheinquest,hewasstillwearingtheclothesinwhichhehadarrivedandwhichseemedtobetheonlyoneshehad;oldgreyflanneltrousers,andapatchedandratherthreadbarebaggyjacket.HelookedthestageBohemiantothelifeandproudofit.
HisbrotherHarold,onthecontrary,wastheperfectpictureofaCitygentlemanandadirectorofimportantcompanies.Hewastallwithaneaterectcarriage,haddarkhairgoingslightlybaldonthetemples,asmallblackmoustache,andwasimpeccablydressedinadarkwell-cutsuitandapearl-greytie.Helookedwhathewas,ashrewdandsuccessfulbusinessman.
Henowsaidstiffly:
“Really,Cedric,thatseemsamostuncalled-forremark.”
“Don’tseewhy?Shewasinourbarnafterall.Whatdidshecometherefor?”
Mr.Wimbornecoughed,andsaid:
“Possiblysome—er—assignation.Iunderstandthatitwasamatteroflocalknowledgethatthekeywaskeptoutsideonanail.”
Histoneindicatedoutrageatthecarelessnessofsuchprocedure.SoclearlymarkedwasthisthatEmmaspokeapologetically.
“Itstartedduringthewar.FortheA.R.P.wardens.Therewasalittlespiritstoveandtheymadethemselveshotcocoa.Andafterwards,sincetherewasreallynothingthereanybodycouldhavewantedtotake,wewentonleavingthekeyhangingup.ItwasconvenientfortheWomen’sInstitutepeople.Ifwe’dkeptitinthehouseitmighthavebeenawkward—whentherewasnooneathometogiveitthemwhentheywantedittogettheplaceready.Withonlydailywomenandnoresidentservants….”
Hervoicetrailedaway.Shehadspokenmechanically,givingawordyexplanationwithoutinterest,asthoughhermindwaselsewhere.
Cedricgaveheraquickpuzzledglance.
“You’reworried,sis.What’sup?”
Haroldspokewithexasperation:
“Really,Cedric,canyouask?”
“Yes,Idoask.GrantedastrangeyoungwomanhasgotherselfkilledinthebarnatRutherfordHall(soundslikeaVictorianmelodrama)andgranteditgaveEmmaashockatthetime—butEmma’salwaysbeenasensiblegirl—Idon’tseewhyshegoesonbeingworriednow.Dashit,onegetsusedtoeverything.”
“Murdertakesalittlemoregettingusedtobysomepeoplethanitmayinyourcase,”saidHaroldacidly.“IdaresaymurdersaretwoapennyinMajorcaand—”
“Ibiza,notMajorca.”
“It’sthesamething.”
“Notatall—it’squiteadifferentisland.”
Haroldwentontalking:
“Mypointisthatthoughmurdermaybeaneverydaycommonplacetoyou,livingamongsthot-bloodedLatinpeople,neverthelessinEnglandwetakesuchthingsseriously.”Headdedwithincreasingirritation,“Andreally,Cedric,toappearatapublicinquestinthoseclothes—”
“What’swrongwithmyclothes?They’recomfortable.”
“They’reunsuitable.”
“Well,anyway,they’retheonlyclothesI’vegotwithme.Ididn’tpackmywardrobetrunkwhenIcamerushinghometostandinwiththefamilyoverthisbusiness.I’mapainterandpaintersliketobecomfortableintheirclothes.”
“Soyou’restilltryingtopaint?”
“Lookhere,Harold,whenyousaytryingtopaint—”
Mr.Wimborneclearedhisthroatinanauthoritativemanner.
“Thisdiscussionisunprofitable,”hesaidreprovingly.“Ihope,mydearEmma,thatyouwilltellmeifthereisanyfurtherwayinwhichIcanbeofservicetoyoubeforeIreturntotown?”
Thereproofhaditseffect.EmmaCrackenthorpesaidquickly:
“Itwasmostkindofyoutocomedown.”
“Notatall.Itwasadvisablethatsomeoneshouldbeattheinquesttowatchtheproceedingsonbehalfofthefamily.Ihavearrangedforaninterviewwiththeinspectoratthehouse.Ihavenodoubtthat,distressingasallthishasbeen,thesituationwillsoonbeclarified.Inmyownmind,thereseemslittledoubtastowhatoccurred.AsEmmahastoldus,thekeytotheLongBarnwasknownlocallytohangoutsidethedoor.Itseemshighlyprobablethattheplacewasusedinthewintermonthsasaplaceofassignationbylocalcouples.Nodoubttherewasaquarrelandsomeyoungmanlostcontrolofhimself.Horrifiedatwhathehaddone,hiseyelitonthesarcophagusandherealizedthatitwouldmakeanexcellentplaceofconcealment.”
Lucythoughttoherself,“Yes,itsoundsmostplausible.That’sjustwhatonemightthink.”
Cedricsaid,“Yousayalocalcouple—butnobody’sbeenabletoidentifythegirllocally.”
“It’searlydaysyet.Nodoubtweshallgetanidentificationbeforelong.Anditispossible,ofcourse,thatthemaninquestionwasalocalresident,butthatthegirlcamefromelsewhere,perhapsfromsomeotherpartofBrackhampton.Brackhampton’sabigplace—it’sgrownenormouslyinthelasttwentyyears.”
“IfIwereagirlcomingtomeetmyyoungman,I’dnotstandforbeingtakentoafreezingcoldbarnmilesfromanywhere,”Cedricobjected.“I’dstandoutforanicebitofcuddleinthecinema,wouldn’tyou,MissEyelesbarrow?”
“Doweneedtogointoallthis?”Harolddemandedplaintively.
AndwiththevoicingofthequestionthecardrewupbeforethefrontdoorofRutherfordHallandtheyallgotout.
Eight
I
OnenteringthelibraryMr.WimborneblinkedalittleashisshrewdoldeyeswentpastInspectorBaconwhomhehadalreadymet,tothefair-haired,good-lookingmanbeyondhim.
InspectorBaconperformedintroductions
“ThisisDetective-InspectorCraddockofNewScotlandYard,”hesaid.
“NewScotlandYard—hm.”Mr.Wimborne’seyebrowsrose.
DermotCraddock,whohadapleasantmanner,wenteasilyintospeech.
“Wehavebeencalledinonthecase,Mr.Wimborne,”hesaid.“AsyouarerepresentingtheCrackenthorpefamily,Ifeelitisonlyfairthatweshouldgiveyoualittleconfidentialinformation.”
NobodycouldmakeabettershowofpresentingaverysmallportionofthetruthandimplyingthatitwasthewholetruththanInspectorCraddock.
“InspectorBaconwillagree,Iamsure,”headded,glancingathiscolleague
InspectorBaconagreedwithallduesolemnityandnotatallasthoughthewholematterwereprearranged.
“It’slikethis,”saidCraddock.“Wehavereasontobelieve,frominformationthathascomeintoourpossession,thatthedeadwomanisnotanativeoftheseparts,thatshetravelleddownherefromLondonandthatshehadrecentlycomefromabroad.Probably(thoughwearenotsureofthat)fromFrance.”
Mr.Wimborneagainraisedhiseyebrows.
“Indeed,”hesaid.“Indeed?”
“Thatbeingthecase,”explainedInspectorBacon,“theChiefConstablefeltthattheYardwasbetterfittedtoinvestigatethematter.”
“Icanonlyhope,”saidMr.Wimborne,“thatthecasewillbesolvedquickly.Asyoucannodoubtappreciate,thewholebusinesshasbeenasourceofmuchdistresstothefamily.Althoughnotpersonallyconcernedinanyway,theyare—”
Hepausedforabaresecond,butInspectorCraddockfilledthegapquickly.
“It’snotapleasantthingtofindamurderedwomanonyourproperty?Icouldn’tagreewithyoumore.NowIshouldliketohaveabriefinterviewwiththevariousmembersofthefamily—”
“Ireallycannotsee—”
“Whattheycantellme?Probablynothingofinterest—butoneneverknows.IdaresayIcangetmostoftheinformationIwantfromyou,sir.Informationaboutthishouseandthefamily.”
“Andwhatcanthatpossiblyhavetodowithanunknownyoungwomancomingfromabroadandgettingherselfkilledhere?”
“Well,that’sratherthepoint,”saidCraddock.“Whydidshecomehere?Hadsheoncehadsomeconnectionwiththishouse?>Hadshebeen,forinstance,aservanthereatonetime?Alady’smaid,perhaps.OrdidshecomeheretomeetaformeroccupantofRutherfordHall?”
Mr.WimbornesaidcoldlythatRutherfordHallhadbeenoccupiedbytheCrackenthorpeseversinceJosiahCrackenthorpebuiltitin1884.
“That’sinterestinginitself,”saidCraddock.“Ifyou’djustgivemeabriefoutlineofthefamilyhistory—”
Mr.Wimborneshruggedhisshoulders.
“Thereisverylittletotell.JosiahCrackenthorpewasamanufacturerofsweetandsavourybiscuits,relishes,pickles,etc.Heaccumulatedavastfortune.Hebuiltthishouse.LutherCrackenthorpe,hiseldestson,livesherenow.”
“Anyothersons?”
“Oneotherson,Henry,whowaskilledinamotoraccidentin1911.”
“AndthepresentMr.Crackenthorpehasneverthoughtofsellingthehouse?”
“Heisunabletodoso,”saidthelawyerdryly.“Bythetermsofhisfather’swill.”
“Perhapsyou’lltellmeaboutthewill?”
“WhyshouldI?”
InspectorCraddocksmiled.
“BecauseIcanlookitupmyselfifIwantto,atSomersetHouse.”
Againsthiswill,Mr.Wimbornegaveacrabbedlittlesmile.
“Quiteright,Inspector.Iwasmerelyprotestingthattheinformationyouaskforisquiteirrelevant.AstoJosiahCrackenthorpe’swill,thereisnomysteryaboutit.Helefthisveryconsiderablefortuneintrust,theincomefromittobepaidtohissonLutherforlife,andafterLuther’sdeaththecapitaltobedividedequallybetweenLuther’schildren,Edmund,Cedric,Harold,Alfred,EmmaandEdith.Edmundwaskilledinthewar,andEdithdiedfouryearsago,sothatonLutherCrackenthorpe’sdeceasethemoneywillbedividedbetweenCedric,Harold,Alfred,EmmaandEdith’ssonAlexanderEastley.”
“Andthehouse?”
“ThatwillgotoLutherCrackenthorpe’seldestsurvivingsonorhisissue.”
“WasEdmundCrackenthorpemarried?”
“No.”
“Sothepropertywillactuallygo—?”
“Tothenextson—Cedric.”
“Mr.LutherCrackenthorpehimselfcannotdisposeofit?”
“No.”
“Andhehasnocontrolofthecapital.”
“No.”
“Isn’tthatratherunusual?Isuppose,”saidInspectorCraddockshrewdly,“thathisfatherdidn’tlikehim.”
“Yousupposecorrectly,”saidMr.Wimborne.“OldJosiahwasdisappointedthathiseldestsonshowednointerestinthefamilybusiness—orindeedinbusinessofanykind.Lutherspenthistimetravellingabroadandcollectingobjetsd’art.OldJosiahwasveryunsympathetictothatkindofthing.Sohelefthismoneyintrustforthenextgeneration.”
“Butinthemeantimethenextgenerationhavenoincomeexceptwhattheymakeorwhattheirfatherallowsthem,andtheirfatherhasaconsiderableincomebutnopowerofdisposalofthecapital.”
“Exactly.AndwhatallthishastodowiththemurderofanunknownyoungwomanofforeignoriginIcannotimagine!”
“Itdoesn’tseemtohaveanythingtodowithit,”InspectorCraddockagreedpromptly,“Ijustwantedtoascertainallthefacts.”
Mr.Wimbornelookedathimsharply,then,seeminglysatisfiedwiththeresultofhisscrutiny,rosetohisfeet.
“IamproposingnowtoreturntoLondon,”hesaid.“Unlessthereisanythingfurtheryouwishtoknow?”
Helookedfromonemantotheother.
“No,thankyou,sir.”
Thesoundofthegongrosefortissimofromthehalloutside.
“Dearme,”saidMr.Wimborne.“Oneoftheboys,Ithink,musthavebeenperforming.”
InspectorCraddockraisedhisvoice,tobeheardabovetheclamour,ashesaid:
“We’llleavethefamilytohavelunchinpeace,butInspectorBaconandIwouldliketoreturnafterit—sayattwofifteen—andhaveashortinterviewwitheverymemberofthefamily.”
“Youthinkthatisnecessary?”
“Well…”Craddockshruggedhisshoulders.“It’sjustanoffchance.Somebodymightremembersomethingthatwouldgiveusacluetothewoman’sidentity.”
“Idoubtit,Inspector.Idoubtitverymuch.ButIwishyougoodluck.AsIsaidjustnow,thesoonerthisdistastefulbusinessisclearedup,thebetterforeverybody.”
Shakinghishead,hewentslowlyoutoftheroom.
II
Lucyhadgonestraighttothekitchenongettingbackfromtheinquest,andwasbusywithpreparationsforlunchwhenBryanEastleyputhisheadin.
“CanIgiveyouahandinanyway?”heasked.“I’mhandyaboutthehouse.”
Lucygavehimaquick,slightlypreoccupiedglance.BryanhadarrivedattheinquestdirectinhissmallM.G.car,andshehadnotasyethadmuchtimetosizehimup.
Whatshesawwaslikeableenough.Eastleywasanamiable-lookingyoungmanofthirty-oddwithbrownhair,ratherplaintiveblueeyesandanenormousfairmoustache.
“Theboysaren’tbackyet,”hesaid,cominginandsittingontheendofthekitchentable.“Itwilltake’emanothertwentyminutesontheirbikes.”
Lucysmiled.
“Theywerecertainlydeterminednottomissanything.”
“Can’tblamethem.Imeantosay—firstinquestintheiryounglivesandrightinthefamilysotospeak.”
“Doyoumindgettingoffthetable,Mr.Eastley?Iwanttoputthebakingdishdownthere.”
Bryanobeyed.
“Isay,thatfat’scorkinghot.Whatareyougoingtoputinit?”
“Yorkshirepudding.”
“GoodoldYorkshire.RoastbeefofoldEngland,isthatthemenufortoday?”
“Yes.”
“Thefuneralbakedmeats,infact.Smellsgood.”Hesniffedappreciatively.“Doyoumindmygassingaway?”
“IfyoucameintohelpI’dratheryouhelped.”Shedrewanotherpanfromtheoven.“Here—turnallthesepotatoesoversothattheybrownontheotherside….”
Bryanobeyedwithalacrity.
“Haveallthesethingsbeenfizzlingawayinherewhilewe’vebeenattheinquest?Supposingthey’dbeenallburntup.”
“Mostimprobable.There’saregulatingnumberontheoven.”
“Kindofelectricbrain,eh,what?Isthatright?”
Lucythrewaswiftlookinhisdirection.
“Quiteright.Nowputthepanintheoven.Here,takethecloth.Onthesecondshelf—IwantthetopfortheYorkshirepudding.”
Bryanobeyed,butnotwithoututteringashrillyelp.
“Burntyourself?”
“Justabit.Itdoesn’tmatter.Whatadangerousgamecookingis!”
“Isupposeyouneverdoyourowncooking?”
“AsamatteroffactIdo—quiteoften.Butnotthissortofthing.Icanboilanegg—ifIdon’tforgettolookattheclock.AndIcandoeggsandbacon.AndIcanputasteakunderthegrilloropenatinofsoup.I’vegotoneofthoselittleelectricwhatnotsinmyflat.”
“YouliveinLondon?”
“Ifyoucallitliving—yes.”
Histonewasdespondent.HewatchedLucyshootinthedishwiththeYorkshirepuddingmixture.
“Thisisawfullyjolly,”hesaidandsighed.
Herimmediatepreoccupationsover,Lucylookedathimwithmoreattention.
“Whatis—thiskitchen?”
“Yes.Remindsmeofourkitchenathome—whenIwasaboy.”
ItstruckLucythattherewassomethingstrangelyforlornaboutBryanEastley.Lookingcloselyathim,sherealizedthathewasolderthanshehadatfirstthought.Hemustbecloseonforty.ItseemeddifficulttothinkofhimasAlexander’sfather.Heremindedherofinnumerableyoungpilotsshehadknownduringthewarwhenshehadbeenattheimpressionableageoffourteen.Shehadgoneonandgrownupintoapost-warworld—butshefeltasthoughBryanhadnotgoneon,buthadbeenpassedbyinthepassageofyears.Hisnextwordsconfirmedthis.Hehadsubsidedontothekitchentableagain.
“It’sadifficultsortofworld,”hesaid,“isn’tit?Togetyourbearingsin,Imean.Yousee,onehasn’tbeentrainedforit.”
LucyrecalledwhatshehadheardfromEmma.
“Youwereafighterpilot,weren’tyou?”shesaid.“You’vegotaD.F.C.”
“That’sthesortofthingthatputsyouwrong.You’vegotagongandsopeopletrytomakeiteasyforyou.Giveyouajobandallthat.Verydecentofthem.Butthey’realladmin.jobs,andonesimplyisn’tanygoodatthatsortofthing.Sittingatadeskgettingtangledupinfigures.I’vehadideasofmyown,youknow,triedoutawheezeortwo.Butyoucan’tgetthebacking.Can’tgetthechapstocomeinandputdownthemoney.IfIhadabitofcapital—”
Hebrooded.
“Youdidn’tknowEdie,didyou?Mywife.No,ofcourseyoudidn’t.Shewasquitedifferentfromallthislot.Younger,foronething.ShewasintheW.A.A.F.Shealwayssaidheroldmanwascrackers.Heis,youknow.Meanashellovermoney.Andit’snotasthoughhecouldtakeitwithhim.It’sgottobedividedupwhenhedies.Edie’ssharewillgotoAlexander,ofcourse.Hewon’tbeabletotouchthecapitaluntilhe’stwenty-one,though.”
“I’msorry,butwillyougetoffthetableagain?Iwanttodishupandmakegravy.”
AtthatmomentAlexanderandStoddart-Westarrivedwithrosyfacesandverymuchoutofbreath.
“Hallo,Bryan,”saidAlexanderkindlytohisfather.“Sothisiswhereyou’vegotto.Isay,whatasmashingpieceofbeef.IsthereYorkshirepudding?”
“Yes,thereis.”
“WehaveawfulYorkshirepuddingatschool—alldampandlimp.”
“Getoutofmyway,”saidLucy.“Iwanttomakethegravy.”
“Makelotsofgravy.Canwehavetwosauce-boatsfull?”
“Yes.”
“Good-oh!”saidStoddart-West,pronouncingthewordcarefully.
“Idon’tlikeitpale,”saidAlexanderanxiously.
“Itwon’tbepale.”
“She’sasmashingcook,”saidAlexandertohisfather.
Lucyhadamomentaryimpressionthattheirroleswerereversed.Alexanderspokelikeakindlyfathertohisson.
“Canwehelpyou,MissEyelesbarrow?”askedStoddart-Westpolitely.
“Yes,youcan.Alexander,goandsoundthegong.James,willyoucarrythistrayintothediningroom?Andwillyoutakethejointin,Mr.Eastley?I’llbringthepotatoesandtheYorkshirepudding.”
“There’saScotlandYardmanhere,”saidAlexander.“Doyouthinkhewillhavelunchwithus?”
“Thatdependsonwhatyourauntarranged.”
“Idon’tsupposeAuntEmmawouldmind…She’sveryhospitable.ButIsupposeUncleHaroldwouldn’tlikeit.He’sbeingverystickyoverthismurder.”Alexanderwentoutthroughthedoorwiththetray,addingalittleadditionalinformationoverhisshoulder.“Mr.Wimborne’sinthelibrarywiththeScotlandYardmannow.Butheisn’tstayingtolunch.HesaidhehadtogetbacktoLondon.Comeon,Stodders.Oh,he’sgonetodothegong.”
Atthatmomentthegongtookcharge.Stoddart-Westwasanartist.Hegaveiteverythinghehad,andallfurtherconversationwasinhibited.
Bryancarriedinthejoint,Lucyfollowedwithvegetables—returningtothekitchentogetthetwobrimmingsauce-boatsofgravy.
Mr.WimbornewasstandinginthehallputtingonhisglovesasEmmacamequicklydownthestairs.
“Areyoureallysureyouwon’tstopforlunch,Mr.Wimborne?It’sallready.”
“No,I’veanimportantappointmentinLondon.Thereisarestaurantcaronthetrain.”
“Itwasverygoodofyoutocomedown,”saidEmmagratefully.
Thetwopoliceofficersemergedfromthelibrary.
Mr.WimbornetookEmma’shandinhis.
“There’snothingtoworryabout,mydear,”hesaid.“ThisisDetective-InspectorCraddockfromNewScotlandYardwhohascometotakechargeofthecase.Heiscomingbackattwo-fifteentoaskyouforanyfactsthatmayassisthiminhisinquiry.But,asIsay,youhavenothingtoworryabout.”HelookedtowardsCraddock.“ImayrepeattoMissCrackenthorpewhatyouhavetoldme?”
“Certainly,sir.”
“InspectorCraddockhasjusttoldmethatthisalmostcertainlywasnotalocalcrime.ThemurderedwomanisthoughttohavecomefromLondonandwasprobablyaforeigner.”
EmmaCrackenthorpesaidsharply:
“Aforeigner.WassheFrench?”
Mr.Wimbornehadclearlymeanthisstatementtobeconsoling.Helookedslightlytakenaback.DermotCraddock’sglancewentquicklyfromhimtoEmma’sface.
HewonderedwhyshehadleapedtotheconclusionthatthemurderedwomanwasFrench,andwhythatthoughtdisturbedhersomuch?
Nine
I
TheonlypeoplewhoreallydidjusticetoLucy’sexcellentlunchwerethetwoboysandCedricCrackenthorpewhoappearedcompletelyunaffectedbythecircumstanceswhichhadcausedhimtoreturntoEngland.Heseemed,indeed,toregardthewholethingasarathergoodjokeofamacabrenature.
Thisattitude,Lucynoted,wasmostunpalatabletohisbrotherHarold.HaroldseemedtotakethemurderasakindofpersonalinsulttotheCrackenthorpefamilyandsogreatwashissenseofoutragethatheatehardlyanylunch.Emmalookedworriedandunhappyandalsoateverylittle.Alfredseemedlostinatrainofthoughtofhisownandspokeverylittle.Hewasquiteagood-lookingmanwithathindarkfaceandeyessetrathertooclosetogether.
AfterlunchthepoliceofficersreturnedandpolitelyaskediftheycouldhaveafewwordswithMr.CedricCrackenthorpe.
InspectorCraddockwasverypleasantandfriendly.
“Sitdown,Mr.Crackenthorpe.IunderstandyouhavejustcomebackfromtheBalearics?Youliveoutthere?”
“Havedoneforthepastsixyears.InIbiza.Suitsmebetterthanthisdrearycountry.”
“Yougetagooddealmoresunshinethanwedo,Iexpect,”saidInspectorCraddockagreeably.“Youwerehomenotsoverylongago,Iunderstand—forChristmas,tobeexact.Whatmadeitnecessaryforyoutocomebackagainsosoon?”
Cedricgrinned.
“GotawirefromEmma—mysister.We’veneverhadamurderonthepremisesbefore.Didn’twanttomissanything—soalongIcame.”
“Youareinterestedincriminology?”
“Oh,weneedn’tputitinsuchhighbrowterms!Ijustlikemurders—Whodunnitsandallthat!WithaWhodunnitparkedrightonthefamilydoorstep,itseemedthechanceofalifetime.Besides,IthoughtpoorEmmightneedaspotofhelp—managingtheoldmanandthepoliceandalltherestofit.”
“Isee.Itappealedtoyoursportinginstinctsandalsotoyourfamilyfeelings.I’venodoubtyoursisterwillbeverygratefultoyou—althoughhertwootherbrothershavealsocometobewithher.”
“Butnottocheerandcomfort,”Cedrictoldhim.“Haroldisterrificallyputout.It’snotatallthethingforaCitymagnatetobemixedupwiththemurderofaquestionablefemale.”
Craddock’seyebrowsrosegently.
“Wasshe—aquestionablefemale?”
“Well,you’retheauthorityonthatpoint.Goingbythefacts,itseemedtomelikely.”
“Ithoughtperhapsyoumighthavebeenabletomakeaguessatwhoshewas?”
“Comenow,Inspector,youalreadyknow—oryourcolleagueswilltellyou,thatIhaven’tbeenabletoidentifyher.”
“Isaidaguess,Mr.Crackenthorpe.Youmightneverhaveseenthewomanbefore—butyoumighthavebeenabletomakeaguessatwhoshewas—orwhoshemighthavebeen?”
Cedricshookhishead.
“You’rebarkingupthewrongtree.I’veabsolutelynoidea.You’resuggesting,Isuppose,thatshemayhavecometotheLongBarntokeepanassignationwithoneofus?Butwenoneofuslivehere.Theonlypeopleinthehousewereawomanandanoldman.Youdon’tseriouslybelievethatshecameheretokeepadatewithmyreveredPop?”
“Ourpointis—InspectorBaconagreeswithme—thatthewomanmayoncehavehadsomeassociationwiththishouse.Itmayhavebeenaconsiderablenumberofyearsago.Castyourmindback,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
Cedricthoughtamomentortwo,thenshookhishead.
“We’vehadforeignhelpfromtimetotime,likemostpeople,butIcan’tthinkofanylikelypossibility.Betterasktheothers—they’dknowmorethanIwould.”
“Weshalldothat,ofcourse.”
Craddockleanedbackinhischairandwenton:
“Asyouhaveheardattheinquest,themedicalevidencecannotfixthetimeofdeathveryaccurately.Longerthantwoweeks,lessthanfour—whichbringsitsomewherearoundChristmas-time.YouhavetoldmeyoucamehomeforChristmas.WhendidyouarriveinEnglandandwhendidyouleave?”
Cedricreflected.
“Letmesee…Iflew.GothereontheSaturdaybeforeChristmas—thatwouldbethe21st.”
“YouflewstraightfromMajorca?”
“Yes.Leftatfiveinthemorningandgotheremidday.”
“Andyouleft?”
“IflewbackonthefollowingFriday,the27th.”
“Thankyou.”
Cedricgrinned.
“Leavesmewellwithinthelimit,unfortunately.Butreally,Inspector,stranglingyoungwomenisnotmyfavouriteformofChristmasfun.”
“Ihopenot,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
InspectorBaconmerelylookeddisapproving.
“Therewouldbearemarkableabsenceofpeaceandgoodwillaboutsuchanaction,don’tyouagree?”
CedricaddressedthisquestiontoInspectorBaconwhomerelygrunted.InspectorCraddocksaidpolitely:
“Well,thankyou,Mr.Crackenthorpe.Thatwillbeall.”
“Andwhatdoyouthinkofhim?”CraddockaskedasCedricshutthedoorbehindhim.
Bacongruntedagain.
“Cockyenoughforanything,”hesaid.“Idon’tcareforthetypemyself.Aloose-livinglot,theseartists,andverylikelytobemixedupwithadisreputableclassofwoman.”
Craddocksmiled.
“Idon’tlikethewayhedresses,either,”wentonBacon.“Norespect—goingtoaninquestlikethat.DirtiestpairoftrousersI’veseeninalongwhile.Anddidyouseehistie?Lookedasthoughitwasmadeofcolouredstring.Ifyouaskme,he’sthekindthatwouldeasilystrangleawomanandmakenobonesaboutit.”
“Well,hedidn’tstranglethisone—ifhedidn’tleaveMajorcauntilthe21st.Andthat’sathingwecanverifyeasilyenough.”
Baconthrewhimasharpglance.
“Inoticethatyou’renottippingyourhandyetabouttheactualdateofthecrime.”
“No,we’llkeepthatdarkforthepresent.Ialwaysliketohavesomethingupmysleeveintheearlystages.”
Baconnoddedinfullagreement.
“Springiton’emwhenthetimecomes,”hesaid.“That’sthebestplan.”
“Andnow,”saidCraddock,“we’llseewhatourcorrectCitygentlemanhastosayaboutitall.”
HaroldCrackenthorpe,thin-lipped,hadverylittletosayaboutit.Itwasmostdistasteful—averyunfortunateincident.Thenewspapers,hewasafraid…Reporters,heunderstood,hadalreadybeenaskingforinterviews…Allthatsortofthing…Mostregrettable….
Harold’sstaccatounfinishedsentencesended.Heleanedbackinhischairwiththeexpressionofamanconfrontedwithaverybadsmell.
Theinspector’sprobingproducednoresult.No,hehadnoideawhothewomanwasorcouldbe.Yes,hehadbeenatRutherfordHallforChristmas.HehadbeenunabletocomedownuntilChristmasEve—buthadstayedonoverthefollowingweekend.
“That’sthat,then,”saidInspectorCraddock,withoutpressinghisquestionsfurther.HehadalreadymadeuphismindthatHaroldCrackenthorpewasnotgoingtobehelpful.
HepassedontoAlfred,whocameintotheroomwithanonchalancethatseemedjustatrifleoverdone.
CraddocklookedatAlfredCrackenthorpewithafaintfeelingofrecognition.Surelyhehadseenthisparticularmemberofthefamilysomewherebefore?Orhaditbeenhispictureinthepaper?Therewassomethingdiscreditableattachedtothememory.HeaskedAlfredhisoccupationandAlfred’sanswerwasvague.
“I’mininsuranceatthemoment.UntilrecentlyI’vebeeninterestedinputtinganewtypeoftalkingmachineonthemarket.Quiterevolutionary.Ididverywelloutofthatasamatteroffact.”
InspectorCraddocklookedappreciative—andnoonecouldhavehadtheleastideathathewasnoticingthesuperficiallysmartappearanceofAlfred’ssuitandgaugingcorrectlythelowpriceithadcost.Cedric’sclotheshadbeendisreputable,almostthreadbare,buttheyhadbeenoriginallyofgoodcutandexcellentmaterial.Heretherewasacheapsmartnessthattolditsowntale.Craddockpassedpleasantlyontohisroutinequestions.Alfredseemedinterested—evenslightlyamused.
“It’squiteanidea,thatthewomanmightoncehavehadajobhere.Notasalady’smaid;Idoubtifmysisterhaseverhadsuchathing.Idon’tthinkanyonehasnowadays.But,ofcourse,thereisagooddealofforeigndomesticlabourfloatingabout.We’vehadPoles—andatemperamentalGermanortwo.AsEmmadefinitelydidn’trecognizethewoman,Ithinkthatwashesyourideaout,Inspector,Emma’sgotaverygoodmemoryforaface.No,ifthewomancamefromLondon…WhatgivesyoutheideashecamefromLondon,bytheway?”
Heslippedthequestioninquitecasually,buthiseyesweresharpandinterested.
InspectorCraddocksmiledandshookhishead.
Alfredlookedathimkeenly.
“Nottelling,eh?Returnticketinhercoatpocket,perhaps,isthatit?”
“Itcouldbe,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
“Well,grantingshecamefromLondon,perhapsthechapshecametomeethadtheideathattheLongBarnwouldbeaniceplacetodoaquietmurder.Heknowsthesetuphere,evidently.IshouldgolookingforhimifIwereyou,Inspector.”
“Weare,”saidInspectorCraddock,andmadethetwolittlewordssoundquietandconfident.
HethankedAlfredanddismissedhim.
“Youknow,”hesaidtoBacon,“I’veseenthatchapsomewherebefore….”
InspectorBacongavehisverdict.
“Sharpcustomer,”hesaid.“Sosharpthathecutshimselfsometimes.”
II
“Idon’tsupposeyouwanttoseeme,”saidBryanEastleyapologetically,comingintotheroomandhesitatingbythedoor.“Idon’texactlybelongtothefamily—”
“Letmesee,youareMr.BryanEastley,thehusbandofMissEdithCrackenthorpe,whodiedfiveyearsago?”
“That’sright.”
“Well,it’sverykindofyou,Mr.Eastley,especiallyifyouknowsomethingthatyouthinkcouldassistusinsomeway?”
“ButIdon’t.WishIdid.Wholethingseemssoruddypeculiar,doesn’tit?Comingalongandmeetingsomefellowinthatdraughtyoldbarn,inthemiddleofwinter.Wouldn’tbemycupoftea!”
“Itiscertainlyveryperplexing,”InspectorCraddockagreed.
“Isittruethatshewasaforeigner?Wordseemstohavegotroundtothateffect.”
“Doesthatfactsuggestanythingtoyou?”Theinspectorlookedathimsharply,butBryanseemedamiablyvacuous.
“No,itdoesn’t,asamatteroffact.”
“MaybeshewasFrench,”saidInspectorBacon,withdarksuspicion.
Bryanwasrousedtoslightanimation.Alookofinterestcameintohisblueeyes,andhetuggedathisbigfairmoustache.
“Really?GayParee?”Heshookhishead.“Onthewholeitseemstomakeitevenmoreunlikely,doesn’tit?Messingaboutinthebarn,Imean.Youhaven’thadanyothersarcophagusmurders,haveyou?Oneofthesefellowswithanurge—oracomplex?Thinkshe’sCaligulaorsomeonelikethat?”
InspectorCraddockdidnoteventroubletorejectthisspeculation.Insteadheaskedinacasualmanner:
“NobodyinthefamilygotanyFrenchconnections,or—or—relationshipsthatyouknowof?”
BryansaidthattheCrackenthorpesweren’taverygaylot.
“Harold’srespectablymarried,”hesaid.“Fish-facedwoman,someimpoverishedpeer’sdaughter.Don’tthinkAlfredcaresaboutwomenmuch—spendshislifegoinginforshadydealswhichusuallygowrongintheend.IdaresayCedric’sgotafewSpanishse?oritasjumpingthroughhoopsforhiminIbiza.WomenratherfallforCedric.Doesn’talwaysshaveandlooksasthoughheneverwashes.Don’tseewhythatshouldbeattractivetowomen,butapparentlyitis—Isay,I’mnotbeingveryhelpful,amI?”
Hegrinnedatthem.
“BettergetyoungAlexanderonthejob.HeandJamesStoddart-Westareouthuntingforcluesinabigway.Betyoutheyturnupsomething.”
InspectorCraddocksaidhehopedtheywould.ThenhethankedBryanEastleyandsaidhewouldliketospeaktoMissEmmaCrackenthorpe.
III
InspectorCraddocklookedwithmoreattentionatEmmaCrackenthorpethanhehaddonepreviously.Hewasstillwonderingabouttheexpressionthathehadsurprisedonherfacebeforelunch.
Aquietwoman.Notstupid.Notbrillianteither.Oneofthosecomfortablepleasantwomenwhommenwereinclinedtotakeforgranted,andwhohadtheartofmakingahouseintoahome,givingitanatmosphereofrestfulnessandquietharmony.Such,hethought,wasEmmaCrackenthorpe.
Womensuchasthiswereoftenunderrated.Behindtheirquietexteriortheyhadforceofcharacter,theyweretobereckonedwith.Perhaps,Craddockthought,thecluetothemysteryofthedeadwomaninthesarcophaguswashiddenawayintherecessesofEmma’smind.
Whilstthesethoughtswerepassingthroughhishead,Craddockwasaskingvariousunimportantquestions.
“Idon’tsupposethereismuchthatyouhaven’talreadytoldInspectorBacon,”hesaid.“SoIneedn’tworryyouwithmanyquestions.”
“Pleaseaskmeanythingyoulike.”
“AsMr.Wimbornetoldyou,wehavereachedtheconclusionthatthedeadwomanwasnotanativeoftheseparts.Thatmaybearelieftoyou—Mr.Wimborneseemedtothinkitwouldbe—butitmakesitreallymoredifficultforus.She’slesseasilyidentified.”
“Butdidn’tshehaveanything—ahandbag?Papers?”
Craddockshookhishead.
“Nohandbag,nothinginherpockets.”
“You’venoideaofhername—ofwhereshecamefrom—anythingatall?”
Craddockthoughttohimself:Shewantstoknow—she’sveryanxioustoknow—whothewomanis.Hasshefeltlikethatallalong,Iwonder?Bacondidn’tgivemethatimpression—andhe’sashrewdman….
“Weknownothingabouther,”hesaid.“That’swhywehopedoneofyoucouldhelpus.Areyousureyoucan’t?Evenifyoudidn’trecognizeher—canyouthinkofanyoneshemightbe?”
Hethought,butperhapsheimaginedit,thattherewasaveryslightpausebeforesheanswered.
“I’veabsolutelynoidea,”shesaid.
Imperceptibly,InspectorCraddock’smannerchanged.Itwashardlynoticeableexceptasaslighthardnessinhisvoice.
“WhenMr.Wimbornetoldyouthatthewomanwasaforeigner,whydidyouassumethatshewasFrench?”
Emmawasnotdisconcerted.Hereyebrowsroseslightly.
“DidI?Yes,IbelieveIdid.Idon’treallyknowwhy—exceptthatonealwaystendstothinkforeignersareFrenchuntilonefindsoutwhatnationalitytheyreallyare.MostforeignersinthiscountryareFrench,aren’tthey?”
“Oh,Ireallywouldn’tsaythatwasso,MissCrackenthorpe.Notnowadays.Wehavesomanynationalitiesoverhere,Italians,Germans,Austrians,alltheScandinaviancountries—”
“Yes,Isupposeyou’reright.”
“Youdon’thavesomespecialreasonforthinkingthatthiswomanwaslikelytobeFrench?”
Shedidn’thurrytodenyit.Shejustthoughtamomentandthenshookherheadalmostregretfully.
“No,”shesaid.“Ireallydon’tthinkso.”
Herglancemethisplacidly,withoutflinching.CraddocklookedtowardsInspectorBacon.Thelatterleanedforwardandpresentedasmallenamelpowdercompact.
“Doyourecognizethis,MissCrackenthorpe?”
Shetookitandexaminedit.
“No.It’scertainlynotmine.”
“You’venoideatowhomitbelonged?”
“No.”
“ThenIdon’tthinkweneedworryyouanymore—forthepresent.”
“Thankyou.”
Shesmiledbrieflyatthem,gotup,andlefttheroom.Againhemayhaveimaginedit,butCraddockthoughtshemovedratherquickly,asthoughacertainreliefhurriedher.
“Thinksheknowsanything?”askedBacon.
InspectorCraddocksaidruefully:
“Atacertainstageoneisinclinedtothinkeveryoneknowsalittlemorethantheyarewillingtotellyou.”
“Theyusuallydo,too,”saidBaconoutofthedepthofhisexperience.“Only,”headded,“itquiteoftenisn’tanythingtodowiththebusinessinhand.It’ssomefamilypeccadilloorsomesillyscrapethatpeopleareafraidisgoingtobedraggedintotheopen.”
“Yes,Iknow.Well,atleast—”
ButwhateverInspectorCraddockhadbeenabouttosaynevergotsaid,forthedoorwasflungopenandoldMr.Crackenthorpeshuffledininahighstateofindignation.
“Aprettypass,whenScotlandYardcomesdownanddoesn’thavethecourtesytotalktotheheadofthefamilyfirst!Who’sthemasterofthishouse,I’dliketoknow?Answermethat?Who’sthemasterhere?”
“Youare,ofcourse,Mr.Crackenthorpe,”saidCraddocksoothinglyandrisingashespoke.“ButweunderstoodthatyouhadalreadytoldInspectorBaconallyouknow,andthat,yourhealthnotbeinggood,wemustnotmaketoomanydemandsuponit.Dr.Quimpersaid—”
“Idaresay—Idaresay.I’mnotastrongman…AsforDr.Quimper,he’saregularoldwoman—perfectlygooddoctor,understandsmycase—butinclinedtowrapmeupincotton-wool.Gotabeeinhisbonnetaboutfood.WentonatmeChristmas-timewhenIhadabitofaturn—whatdidIeat?When?Whocookedit?Whoservedit?Fuss,fuss,fuss!ButthoughImayhaveindifferenthealth,I’mwellenoughtogiveyouallthehelpthat’sinmypower.Murderinmyownhouse—oratanyrateinmyownbarn!Interestingbuilding,that.Elizabethan.Localarchitectsaysnot—butfellowdoesn’tknowwhathe’stalkingabout.Notadaylaterthan1580—butthat’snotwhatwe’retalkingabout.Whatdoyouwanttoknow?What’syourpresenttheory?”
“It’salittletooearlyfortheories,Mr.Crackenthorpe.Wearestilltryingtofindoutwhothewomanwas.”
“Foreigner,yousay?”
“Wethinkso.”
“Enemyagent?”
“Unlikely,Ishouldsay.”
“You’dsay—you’dsay!They’reeverywhere,thesepeople.Infiltrating!WhytheHomeOfficeletstheminbeatsme.Spyingonindustrialsecrets,I’dbet.That’swhatshewasdoing.”
“InBrackhampton?”
“Factorieseverywhere.Oneoutsidemyownbackgate.”
CraddockshotaninquiringglanceatBaconwhoresponded.
“MetalBoxes.”
“Howdoyouknowthat’swhatthey’rereallymaking?Can’tswallowallthesefellowstellyou.Allright,ifshewasn’taspy,whodoyouthinkshewas?Thinkshewasmixedupwithoneofmyprecioussons?ItwouldbeAlfred,ifso.NotHarold,he’stoocareful.AndCedricdoesn’tcondescendtoliveinthiscountry.Allright,then,shewasAlfred’sbitofskirt.Andsomeviolentfellowfollowedherdownhere,thinkingshewascomingtomeethimanddidherin.How’sthat?”
InspectorCraddocksaiddiplomaticallythatitwascertainlyatheory.ButMr.AlfredCrackenthorpe,hesaid,hadnotreccognizedher.
“Pah!Afraid,that’sall!Alfredalwayswasacoward.Buthe’saliar,remember,alwayswas!Liehimselfblackintheface.Noneofmysonsareanygood.Crowdofvultures,waitingformetodie,that’stheirrealoccupationinlife,”hechuckled.“Andtheycanwait.Iwon’tdietoobligethem!Well,ifthat’sallIcandoforyou…I’mtired.Gottorest.”
Heshuffledoutagain.
“Alfred’sbitofskirt?”saidBaconquestioningly.“Inmyopiniontheoldmanjustmadethatup,”hepaused,hesitated.“Ithink,personally,Alfred’squiteallright—perhapsashiftycustomerinsomeways—butnotourpresentcupoftea.Mindyou—IdidjustwonderaboutthatAirForcechap.”
“BryanEastley?”
“Yes.I’verunintooneortwoofhistype.They’rewhatyoumightcalladriftintheworld—haddangeranddeathandexcitementtooearlyinlife.Nowtheyfindlifetame.Tameandunsatisfactory.Inaway,we’vegiventhemarawdeal.ThoughIdon’treallyknowwhatwecoulddoaboutit.Buttheretheyare,allpastandnofuture,sotospeak.Andthey’rethekindthatdon’tmindtakingchances—theordinaryfellowplayssafebyinstinct,it’snotsomuchmoralityasprudence.Butthesefellowsaren’tafraid—playingsafeisn’treallyintheirvocabulary.IfEastleyweremixedupwithawomanandwantedtokillher…”Hestopped,threwoutahandhopelessly.“Butwhyshouldhewanttokillher?Andifyoudokillawoman,whyplantherinyourfather-in-law’ssarcophagus?No,ifyouaskme,noneofthislothadanythingtodowiththemurder.Iftheyhad,theywouldn’thavegonetoallthetroubleofplantingthebodyontheirownbackdoorstep,sotospeak.”
Craddockagreedthatthathardlymadesense.
“Anythingmoreyouwanttodohere?”
Craddocksaidtherewasn’t.
BaconsuggestedcomingbacktoBrackhamptonandhavingacupoftea—butInspectorCraddocksaidthathewasgoingtocallonanoldacquaintance.
Ten
I
MissMarple,sittingerectagainstabackgroundofchinadogsandpresentsfromMargate,smiledapprovinglyatInspectorDermotCraddock.
“I’msoglad,”shesaid,“thatyouhavebeenassignedtothecase.Ihopedyouwouldbe.”
“WhenIgotyourletter,”saidCraddock,“ItookitstraighttotheA.C.AsithappenedhehadjustheardfromtheBrackhamptonpeoplecallingusin.Theyseemedtothinkitwasn’talocalcrime.TheA.C.wasveryinterestedinwhatIhadtotellhimaboutyou.He’dheardaboutyou,Igather,frommygodfather.”
“DearSirHenry,”murmuredMissMarpleaffectionately.
“HegotmetotellhimallabouttheLittlePaddocksbusiness.Doyouwanttohearwhathesaidnext?”
“Pleasetellmeifitisnotabreachofconfidence.”
“Hesaid,‘Well,asthisseemsacompletelycockeyedbusiness,allthoughtupbyacoupleofoldladieswho’veturnedout,againstallprobability,toberight,andsinceyoualreadyknowoneoftheseoldladies,I’msendingyoudownonthecase.’SohereIam!Andnow,mydearMissMarple,wheredowegofromhere?Thisisnot,asyouprobablyappreciate,anofficialvisit.Ihaven’tgotmyhenchmenwithme.IthoughtyouandImighttakedownourbackhairtogetherfirst.”
MissMarplesmiledathim.
“I’msure,”shesaid,“thatnoonewhoonlyknowsyouofficiallywouldeverguessthatyoucouldbesohuman,andbetter-lookingthanever—don’tblush…Now,what,exactly,haveyoubeentoldsofar?”
“I’vegoteverything,Ithink.Yourfriend,Mrs.McGillicuddy’soriginalstatementtothepoliceatSt.MaryMead,confirmationofherstatementbytheticketcollector,andalsothenotetothestationmasteratBrackhampton.Imaysaythatalltheproperinquiriesweremadebythepeopleconcerned—therailwaypeopleandthepolice.Butthere’snodoubtthatyououtsmartedthemallbyamostfantasticprocessofguesswork.”
“Notguesswork,”saidMissMarple.“AndIhadagreatadvantage.IknewElspethMcGillicuddy.Nobodyelsedid.Therewasnoobviousconfirmationofherstory,andiftherewasnoquestionofanywomanbeingreportedmissing,thenquitenaturallytheywouldthinkitwasjustanelderlyladyimaginingthings—aselderlyladiesoftendo—butnotElspethMcGillicuddy.”
“NotElspethMcGillicuddy,”agreedtheinspector.“I’mlookingforwardtomeetingher,youknow.Iwishshehadn’tgonetoCeylon.We’rearrangingforhertobeinterviewedthere,bytheway.”
“Myownprocessofreasoningwasnotreallyoriginal,”saidMissMarple.“It’sallinMarkTwain.Theboywhofoundthehorse.Hejustimaginedwherehewouldgoifhewereahorseandhewentthereandtherewasthehorse.”
“Youimaginedwhatyou’ddoifyouwereacruelandcold-bloodedmurderer?”saidCraddocklookingthoughtfullyatMissMarple’spinkandwhiteelderlyfragility.“Really,yourmind—”
“Likeasink,mynephewRaymondusedtosay,”MissMarpleagreed,noddingherheadbriskly.“ButasIalwaystoldhim,sinksarenecessarydomesticequipmentandactuallyveryhygienic.”
“Canyougoalittlefurtherstill,putyourselfinthemurderer’splace,andtellmejustwhereheisnow?”
MissMarplesighed.
“IwishIcould.I’venoidea—noideaatall.Buthemustbesomeonewhohaslivedin,orknowsallabout,RutherfordHall.”
“Iagree.Butthatopensupaverywidefield.Quiteasuccessionofdailywomenhaveworkedthere.There’stheWomen’sInstitute—andtheA.R.P.Wardensbeforethem.TheyallknowtheLongBarnandthesarcophagusandwherethekeywaskept.Thewholesetupthereiswidelyknownlocally.Anybodylivingroundaboutmighthitonitasagoodspotforhispurpose.”
“Yes,indeed.Iquiteunderstandyourdifficulties.”
Craddocksaid:“We’llnevergetanywhereuntilweidentifythebody.”
“Andthat,too,maybedifficult?”
“Oh,we’llgetthere—intheend.We’recheckinguponallthereporteddisappearancesofawomanofthatageandappearance.There’snooneoutstandingwhofitsthebill.TheM.O.putsherdownasaboutthirty-five,healthy,probablyamarriedwoman,hashadatleastonechild.HerfurcoatisacheaponepurchasedataLondonstore.Hundredsofsuchcoatsweresoldinthelastthreemonths,aboutsixtypercentofthemtoblondewomen.Nosalesgirlcanrecognizethephotographofthedeadwoman,orislikelytoifthepurchaseweremadejustbeforeChristmas.HerotherclothesseemmainlyofforeignmanufacturemostlypurchasedinParis.TherearenoEnglishlaundrymarks.We’vecommunicatedwithParisandtheyarecheckingupthereforus.Soonerorlater,ofcourse,someonewillcomeforwardwithamissingrelativeorlodger.It’sjustamatteroftime.”
“Thecompactwasn’tanyhelp?”
“Unfortunately,no.It’satypesoldbythehundredintheRuedeRivoli,quitecheap.Bytheway,yououghttohaveturnedthatovertothepoliceatonce,youknow—orratherMissEyelesbarrowshouldhavedoneso.”
MissMarpleshookherhead.
“Butatthatmomenttherewasn’tanyquestionofacrimehavingbeencommitted,”shepointedout.“Ifayounglady,practisinggolfshots,picksupanoldcompactofnoparticularvalueinthelonggrass,surelyshedoesn’trushstraightofftothepolicewithit?”MissMarplepaused,andthenaddedfirmly:“Ithoughtitmuchwisertofindthebodyfirst.”
InspectorCraddockwastickled.
“Youdon’tseemevertohavehadanydoubtsbutthatitwouldbefound?”
“Iwassureitwould.LucyEyelesbarrowisamostefficientandintelligentperson.”
“I’llsaysheis!Shescaresthelifeoutofme,she’ssodevastatinglyefficient!Nomanwilleverdaremarrythatgirl.”
“Nowyouknow,Iwouldn’tsaythat…Itwouldhavetobeaspecialtypeofman,ofcourse.”MissMarplebroodedonthisthoughtamoment.“HowisshegettingonatRutherfordHall?”
“They’recompletelydependentonherasfarasIcansee.Eatingoutofherhand—literallyasyoumightsay.Bytheway,theyknownothingaboutherconnectionwithyou.We’vekeptthatdark.”
“Shehasnoconnectionnowwithme.ShehasdonewhatIaskedhertodo.”
“Soshecouldhandinhernoticeandgoifshewantedto?”
“Yes.”
“Butshestopson.Why?”
“Shehasnotmentionedherreasonstome.Sheisaveryintelligentgirl.Isuspectthatshehasbecomeinterested.”
“Intheproblem?Orinthefamily?”
“Itmaybe,”saidMissMarple,“thatitisratherdifficulttoseparatethetwo.”
Craddocklookedhardather.
“Oh,no—oh,dearme,no.”
“Haveyougotanythingparticularinmind?”
“Ithinkyouhave.”
MissMarpleshookherhead.
DermotCraddocksighed.“SoallIcandoisto‘prosecutemyinquiries’—toputitinjargon.Apoliceman’slifeisadullone!”
“You’llgetresults,I’msure.”
“Anyideasforme?Moreinspiredguesswork?”
“Iwasthinkingofthingsliketheatricalcompanies,”saidMissMarplerathervaguely.“Touringfromplacetoplaceandperhapsnotmanyhometies.Oneofthoseyoungwomenwouldbemuchlesslikelytobemissed.”
“Yes.Perhapsyou’vegotsomethingthere.We’llpayspecialattentiontothatangle.”Headded,“Whatareyousmilingabout?”
“Iwasjustthinking,”saidMissMarple,“ofElspethMcGillicuddy’sfacewhenshehearswe’vefoundthebody!”
II
“Well!”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.“Well!”
Wordsfailedher.Shelookedacrossatthenicelyspokenpleasantyoungmanwhohadcalleduponherwithofficialcredentialsandthendownatthephotographthathehandedher.
“That’sherallright,”shesaid.“Yes,that’sher.Poorsoul.Well,ImustsayI’mgladyou’vefoundherbody.NobodybelievedawordIsaid!Thepolice,ortherailwaypeopleoranyoneelse.It’sverygallingnottobebelieved.Atanyrate,nobodycouldsayIdidn’tdoallIpossiblycould.”
Theniceyoungmanmadesympatheticandappreciativenoises.
“Wheredidyousaythebodywasfound?”
“InabarnatahousecalledRutherfordHall,justoutsideBrackhampton.”
“Neverheardofit.Howdiditgetthere,Iwonder?”
Theyoungmandidn’treply.
“JaneMarplefoundit,Isuppose.TrustJane.”
“Thebody,”saidtheyoungman,referringtosomenotes,“wasfoundbyaMissLucyEyelesbarrow.”
“Neverheardofhereither,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.“IstillthinkJaneMarplehadsomethingtodowithit.”
“Anyway,Mrs.McGillicuddy,youdefinitelyidentifythispictureasthatofthewomanwhomyousawinatrain?”
“Beingstrangledbyaman.Yes,Ido.”
“Now,canyoudescribethisman?”
“Hewasatallman,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.
“Yes?”
“Anddark.”
“Yes?”
“That’sallIcantellyou,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.“Hehadhisbacktome.Ididn’tseehisface.”
“Wouldyoubeabletorecognizehimifyousawhim?”
“OfcourseIshouldn’t!Hehadhisbacktome.Ineversawhisface.”
“You’venoideaatallastohisage?”
Mrs.McGillicuddyconsidered.
“No—notreally.Imean,Idon’tknow…Hewasn’t,I’malmostsure—veryyoung.Hisshoulderslooked—well,set,ifyouknowwhatImean.”Theyoungmannodded.“Thirtyandupward,Ican’tgetcloserthanthat.Iwasn’treallylookingathim,yousee.Itwasher—withthosehandsroundherthroatandherface—allblue…Youknow,sometimesIdreamofitevennow….”
“Itmusthavebeenadistressingexperience,”saidtheyoungmansympathetically.
Heclosedhisnotebookandsaid:
“WhenareyoureturningtoEngland?”
“Notforanotherthreeweeks.Itisn’tnecessary,isit,forme?”
Hequicklyreassuredher.
“Oh,no.There’snothingyoucoulddoatpresent.Ofcourse,ifwemakeanarrest—”
Itwasleftlikethat.
ThemailbroughtaletterfromMissMarpletoherfriend.Thewritingwasspikyandspideryandheavilyunderlined.LongpracticemadeiteasyforMrs.McGillicuddytodecipher.MissMarplewroteaveryfullaccounttoherfriendwhodevouredeverywordwithgreatsatisfaction.
SheandJanehadshownthemallright!
Eleven
I
“Isimplycan’tmakeyouout,”saidCedricCrackenthorpe.
HeeasedhimselfdownonthedecayingwallofalongderelictpigstyandstaredatLucyEyelesbarrow.
“Whatcan’tyoumakeout?”
“Whatyou’redoinghere?”
“I’mearningmyliving.”
“Asaskivvy?”hespokedisparagingly
“You’reoutofdate,”saidLucy.“Skivvy,indeed!I’maHouseholdHelp,aProfessionalDomestician,oranAnswertoPrayer,mainlythelatter.”
“Youcan’tlikeallthethingsyouhavetodo—cookingandmakingbedsandwhirringaboutwithahooplaorwhateveryoucallit,andsinkingyourarmsuptotheelbowsingreasywater.”
Lucylaughed.
“Notthedetails,perhaps,butcookingsatisfiesmycreativeinstincts,andthere’ssomethinginmethatreallyrevelsinclearingupmess.”
“Iliveinapermanentmess,”saidCedric.“Ilikeit,”headdeddefiantly
“Youlookasthoughyoudid.”
“MycottageinIbizaisrunonsimplestraightforwardlines.Threeplates,twocupsandsaucers,abed,atableandacoupleofchairs.There’sdusteverywhereandsmearsofpaintandchipsofstone—Isculptaswellaspaint—andnobody’sallowedtotouchathing.Iwon’thaveawomanneartheplace.”
“Notinanycapacity?”
“Whatdoyoumeanbythat?”
“Iwasassumingthatamanofsuchartistictastespresumablyhadsomekindoflovelife.”
“Mylovelife,asyoucallit,ismyownbusiness,”saidCedricwithdignity.“WhatIwon’thaveiswomaninhertidying-upinterferingbossingcapacity.”
“HowI’dlovetohaveagoatyourcottage,”saidLucy.“Itwouldbeachallenge!”
“Youwon’tgettheopportunity.”
“Isupposenot.”
Somebricksfelloutofthepigsty.Cedricturnedhisheadandlookedintoitsnettle-riddendepths.
“DearoldMadge,”hesaid.“Irememberherwell.Asowofmostendearingdispositionandprolificmother.Seventeeninthelastlitter,Iremember.WeusedtocomehereonfineafternoonsandscratchMadge’sbackwithastick.Shelovedit.”
“Whyhasthiswholeplacebeenallowedtogetintothestateit’sin?Itcan’tonlybethewar?”
“You’dliketotidythisup,too,Isuppose?Whataninterferingfemaleyouare.Iquiteseenowwhyyouwouldbethepersontodiscoverabody!Youcouldn’tevenleaveaGreco-Romansarcophagusalone.”Hepausedandthenwenton.“No,it’snotonlythewar.It’smyfather.Whatdoyouthinkofhim,bytheway?”
“Ihaven’thadmuchtimeforthinking.”
“Don’tevadetheissue.He’sasmeanashell,andinmyopinionabitcrazyaswell.Ofcoursehehatesallofus—exceptperhapsEmma.That’sbecauseofmygrandfather’swill.”
Lucylookedinquiring.
“Mygrandfatherwasthemanwhomadea-da-monitch.WiththeCrunchiesandtheCrackerJacksandtheCosyCrisps.Alltheafternoonteadelicaciesandthen,beingfar-sighted,heswitchedonveryearlytoCheesiesandCanapéssothatnowwecashinoncocktailpartiesinabigway.Well,thetimecamewhenfatherintimatedthathehadasoulaboveCrunchies.HetravelledinItalyandtheBalkansandGreeceanddabbledinart.Mygrandfatherwaspeeved.Hedecidedmyfatherwasnomanofbusinessandaratherpoorjudgeofart(quiterightinbothcases),soleftallhismoneyintrustforhisgrandchildren.Fatherhadtheincomeforlife,buthecouldn’ttouchthecapital.Doyouknowwhathedid?Hestoppedspendingmoney.Hecamehereandbegantosave.I’dsaythatbynowhe’saccumulatednearlyasbigafortuneasmygrandfatherleft.Andinthemeantimeallofus,Harold,myself,AlfredandEmmahaven’tgotapennyofgrandfather’smoney.I’mastony-brokepainter.HaroldwentintobusinessandisnowaprominentmanintheCity—he’stheonewiththemoney-makingtouch,thoughI’veheardrumoursthathe’sinQueerStreetlately.Alfred—well,AlfredisusuallyknownintheprivacyofthefamilyasFlashAlf—”
“Why?”
“Whatalotofthingsyouwanttoknow!TheansweristhatAlfistheblacksheepofthefamily.He’snotactuallybeentoprisonyet,buthe’sbeenverynearit.HewasintheMinistryofSupplyduringthewar,butleftitratherabruptlyunderquestionablecircumstances.Andafterthatthereweresomedubiousdealsintinnedfruits—andtroubleovereggs.Nothinginabigway—justafewdoubtfuldealsontheside.”
“Isn’titratherunwisetotellstrangersallthesethings?”
“Why?Areyouapolicespy?”
“Imightbe.”
“Idon’tthinkso.Youwerehereslavingawaybeforethepolicebegantotakeaninterestinus.Ishouldsay—”
HebrokeoffashissisterEmmacamethroughthedoorofthekitchengarden.
“Hallo,Em?You’relookingveryperturbedaboutsomething?”
“Iam.Iwanttotalktoyou,Cedric.”
“Imustgetbacktothehouse,”saidLucy,tactfully.
“Don’tgo,”saidCedric.“Murderhasmadeyoupracticallyoneofthefamily.”
“I’vegotalottodo,”saidLucy.“Ionlycameouttogetsomeparsley.”
Shebeatarapidretreattothekitchengarden.Cedric’seyesfollowedher.
“Good-lookinggirl,”hesaid.“Whoisshereally?”
“Oh,she’squitewellknown,”saidEmma.“She’smadeaspecialityofthiskindofthing.ButnevermindLucyEyelesbarrow,Cedric,I’mterriblyworried.Apparentlythepolicethinkthatthedeadwomanwasaforeigner,perhapsFrench.Cedric,youdon’tthinkthatshecouldpossiblybe—Martine?”
II
ForamomentortwoCedricstaredatherasthoughuncomprehending.
“Martine?Butwhoonearth—oh,youmeanMartine?”
“Yes.Doyouthink—”
“WhyonearthshoulditbeMartine?”
“Well,hersendingthattelegramwasoddwhenyoucometothinkofit.Itmusthavebeenroughlyaboutthesametime…Doyouthinkthatshemay,afterall,havecomedownhereand—”
“Nonsense.WhyshouldMartinecomedownhereandfindherwayintotheLongBarn?Whatfor?Itseemswildlyunlikelytome.”
“Youdon’tthink,perhaps,thatIoughttotellInspectorBacon—ortheotherone?”
“Tellhimwhat?”
“Well—aboutMartine.Aboutherletter.”
“Nowdon’tyougocomplicatingthings,sis,bybringingupalotofirrelevantstuffthathasnothingtodowithallthis.IwasneververyconvincedaboutthatletterfromMartine,anyway.”
“Iwas.”
“You’vealwaysbeengoodatbelievingimpossiblethingsbeforebreakfast,oldgirl.Myadvicetoyouis,sittight,andkeepyourmouthshut.It’suptothepolicetoidentifytheirpreciouscorpse.AndIbetHaroldwouldsaythesame.”
“Oh,IknowHaroldwould.AndAlfred,also.ButI’mworried,Cedric,Ireallyamworried.Idon’tknowwhatIoughttodo.”
“Nothing,”saidCedricpromptly.“Youkeepyourmouthshut,Emma.Nevergohalfwaytomeettrouble,that’smymotto.”
EmmaCrackenthorpesighed.Shewentslowlybacktothehouseuneasyinhermind.
Asshecameintothedrive,DoctorQuimperemergedfromthehouseandopenedthedoorofhisbatteredAustincar.Hepausedwhenhesawher,thenleavingthecarhecametowardsher.
“Well,Emma,”hesaid.“Yourfather’sinsplendidshape.Murdersuitshim.It’sgivenhimaninterestinlife.Imustrecommenditformoreofmypatients.”
Emmasmiledmechanically.Dr.Quimperwasalwaysquicktonoticereactions.
“Anythingparticularthematter?”heasked.
Emmalookedupathim.Shehadcometorelyalotonthekindnessandsympathyofthedoctor.Hehadbecomeafriendonwhomtolean,notonlyamedicalattendant.Hiscalculatedbrusquenessdidnotdeceiveher—sheknewthekindnessthatlaybehindit.
“Iamworried,yes,”sheadmitted.
“Caretotellme?Don’tifyoudon’twantto.”
“I’dliketotellyou.Someofityouknowalready.ThepointisIdon’tknowwhattodo.”
“Ishouldsayyourjudgmentwasusuallymostreliable.What’sthetrouble?”
“Youremember—orperhapsyoudon’t—whatIoncetoldyouaboutmybrother—theonewhowaskilledinthewar?”
“Youmeanabouthishavingmarried—orwantingtomarry—aFrenchgirl?Somethingofthatkind?”
“Yes.AlmostimmediatelyafterIgotthatletter,hewaskilled.Weneverheardanythingoforaboutthegirl.Allweknew,actually,washerchristianname.Wealwaysexpectedhertowriteortoturnup,butshedidn’t.Weneverheardanything—untilaboutamonthago,justbeforeChristmas.”
“Iremember.Yougotaletter,didn’tyou?”
“Yes.SayingshewasinEnglandandwouldliketocomeandseeus.Itwasallarrangedandthen,atthelastminute,shesentawirethatshehadtoreturnunexpectedlytoFrance.”
“Well?”
“Thepolicethinkthatthiswomanwhowaskilled—wasFrench.”
“Theydo,dothey?ShelookedmoreofanEnglishtypetome,butonecan’treallyjudge.What’sworryingyouthen,isthatjustpossiblythedeadwomanmightbeyourbrother’sgirl?”
“Yes.”
“Ithinkit’smostunlikely,”saidDr.Quimper,adding:“Butallthesame,Iunderstandwhatyoufeel.”
“I’mwonderingifIoughtnottotellthepoliceabout—aboutitall.Cedricandtheotherssayit’squiteunnecessary.Whatdoyouthink?”
“Hm.”Dr.Quimperpursedhislips.Hewassilentforamomentortwo,deepinthought.Thenhesaid,almostunwillingly,“It’smuchsimpler,ofcourse,ifyousaynothing.Icanunderstandwhatyourbrothersfeelaboutit.Allthesame—”
“Yes?”
Quimperlookedather.Hiseyeshadanaffectionatetwinkleinthem.
“I’dgoaheadandtell’em,”hesaid.“You’llgoonworryingifyoudon’t.Iknowyou.”
Emmaflushedalittle.
“PerhapsI’mfoolish.”
“Youdowhatyouwanttodo,mydear—andlettherestofthefamilygohang!I’dbackyourjudgmentagainstthelotofthemanyday.”
Twelve
I
“Girl!You,girl!Comeinhere.”
Lucyturnedherhead,surprised.OldMr.Crackenthorpewasbeckoningtoherfiercelyfromjustinsideadoor.
“Youwantme,Mr.Crackenthorpe?”
“Don’ttalksomuch.Comeinhere.”
Lucyobeyedtheimperativefinger.OldMr.Crackenthorpetookholdofherarmandpulledherinsidethedoorandshutit.
“Wanttoshowyousomething,”hesaid
Lucylookedroundher.Theywereinasmallroomevidentlydesignedtobeusedasastudy,butequallyevidentlynotusedassuchforaverylongtime.Therewerepilesofdustypapersonthedeskandcobwebsfestoonedfromthecornersoftheceiling.Theairsmeltdampandmusty.
“Doyouwantmetocleanthisroom?”sheasked.
OldMr.Crackenthorpeshookhisheadfiercely.
“No,youdon’t!Ikeepthisroomlockedup.Emmawouldliketofiddleaboutinhere,butIdon’tlether.It’smyroom.Seethesestones?They’regeologicalspecimens.”
Lucylookedatacollectionoftwelveorfourteenlumpsofrock,somepolishedandsomerough.
“Lovely,”shesaidkindly.“Mostinteresting.”
“You’requiteright.Theyareinteresting.You’reanintelligentgirl.Idon’tshowthemtoeverybody.I’llshowyousomemorethings.”
“It’sverykindofyou,butIoughtreallytogetonwithwhatIwasdoing.Withsixpeopleinthehouse—”
“Eatingmeoutofhouseandhome…That’salltheydowhentheycomedownhere!Eat.Theydon’toffertopayforwhattheyeat,either.Leeches!Allwaitingformetodie.Well,I’mnotgoingtodiejustyet—I’mnotgoingtodietopleasethem.I’malotstrongerthanevenEmmaknows.”
“I’msureyouare.”
“I’mnotsoold,either.ShemakesoutI’manoldman,treatsmeasanoldman.Youdon’tthinkI’mold,doyou?”
“Ofcoursenot,”saidLucy.
“Sensiblegirl.Takealookatthis.”
Heindicatedalargefadedchartwhichhungonthewall.Itwas,Lucysaw,agenealogicaltree;someofitdonesofinelythatonewouldhavetohaveamagnifyingglasstoreadthenames.Theremoteforebears,however,werewritteninlargeproudcapitalswithcrownsoverthenames.
“DescendedfromKings,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“Mymother’sfamilytree,thatis—notmyfather’s.Hewasavulgarian!Commonoldman!Didn’tlikeme.Iwasacutabovehimalways.Tookaftermymother’sside.Hadanaturalfeelingforartandclassicalsculpture—hecouldn’tseeanythinginit—sillyoldfool.Don’tremembermymother—diedwhenIwastwo.Lastofherfamily.Theyweresoldupandshemarriedmyfather.Butyoulookthere—EdwardtheConfessor—EthelredtheUnready—wholelotofthem.AndthatwasbeforetheNormanscame.BeforetheNormans—that’ssomethingisn’tit?”
“Itisindeed.”
“NowI’llshowyousomethingelse.”Heguidedheracrosstheroomtoanenormouspieceofdarkoakfurniture.Lucywasratheruneasilyconsciousofthestrengthofthefingersclutchingherarm.TherecertainlyseemednothingfeebleaboutoldMr.Crackenthorpetoday.“Seethis?CameoutofLushington—thatwasmymother’speople’splace.Elizabethan,thisis.Takesfourmentomoveit.Youdon’tknowwhatIkeepinsideit,doyou?Likemetoshowyou?”
“Doshowme,”saidLucypolitely.
“Curious,aren’tyou?Allwomenarecurious.”Hetookakeyfromhispocketandunlockedthedoorofthelowercupboard.Fromthishetookoutasurprisinglynew-lookingcashbox.This,again,heunlocked.
“Takealookhere,mydear.Knowwhattheseare?”
Heliftedoutasmallpaper-wrappedcylinderandpulledawaythepaperfromoneend.Goldcoinstrickledoutintohispalm.
“Lookatthese,younglady.Lookat’em,hold’em,touch’em.Knowwhattheyare?Betyoudon’t!You’retooyoung.Sovereigns—that’swhattheyare.Goodgoldensovereigns.Whatweusedbeforeallthesedirtybitsofpapercameintofashion.Worthalotmorethansillypiecesofpaper.Collectedthemalongtimeback.I’vegototherthingsinthisbox,too.Lotsofthingsputawayinhere.Allreadyforthefuture.Emmadoesn’tknow—nobodyknows.It’soursecret,see,girl?D’youknowwhyI’mtellingyouandshowingyou?”
“Why?”
“BecauseIdon’twantyoutothinkI’maplayed-outsickoldman.Lotsoflifeintheolddogyet.Mywife’sbeendeadalongtime.Alwaysobjectingtoeverything,shewas.Didn’tlikethenamesIgavethechildren—goodSaxonnames—nointerestinthatfamilytree.Ineverpaidanyattentiontowhatshesaid,though—andshewasapoor-spiritedcreature—alwaysgavein.Nowyou’reaspiritedfilly—averynicefillyindeed.I’llgiveyousomeadvice.Don’tthrowyourselfawayonayoungman.Youngmenarefools!Youwanttotakecareofyourfuture.Youwait…”HisfingerspressedintoLucy’sarm.Heleanedtoherear.“Idon’tsaymorethanthat.Wait.ThosesillyfoolsthinkI’mgoingtodiesoon.I’mnot.Shouldn’tbesurprisedifIoutlivedthelotofthem.Andthenwe’llsee!Oh,yes,thenwe’llsee.Harold’sgotnochildren.CedricandAlfredaren’tmarried.Emma—Emmawillnevermarrynow.She’sabitsweetonQuimper—butQuimperwillneverthinkofmarryingEmma.There’sAlexander,ofcourse.Yes,there’sAlexander…But,youknow,I’mfondofAlexander…Yes,that’sawkward.I’mfondofAlexander.”
Hepausedforamoment,frowning,thensaid:
“Well,girl,whataboutit?Whataboutit,eh?”
“MissEyelesbarrow….”
Emma’svoicecamefaintlythroughtheclosedstudydoor.Lucyseizedgratefullyattheopportunity.
“MissCrackenthorpe’scallingme.Imustgo.Thankyousomuchforallyouhaveshownme….”
“Don’tforget…oursecret….”
“Iwon’tforget,”saidLucy,andhurriedoutintothehallnotquitecertainastowhethershehadorhadnotjustreceivedaconditionalproposalofmarriage.
II
DermotCraddocksatathisdeskinhisroomatNewScotlandYard.Hewasslumpedsidewaysinaneasyattitude,andwastalkingintothetelephonereceiverwhichheheldwithoneelbowproppeduponthetable.HewasspeakinginFrench,alanguageinwhichhewastolerablyproficient.
“Itwasonlyanidea,youunderstand,”hesaid.
“Butdecidedlyitisanidea,”saidthevoiceattheotherend,fromthePrefectureinParis.“AlreadyIhavesetinquiriesinmotioninthosecircles.Myagentreportsthathehastwoorthreepromisinglinesofinquiry.Unlessthereissomefamilylife—oralover,thesewomendropoutofcirculationveryeasilyandnoonetroublesaboutthem.Theyhavegoneontour,orthereissomenewman—itisnoone’sbusinesstoask.Itisapitythatthephotographyousentmeissodifficultforanyonetorecognize.Strangulationitdoesnotimprovetheappearance.Still,thatcannotbehelped.Igonowtostudythelatestreportsofmyagentsonthismatter.Therewillbe,perhaps,something.Aurevoir,moncher.”
AsCraddockreiteratedthefarewellpolitely,aslipofpaperwasplacedbeforehimonthedesk.Itread:
MissEmmaCrackenthorpe.ToseeDetective-InspectorCraddock.RutherfordHallcase.
Hereplacedthereceiverandsaidtothepoliceconstable:
“BringMissCrackenthorpeup.”
Ashewaited,heleanedbackinhischair,thinking.
Sohehadnotbeenmistaken—therewassomethingthatEmmaCrackenthorpeknew—notmuch,perhaps,butsomething.Andshehaddecidedtotellhim.
Herosetohisfeetasshewasshownin,shookhands,settledherinachairandofferedheracigarettewhichsherefused.Thentherewasamomentarypause.Shewastrying,hedecided,tofindjustthewordsshewanted.Heleanedforward.
“Youhavecometotellmesomething,MissCrackenthorpe?CanIhelpyou?You’vebeenworriedaboutsomething,haven’tyou?Somelittlething,perhaps,thatyoufeelprobablyhasnothingtodowiththecase,butontheotherhand,justmightberelatedtoit.You’vecomeheretotellmeaboutit,haven’tyou?It’stodo,perhaps,withtheidentityofthedeadwoman.Youthinkyouknowwhoshewas?”
“No,no,notquitethat.Ithinkreallyit’smostunlikely.But—”
“Butthereissomepossibilitythatworriesyou.You’dbettertellmeaboutit—becausewemaybeabletosetyourmindatrest.”
Emmatookamomentortwobeforespeaking.Thenshesaid:
“Youhaveseenthreeofmybrothers.Ihadanotherbrother,Edmund,whowaskilledinthewar.Shortlybeforehewaskilled,hewrotetomefromFrance.”
Sheopenedherhandbagandtookoutawornandfadedletter.Shereadfromit:
“Ihopethiswon’tbeashocktoyou,Emmie,butI’mgettingmarried—toaFrenchgirl.It’sallbeenverysudden—butIknowyou’llbefondofMartine—andlookafterherifanythinghappenstome.Willwriteyouallthedetailsinmynext—bywhichtimeIshallbeamarriedman.Breakitgentlytotheoldman,won’tyou?He’llprobablygoupinsmoke.”
InspectorCraddockheldoutahand.Emmahesitated,thenputtheletterintoit.Shewenton,speakingrapidly.
“Twodaysafterreceivingthisletter,wehadatelegramsayingEdmundwasMissing,believedkilled.Laterhewasdefinitelyreportedkilled.ItwasjustbeforeDunkirk—andatimeofgreatconfusion.TherewasnoArmyrecord,asfarasIcouldfindout,ofhishavingbeenmarried—butasIsay,itwasaconfusedtime.Ineverheardanythingfromthegirl.Itried,afterthewar,tomakesomeinquiries,butIonlyknewherChristiannameandthatpartofFrancehadbeenoccupiedbytheGermansanditwasdifficulttofindoutanything,withoutknowingthegirl’ssurnameandmoreabouther.IntheendIassumedthatthemarriagehadnevertakenplaceandthatthegirlhadprobablymarriedsomeoneelsebeforetheendofthewar,ormightpossiblyherselfhavebeenkilled.”
InspectorCraddocknodded.Emmawenton
“Imaginemysurprisetoreceivealetterjustaboutamonthago,signedMartineCrackenthorpe.”
“Youhaveit?”
Emmatookitfromherbagandhandedittohim.Craddockreaditwithinterest.ItwaswritteninaslantingFrenchhand—aneducatedhand.
DearMademoiselle,Ihopeitwillnotbeashocktoyoutogetthisletter.IdonotevenknowifyourbrotherEdmundtoldyouthatweweremarried.Hesaidhewasgoingtodoso.Hewaskilledonlyafewdaysafter
ourmarriageandatthesametimetheGermansoccupiedourvillage.Afterthewarended,IdecidedthatIwouldnotwritetoyouorapproachyou,thoughEdmundhadtoldmetodoso.ButbythenIhadmadeanewlifeformyself,anditwasnotnecessary.Butnowthingshavechanged.Formyson’ssakeIwritethisletter.Heisyourbrother’sson,yousee,andI—Icannolongergivehimtheadvantagesheoughttohave.IamcomingtoEnglandearlynextweek.WillyouletmeknowifIcancomeandseeyou?Myaddressforlettersis126ElversCrescent,N.10.Ihopeagainthiswillnotbethegreatshocktoyou.Iremainwithassuranceofmyexcellentsentiments,MartineCrackenthorpe
Craddockwassilentforamomentortwo.Herereadthelettercarefullybeforehandingitback.
“Whatdidyoudoonreceiptofthisletter,MissCrackenthorpe?”
“Mybrother-in-law,BryanEastley,happenedtobestayingwithmeatthetimeandItalkedtohimaboutit.ThenIrangupmybrotherHaroldinLondonandconsultedhimaboutit.Haroldwasratherscepticalaboutthewholethingandadvisedextremecaution.Wemust,hesaid,gocarefullyintothiswoman’scredentials.”
Emmapausedandthenwenton:
“That,ofcourse,wasonlycommonsenseandIquiteagreed.Butifthisgirl—woman—wasreallytheMartineaboutwhomEdmundhadwrittentome,Ifeltthatwemustmakeherwelcome.Iwrotetotheaddressshegaveinherletters,invitinghertocomedowntoRutherfordHallandmeetus.AfewdayslaterIreceivedatelegramfromLondon:VerysorryforcedtoreturntoFranceunexpectedly.Martine.Therewasnofurtherletterornewsofanykind.”
“Allthistookplace—when?”
Emmafrowned.
“ItwasshortlybeforeChristmas.Iknow,becauseIwantedtosuggestherspendingChristmaswithus—butmyfatherwouldnothearofit—soIsuggestedshecouldcomedowntheweekendafterChristmaswhilethefamilywouldstillbethere.IthinkthewiresayingshewasreturningtoFrancecameactuallyafewdaysbeforeChristmas.”
“AndyoubelievethatthiswomanwhosebodywasfoundinthesarcophagusmightbethisMartine?”
“No,ofcourseIdon’t.Butwhenyousaidshewasprobablyaforeigner—well,Icouldn’thelpwondering…ifperhaps….”
Hervoicediedaway.
Craddockspokequicklyandreassuringly
“Youdidquiterighttotellmeaboutthis.We’lllookintoit.IshouldsaythereisprobablylittledoubtthatthewomanwhowrotetoyouactuallydidgobacktoFranceandistherenowaliveandwell.Ontheotherhand,thereisacertaincoincidenceofdates,asyouyourselfhavebeencleverenoughtorealize.Asyouheardattheinquest,thewoman’sdeathaccordingtothepolicesurgeon’sevidencemusthaveoccurredaboutthreetofourweeksago.Nowdon’tworry,MissCrackenthorpe,justleaveittous.”Headdedcasually,“YouconsultedMr.HaroldCrackenthorpe.Whataboutyourfatherandyourotherbrothers?”
“Ihadtotellmyfather,ofcourse.Hegotveryworkedup,”shesmiledfaintly.“Hewasconvinceditwasaputupthingtogetmoneyoutofus.Myfathergetsveryexcitedaboutmoney.Hebelieves,orpretendstobelieve,thatheisaverypoorman,andthathemustsaveeverypennyhecan.Ibelieveelderlypeopledogetobsessionsofthatkindsometimes.It’snottrue,ofcourse,hehasaverylargeincomeanddoesn’tactuallyspendaquarterofit—orusednottountilthesedaysofhighincometax.Certainlyhehasalargeamountofsavingsputby.”Shepausedandthenwenton.“Itoldmyothertwobrothersalso.Alfredseemedtoconsideritratherajoke,thoughhe,too,thoughtitwasalmostcertainlyanimposture.Cedricjustwasn’tinterested—he’sinclinedtobeself-centred.OurideawasthatthefamilywouldreceiveMartine,andthatourlawyer,Mr.Wimborne,shouldalsobeaskedtobepresent.”
“WhatdidMr.Wimbornethinkabouttheletter?”
“Wehadn’tgotasfarasdiscussingthematterwithhim.WewereonthepointofdoingsowhenMartine’stelegramarrived.”
“Youhavetakennofurthersteps?”
“Yes.IwrotetotheaddressinLondonwithPleaseforwardontheenvelope,butIhavehadnoreplyofanykind.”
“Ratheracuriousbusiness…Hm….”
Helookedathersharply.
“Whatdoyouyourselfthinkaboutit?”
“Idon’tknowwhattothink.”
“Whatwereyourreactionsatthetime?Didyouthinktheletterwasgenuine—ordidyouagreewithyourfatherandbrothers?Whataboutyourbrother-in-law,bytheway,whatdidhethink?”
“Oh,Bryanthoughtthattheletterwasgenuine.”
“Andyou?”
“I—wasn’tsure.”
“Andwhatwereyourfeelingsaboutit—supposingthatthisgirlreallywasyourbrotherEdmund’swidow?”
Emma’sfacesoftened.
“IwasveryfondofEdmund.Hewasmyfavouritebrother.TheletterseemedtomeexactlythesortofletterthatagirllikeMartinewouldwriteunderthecircumstances.Thecourseofeventsshedescribedwasentirelynatural.Iassumedthatbythetimethewarendedshehadeithermarriedagainorwaswithsomemanwhowasprotectingherandthechild.Thenperhaps,thismanhaddied,orlefther,anditthenseemedrighttohertoapplytoEdmund’sfamily—ashehimselfhadwantedhertodo.Theletterseemedgenuineandnaturaltome—but,ofcourse,Haroldpointedoutthatifitwaswrittenbyanimposter,itwouldbewrittenbysomewomanwhohadknownMartineandwhowasinpossessionofallthefacts,andsowouldwriteathoroughlyplausibleletter.Ihadtoadmitthejusticeofthat—butallthesame….”
Shestopped.
“Youwantedittobetrue?”saidCraddockgently.
Shelookedathimgratefully.
“Yes,Iwantedittobetrue.IwouldbesogladifEdmundhadleftason.”
Craddocknodded.
“Asyousay,theletter,onthefaceofit,soundsgenuineenough.Whatissurprisingisthesequel;MartineCrackenthorpe’sabruptdepartureforParisandthefactthatyouhaveneverheardfromhersince.Youhadrepliedkindlytoher,werepreparedtowelcomeher.Why,evenifshehadtoreturntoFrance,didshenotwriteagain?Thatis,presuminghertobethegenuinearticle.Ifshewereanimposter,ofcourse,it’seasiertoexplain.IthoughtperhapsthatyoumighthaveconsultedMr.Wimborne,andthathemighthaveinstitutedinquirieswhichalarmedthewoman.That,youtellme,isnotso.Butit’sstillpossiblethatoneorotherofyourbrothersmayhavedonesomethingofthekind.It’spossiblethatthisMartinemayhavehadabackgroundthatwouldnotstandinvestigation.ShemayhaveassumedthatshewouldbedealingonlywithEdmund’saffectionatesister,notwithhard-headedsuspiciousbusinessmen.Shemayhavehopedtogetsumsofmoneyoutofyouforthechild(hardlyachildnow—aboypresumablyoffifteenorsixteen)withoutmanyquestionsbeingasked.Butinsteadshefoundshewasgoingtorunupagainstsomethingquitedifferent.Afterall,Ishouldimaginethatseriouslegalaspectswouldarise.IfEdmundCrackenthorpeleftason,borninwedlock,hewouldbeoneoftheheirstoyourgrandfather’sestate?”
Emmanodded.
“Moreover,fromwhatIhavebeentold,hewouldinduecourseinheritRutherfordHallandthelandroundit—veryvaluablebuildingland,probably,bynow.”
Emmalookedslightlystartled.
“Yes,Ihadn’tthoughtofthat.”
“Well,Ishouldn’tworry,”saidInspectorCraddock.“Youdidquiterighttocomeandtellme.Ishallmakeenquiries,butitseemstomehighlyprobablythatthereisnoconnectionbetweenthewomanwhowrotetheletter(andwhowasprobablytryingtocashinonaswindle)andthewomanwhosebodywasfoundinthesarcophagus.”
Emmarosewithasighofrelief.
“I’msogladI’vetoldyou.You’vebeenverykind.”
Craddockaccompaniedhertothedoor.
ThenherangforDetective-SergeantWetherall.
“Bob,I’vegotajobforyou.Goto126ElversCrescent,N.10.TakephotographsoftheRutherfordHallwomanwithyou.SeewhatyoucanfindoutaboutawomancallingherselfMrs.Crackenthorpe—Mrs.MartineCrackenthorpe,whowaseitherlivingthere,orcallingforlettersthere,betweenthedatesof,say,15thtotheendofDecember.”
“Right,sir.”
Craddockbusiedhimselfwithvariousothermattersthatwerewaitingattentiononhisdesk.Intheafternoonhewenttoseeatheatricalagentwhowasafriendofhis.Hisinquirieswerenotfruitful.
LaterinthedaywhenhereturnedtohisofficehefoundawirefromParisonhisdesk.
ParticularsgivenbyyoumightapplytoAnnaStravinskaofBalletMaritski.Suggestyoucomeover.Dessin,Prefecture.
Craddockheavedabigsighofrelief,andhisbrowcleared.
Atlast!Somuch,hethought,fortheMartineCrackenthorpehare…HedecidedtotakethenightferrytoParis.
Thirteen
I
“It’ssoverykindofyoutohaveaskedmetotaketeawithyou,”saidMissMarpletoEmmaCrackenthorpe.
MissMarplewaslookingparticularlywoollyandfluffy—apictureofasweetoldlady.Shebeamedasshelookedroundher—atHaroldCrackenthorpeinhiswell-cutdarksuit,atAlfredhandinghersandwicheswithacharmingsmile,atCedricstandingbythemantelpieceinaraggedtweedjacketscowlingattherestofhisfamily.
“Weareverypleasedthatyoucouldcome,”saidEmmapolitely.
TherewasnohintofthescenewhichhadtakenplaceafterlunchthatdaywhenEmmahadexclaimed:“Dearme,Iquiteforgot.ItoldMissEyelesbarrowthatshecouldbringheroldaunttoteatoday.”
“Putheroff,”saidHaroldbrusquely.“We’vestillgotalottotalkabout.Wedon’twantstrangershere.”
“Letherhaveteainthekitchenorsomewherewiththegirl,”saidAlfred.
“Oh,no,Icouldn’tdothat,”saidEmmafirmly.“Thatwouldbeveryrude.”
“Oh,lethercome,”saidCedric.“WecandrawheroutalittleaboutthewonderfulLucy.Ishouldliketoknowmoreaboutthatgirl,Imustsay.I’mnotsurethatItrusther.Toosmartbyhalf.”
“She’sverywellconnectedandquitegenuine,”saidHarold.“I’vemadeitmybusinesstofindout.Onewantedtobesure.Pokingaboutandfindingthebodythewayshedid.”
“Ifweonlyknewwhothisdamnedwomanwas,”saidAlfred.
Haroldaddedangrily:
“Imustsay,Emma,thatIthinkyouwereoutofyoursenses,goingandsuggestingtothepolicethatthedeadwomanmightbeEdmund’sFrenchgirlfriend.Itwillmakethemconvincedthatshecamehere,andthatprobablyoneorotherofuskilledher.”
“Oh,no,Harold.Don’texaggerate.”
“Harold’squiteright,”saidAlfred.“Whateverpossessedyou,Idon’tknow.I’veafeelingI’mbeingfollowedeverywhereIgobyplainclothesmen.”
“Itoldhernottodoit,”saidCedric.“ThenQuimperbackedherup.”
“It’snobusinessofhis,”saidHaroldangrily.“LethimsticktopillsandpowdersandNationalHealth.”
“Oh,dostopquarrelling,”saidEmmawearily.“I’mreallygladthisoldMissWhatshernameiscomingtotea.Itwilldousallgoodtohaveastrangerhereandbepreventedfromgoingoverandoverthesamethingsagainandagain.Imustgoandtidymyselfupalittle.”
Shelefttheroom.
“ThisLucyEyelesbarrow,”saidHarold,andstopped.“AsCedricsays,itisoddthatsheshouldnoseaboutinthebarnandgoopeningupasarcophagus—reallyaHerculeantask.Perhapsweoughttotakesteps.Herattitude,Ithought,wasratherantagonisticatlunch—”
“Leavehertome,”saidAlfred.“I’llsoonfindoutifshe’suptoanything.”
“Imean,whyopenupthatsarcophagus?”
“Perhapssheisn’treallyLucyEyelesbarrowatall,”suggestedCedric.
“Butwhatwouldbethepoint—?”Haroldlookedthoroughlyupset.“Oh,damn!”
Theylookedateachotherwithworriedfaces.
“Andhere’sthispestilentialoldwomancomingtotea.Justwhenwewanttothink.”
“We’lltalkthingsoverthisevening,”saidAlfred.“Inthemeantime,we’llpumptheoldauntaboutLucy.”
SoMissMarplehaddulybeenfetchedbyLucyandinstalledbythefireandshewasnowsmilingupatAlfredashehandedhersandwicheswiththeapprovalshealwaysshowedtowardsagood-lookingman.
“Thankyousomuch…mayIask…?Oh,eggandsardine,yes,thatwillbeverynice.I’mafraidI’malwaysrathergreedyovermytea.Asonegetson,youknow…And,ofcourse,atnightonlyaverylightmeal…Ihavetobecareful.”Sheturnedtoherhostessoncemore.“Whatabeautifulhouseyouhave.Andsomanybeautifulthingsinit.Thosebronzes,now,theyremindmeofsomemyfatherbought—attheParisExhibition.Really,yourgrandfatherdid?Intheclassicalstyle,aren’tthey?Veryhandsome.Howdelightfulforyouhavingyourbrotherswithyou?Sooftenfamiliesarescattered—India,thoughIsupposethatisalldonewithnow—andAfrica—thewestcoast,suchabadclimate.”
“TwoofmybrothersliveinLondon.”
“Thatisveryniceforyou.”
“ButmybrotherCedricisapainterandlivesinIbiza,oneoftheBalearicIslands.”
“Paintersaresofondofislands,aretheynot?”saidMissMarple.“Chopin—thatwasMajorca,wasitnot?Buthewasamusician.ItisGauguinIamthinkingof.Asadlife—misspent,onefeels.Imyselfneverreallycareforpaintingsofnativewomen—andalthoughIknowheisverymuchadmired—Ihavenevercaredforthatluridmustardcolour.Onereallyfeelsquitebiliouslookingathispictures.”
SheeyedCedricwithaslightlydisapprovingair.
“TellusaboutLucyasachild,MissMarple,”saidCedric.
Shesmiledupathimdelightedly.
“Lucywasalwayssoclever,”shesaid.“Yes,youwere,dear—nowdon’tinterrupt.Quiteremarkableatarithmetic.Why,Irememberwhenthebutcheroverchargedmefortopsideofbeef….”
MissMarplelaunchedfullsteamaheadintoreminiscencesofLucy’schildhoodandfromtheretoexperiencesofherowninvillagelife.
ThestreamofreminiscencewasinterruptedbytheentryofBryanandtheboysratherwetanddirtyasaresultofanenthusiasticsearchforclues.TeawasbroughtinandwithitcameDr.Quimperwhoraisedhiseyebrowsslightlyashelookedroundafteracknowledginghisintroductiontotheoldlady.
“Hopeyourfather’snotundertheweather,Emma?”
“Oh,no—thatis,hewasjustalittletiredthisafternoon—”
“Avoidingvisitors,Iexpect,”saidMissMarplewitharoguishsmile.“HowwellIremembermyowndearfather.‘Gotalotofoldpussiescoming?’hewouldsaytomymother.‘Sendmyteaintothestudy.’Verynaughtyaboutit,hewas.”
“Pleasedon’tthink—”beganEmma,butCedriccutin.
“It’salwaysteainthestudywhenhisdearsonscomedown.Psychologicallytobeexpected,eh,Doctor?”
Dr.Quimper,whowasdevouringsandwichesandcoffeecakewiththefrankappreciationofamanwhohasusuallytoolittletimetospendonhismeals,said:
“Psychology’sallrightifit’slefttothepsychologists.Troubleis,everyoneisanamateurpsychologistnowadays.Mypatientstellmeexactlywhatcomplexesandneurosesthey’resufferingfrom,withoutgivingmeachancetotellthem.Thanks,Emma,Iwillhaveanothercup.Notimeforlunchtoday.”
“Adoctor’slife,Ialwaysthink,issonobleandself-sacrificing,”saidMissMarple.
“Youcan’tknowmanydoctors,”saidDr.Quimper.“Leechestheyusedtobecalled,andleechestheyoftenare!Atanyrate,wedogetpaidnowadays,theStateseestothat.Nosendinginofbillsthatyouknowwon’teverbemet.Troubleisthatallone’spatientsaredeterminedtogeteverythingtheycan‘outoftheGovernment,’andasaresult,iflittleJennycoughstwiceinthenight,orlittleTommyeatsacoupleofgreenapples,outthepoordoctorhastocomeinthemiddleofthenight.Oh,well!Gloriouscake,Emma.Whatacookyouare!”
“Notmine.MissEyelesbarrow’s.”
“Youmake’emjustasgood,”saidQuimperloyally.
“WillyoucomeandseeFather?”
Sheroseandthedoctorfollowedher.MissMarplewatchedthemleavetheroom.
“MissCrackenthorpeisaverydevoteddaughter,Isee,”shesaid.
“Can’timaginehowshestickstheoldmanmyself,”saidtheoutspokenCedric.
“Shehasaverycomfortablehomehere,andfatherisverymuchattachedtoher,”saidHaroldquickly.
“Em’sallright,”saidCedric.“Borntobeanoldmaid.”
TherewasafainttwinkleinMissMarple’seyeasshesaid:
“Oh,doyouthinkso?”
Haroldsaidquickly:
“Mybrotherdidn’tusethetermoldmaidinanyderogatorysense,MissMarple.”
“Oh,Iwasn’toffended,”saidMissMarple.“Ijustwonderedifhewasright.Ishouldn’tsaymyselfthatMissCrackenthorpewouldbeanoldmaid.She’sthetype,Ithink,that’squitelikelytomarrylateinlife—andmakeasuccessofit.”
“Notverylikelylivinghere,”saidCedric.“Neverseesanybodyshecouldmarry.”
MissMarple’stwinklebecamemorepronouncedthanever.
“Therearealwaysclergymen—anddoctors.”
Hereyes,gentleandmischievous,wentfromonetoanother.
Itwasclearthatshehadsuggestedtothemsomethingthattheyhadneverthoughtofandwhichtheydidnotfindoverpleasing.
MissMarplerosetoherfeet,droppingasshedidso,severallittlewoollyscarvesandherbag.
Thethreebrothersweremostattentivepickingthingsup.
“Sokindofyou,”flutedMissMarple.“Oh,yes,andmylittlebluemuffler.Yes—asIsay—sokindtoaskmehere.I’vebeenpicturing,youknow,justwhatyourhomewaslike—sothatIcanvisualizedearLucyworkinghere.”
“Perfecthomeconditions—withmurderthrownin,”saidCedric.
“Cedric!”Harold’svoicewasangry.
MissMarplesmiledupatCedric.
“Doyouknowwhoyouremindmeof?YoungThomasEade,ourbankmanager’sson.Alwaysouttoshockpeople.Itdidn’tdoinbankingcircles,ofcourse,sohewenttotheWestIndies…Hecamehomewhenhisfatherdiedandinheritedquitealotofmoney.Soniceforhim.Hewasalwaysbetteratspendingmoneythanmakingit.”
II
LucytookMissMarplehome.Onherwaybackafiguresteppedoutofthedarknessandstoodintheglareoftheheadlightsjustasshewasabouttoturnintothebacklane.HehelduphishandandLucyrecognizedAlfredCrackenthorpe.
“That’sbetter,”heobserved,ashegotin.“Brr,it’scold!IfanciedI’dlikeanicebracingwalk.Ididn’t.Takentheoldladyhomeallright?”
“Yes.Sheenjoyedherselfverymuch.”
“Onecouldseethat.Funnywhatatasteoldladieshaveforanykindofsociety,howeverdull.And,really,nothingcouldbedullerthanRutherfordHall.TwodayshereisaboutasmuchasIcanstand.Howdoyoumanagetostickitout,Lucy?Don’tmindifIcallyouLucy,doyou?”
“Notatall.Idon’tfinditdull.Ofcoursewithmeit’snotapermanency.”
“I’vebeenwatchingyou—you’reasmartgirl,Lucy.Toosmarttowasteyourselfcookingandcleaning.”
“Thankyou,butIprefercookingandcleaningtotheofficedesk.”
“SowouldI.Butthereareotherwaysofliving.Youcouldbeafreelance.”
“Iam.”
“Notthisway.Imean,workingforyourself,pittingyourwitsagainst—”
“Againstwhat?”
“Thepowersthatbe!Allthesillypettifoggingrulesandregulationsthathamperusallnowadays.Theinterestingthingisthere’salwaysawayroundthemifyou’resmartenoughtofindit.Andyou’resmart.Comenow,doestheideaappealtoyou?”
“Possibly.”
Lucymanoeuvredthecarintothestableyard.
“Notgoingtocommityourself?”
“I’dhavetohearmore.”
“Frankly,mydeargirl,Icoulduseyou.You’vegotthesortofmannerthat’sinvaluable—createsconfidence.”
“Doyouwantmetohelpyousellgoldbricks?”
“Nothingsorisky.Justalittleby-passingofthelaw—nomore.”Hishandslippedupherarm.“You’readamnedattractivegirl,Lucy.I’dlikeyouasapartner.”
“I’mflattered.”
“Meaningnothingdoing?Thinkaboutit.Thinkofthefun.Thepleasureyou’dgetoutofoutwittingallthesober-sides.Thetroubleis,oneneedscapital.”
“I’mafraidIhaven’tgotany.”
“Oh,itwasn’tatouch!I’llbelayingmyhandsonsomebeforelong.MyreveredPapacan’tliveforever,meanoldbrute.Whenhepopsoff,Ilaymyhandsonsomerealmoney.Whataboutit,Lucy?”
“Whataretheterms?”
“Marriageifyoufancyit.Womenseemto,nomatterhowadvancedandself-supportingtheyare.Besides,marriedwomencan’tbemadetogiveevidenceagainsttheirhusbands.”
“Notsoflattering!”
“Comeoffit,Lucy.Don’tyourealizeI’vefallenforyou?”
RathertohersurpriseLucywasawareofaqueerfascination.TherewasaqualityofcharmaboutAlfred,perhapsduetosheeranimalmagnetism.Shelaughedandslippedfromhisencirclingarm.
“Thisisnotimefordalliance.There’sdinnertothinkabout.”
“Sothereis,Lucy,andyou’realovelycook.What’sfordinner?”
“Waitandsee!You’reasbadastheboys!”
TheyenteredthehouseandLucyhurriedtothekitchen.ShewasrathersurprisedtobeinterruptedinherpreparationsbyHaroldCrackenthorpe.
“MissEyelesbarrow,canIspeaktoyouaboutsomething?”
“Wouldlaterdo,Mr.Crackenthorpe?I’mratherbehindhand.”
“Certainly.Certainly.Afterdinner?”
“Yes,thatwilldo.”
Dinnerwasdulyservedandappreciated.LucyfinishedwashingupandcameoutintothehalltofindHaroldCrackenthorpewaitingforher.
“Yes,Mr.Crackenthorpe?”
“Shallwecomeinhere?”Heopenedthedoorofthedrawingroomandledtheway.Heshutthedoorbehindher.
“Ishallbeleavingearlyinthemorning,”heexplained,“butIwanttotellyouhowstruckIhavebeenbyyourability.”
“Thankyou,”saidLucy,feelingalittlesurprised.
“Ifeelthatyourtalentsarewastedhere—definitelywasted.”
“Doyou?Idon’t.”
Atanyrate,hecan’taskmetomarryhim,thoughtLucy.He’sgotawifealready.
“Isuggestthathavingverykindlyseenusthroughthislamentablecrisis,youcalluponmeinLondon.Ifyouwillringupandmakeanappointment,Iwillleaveinstructionswithmysecretary.Thetruthisthatwecouldusesomeoneofyouroutstandingabilityinthefirm.Wecoulddiscussfullyinwhatfieldyourtalentswouldbemostablyemployed.Icanofferyou,MissEyelesbarrow,averygoodsalaryindeedwithbrilliantprospects.Ithinkyouwillbeagreeablysurprised.”
Hissmilewasmagnanimous.
Lucysaiddemurely:
“Thankyou,Mr.Crackenthorpe,I’llthinkaboutit.”
“Don’twaittoolong.Theseopportunitiesshouldnotbemissedbyayoungwomananxioustomakeherwayintheworld.”
Againhisteethflashed.
“Goodnight,MissEyelesbarrow,sleepwell.”
“Well,”saidLucytoherself,“well…thisisallveryinteresting….”
Onherwayuptobed,LucyencounteredCedriconthestairs.
“Lookhere,Lucy,there’ssomethingIwanttosaytoyou.”
“DoyouwantmetomarryyouandcometoIbizaandlookafteryou?”
Cedriclookedverymuchtakenaback,andslightlyalarmed.
“Ineverthoughtofsuchathing.”
“Sorry.Mymistake.”
“Ijustwantedtoknowifyou’veatimetableinthehouse?”
“Isthatall?There’soneonthehalltable.”
“Youknow,”saidCedric,reprovingly,“youshouldn’tgoaboutthinkingeveryonewantstomarryyou.You’requiteagood-lookinggirlbutnotasgood-lookingasallthat.There’sanameforthatsortofthing—itgrowsonyouandyougetworse.Actually,you’rethelastgirlintheworldIshouldcaretomarry.Thelastgirl.”
“Indeed?”saidLucy.“Youneedn’trubitin.Perhapsyou’dprefermeasastepmother?”
“What’sthat?”Cedricstaredatherstupefied.
“Youheardme,”saidLucy,andwentintoherroomandshutthedoor.
Fourteen
I
DermotCraddockwasfraternizingwithArmandDessinoftheParisPrefecture.Thetwomenhadmetononeortwooccasionsandgotonwelltogether.SinceCraddockspokeFrenchfluently,mostoftheirconversationwasconductedinthatlanguage.
“Itisanideaonly,”Dessinwarnedhim,“Ihaveapicturehereofthecorpsdeballet—thatisshe,thefourthfromtheleft—itsaysanythingtoyou,yes?”
InspectorCraddocksaidthatactuallyitdidn’t.Astrangledyoungwomanisnoteasytorecognize,andinthispicturealltheyoungwomenconcernedwereheavilymadeupandwerewearingextravagantbirdheaddresses.
“Itcouldbe,”hesaid.“Ican’tgofurtherthanthat.Whowasshe?Whatdoyouknowabouther?”
“Almostlessthannothing,”saidtheothercheerfully.“Shewasnotimportant,yousee.AndtheBalletMaritski—itisnotimportant,either.Itplaysinsuburbantheatresandgoesontour—ithasnorealnames,nostars,nofamousballerinas.ButIwilltakeyoutoseeMadameJoiletwhorunsit.”
MadameJoiletwasabriskbusiness-likeFrenchwomanwithashrewdeye,asmallmoustache,andagooddealofadiposetissue.
“Me,Idonotlikethepolice!”Shescowledatthem,withoutcamouflagingherdislikeofthevisit.“Always,iftheycan,theymakemeembarrassments.”
“No,no,Madame,youmustnotsaythat,”saidDessin,whowasatallthinmelancholy-lookingman.“WhenhaveIevercausedyouembarrassments?”
“Overthatlittlefoolwhodrankthecarbolicacid,”saidMadameJoiletpromptly.“Andallbecauseshehasfalleninlovewiththechefd’orchestre—whodoesnotcareforwomenandhasothertastes.Overthatyoumadethebigbrouhaha!Whichisnotgoodformybeautifulballet.”
“Onthecontrary,bigboxofficebusiness,”saidDessin.“Andthatwasthreeyearsago.Youshouldnotbearmalice.Nowaboutthisgirl,AnnaStravinska.”
“Well,whatabouther?”saidMadamecautiously.
“IssheRussian?”askedInspectorCraddock.
“No,indeed.Youmean,becauseofhername?Buttheyallcallthemselvesnameslikethat,thesegirls.Shewasnotimportant,shedidnotdancewell,shewasnotparticularlygood-looking.Elleétaitassezbien,c’esttout.Shedancedwellenoughforthecorpsdeballet—butnosolos.”
“WassheFrench?”
“Perhaps.ShehadaFrenchpassport.ButshetoldmeoncethatshehadanEnglishhusband.”
“ShetoldyouthatshehadanEnglishhusband?Alive—ordead?”
MadameJoiletshruggedhershoulders.
“Dead,orhehadlefther.HowshouldIknowwhich?Thesegirls—thereisalwayssometroublewithmen—”
“Whendidyoulastseeher?”
“ItakemycompanytoLondonforsixweeks.WeplayatTor-quay,atBournemouth,atEastbourne,atsomewhereelseIforgetandatHammersmith.ThenwecomebacktoFrance,butAnna—shedoesnotcome.Shesendsamessageonlythatsheleavesthecompany,thatshegoestolivewithherhusband’sfamily—somenonsenseofthatkind.Ididnotthinkitistrue,myself.Ithinkitmorelikelythatshehasmetaman,youunderstand.”
InspectorCraddocknodded.HeperceivedthatthatwaswhatMadameJoiletwouldinvariablythink.
“Anditisnolosstome.Idonotcare.Icangetgirlsjustasgoodandbettertocomeanddance,soIshrugtheshouldersanddonotthinkofitanymore.WhyshouldI?Theyareallthesame,thesegirls,madaboutmen.”
“Whatdatewasthis?”
“WhenwereturntoFrance?Itwas—yes—theSundaybeforeChristmas.AndAnnasheleavestwo—orisitthree—daysbeforethat?Icannotrememberexactly…ButtheendoftheweekatHammersmithwehavetodancewithouther—anditmeansrearrangingthings…Itwasverynaughtyofher—butthesegirls—themomenttheymeetamantheyareallthesame.OnlyIsaytoeverybody.‘Zut,Idonottakeherback,thatone!’”
“Veryannoyingforyou.”
“Ah!Me—Idonotcare.NodoubtshepassestheChristmasholidaywithsomemanshehaspickedup.Itisnotmyaffair.Icanfindothergirls—girlswhowillleapatthechanceofdancingintheBalletMaritskiandwhocandanceaswell—orbetterthanAnna.”
MadameJoiletpausedandthenaskedwithasuddengleamofinterest:
“Whydoyouwanttofindher?Hasshecomeintomoney?”
“Onthecontrary,”saidInspectorCraddockpolitely.“Wethinkshemayhavebeenmurdered.”
MadameJoiletrelapsedintoindifference.
“Casepeut!Ithappens.Ah,well!ShewasagoodCatholic.ShewenttoMassonSundays,andnodoubttoconfession.”
“Didsheeverspeaktoyou,Madame,ofason?”
“Ason?Doyoumeanshehadachild?That,now,Ishouldconsidermostunlikely.Thesegirls,all—allofthemknowausefuladdresstowhichtogo.M.DessinknowsthataswellasIdo.”
“Shemayhavehadachildbeforesheadoptedastagelife,”saidCraddock.“Duringthewar,forinstance.”
“Ah!danslaguerre.Thatisalwayspossible.Butifso,Iknownothingaboutit.”
“Whoamongsttheothergirlswereherclosestfriends?”
“Icangiveyoutwoorthreenames—butshewasnotveryintimatewithanyone.”
TheycouldgetnothingelseusefulfromMadameJoilet.
Shownthecompact,shesaidAnnahadoneofthatkind,butsohadmostoftheothergirls.AnnahadperhapsboughtafurcoatinLondon—shedidnotknow.“Me,Ioccupymyselfwiththerehearsals,withthestagelighting,withallthedifficultiesofmybusiness.Ihavenottimetonoticewhatmyartistswear.”
AfterMadameJoilet,theyinterviewedthegirlswhosenamesshehadgiventhem.OneortwoofthemhadknownAnnafairlywell,buttheyallsaidthatshehadnotbeenonetotalkmuchaboutherself,andthatwhenshedid,itwas,soonegirlsaid,mostlylies.
“Shelikedtopretendthings—storiesabouthavingbeenthemistressofaGrandDuke—orofagreatEnglishfinancier—orhowsheworkedfortheResistanceinthewar.EvenastoryaboutbeingafilmstarinHollywood.”
Anothergirlsaid:
“Ithinkthatreallyshehadhadaverytamebourgeoisexistence.Shelikedtobeinballetbecauseshethoughtitwasromantic,butshewasnotagooddancer.Youunderstandthatifsheweretosay,‘MyfatherwasadraperinAmiens,’thatwouldnotberomantic!Soinsteadshemadeupthings.”
“EveninLondon,”saidthefirstgirl,“shethrewouthintsaboutaveryrichmanwhowasgoingtotakeheronacruiseroundtheworld,becausesheremindedhimofhisdeaddaughterwhohaddiedinacaraccident.Quelleblague!”
“ShetoldmeshewasgoingtostaywitharichlordinScotland,”saidthesecondgirl.“Shesaidshewouldshootthedeerthere.”
Noneofthiswashelpful.AllthatseemedtoemergefromitwasthatAnnaStravinskawasaproficientliar.ShewascertainlynotshootingdeerwithaapeerinScotland,anditseemedequallyunlikelythatshewasonthesundeckofalinercruisingroundtheworld.ButneitherwasthereanyrealreasontobelievethatherbodyhadbeenfoundinasarcophagusatRutherfordHall.TheidentificationbythegirlsandMadameJoiletwasveryuncertainandhesitating.ItlookedsomethinglikeAnna,theyallagreed.Butreally!Allswollenup—itmightbeanybody!
Theonlyfactthatwasestablishedwasthatonthe19thofDecemberAnnaStravinskahaddecidednottoreturntoFrance,andthatonthe20thDecemberawomanresemblingherinappearancehadtravelledtoBrackhamptonbythe4:33trainandhadbeenstrangled.
IfthewomaninthesarcophaguswasnotAnnaStravinska,wherewasAnnanow?
Tothat,MadameJoilet’sanswerwassimpleandinevitable.
“Withaman!”
Anditwasprobablythecorrectanswer,Craddockreflectedruefully.
Oneotherpossibilityhadtobeconsidered—raisedbythecasualremarkthatAnnahadoncereferredtohavinganEnglishhusband.
HadthathusbandbeenEdmundCrackenthorpe?
Itseemedunlikely,consideringthewordpictureofAnnathathadbeengivenhimbythosewhoknewher.WhatwasmuchmoreprobablewasthatAnnahadatonetimeknownthegirlMartinesufficientlyintimatelytobeacquaintedwiththenecessarydetails.ItmighthavebeenAnnawhowrotethatlettertoEmmaCrackenthorpeand,ifso,Annawouldhavebeenquitelikelytohavetakenfrightatanyquestionofaninvestigation.PerhapsshehadeventhoughtitprudenttoseverherconnectionwiththeBalletMaritski.Again,wherewasshenow?
Andagain,inevitably,MadameJoilet’sanswerseemedthemostlikely.
Withaman….
II
BeforeleavingParis,CraddockdiscussedwithDessinthequestionofthewomannamedMartine.DessinwasinclinedtoagreewithhisEnglishcolleaguethatthematterhadprobablynoconnectionwiththewomanfoundinthesarcophagus.Allthesame,heagreed,thematteroughttobeinvestigated.
HeassuredCraddockthattheS?retéwoulddotheirbesttodiscoverifthereactuallywasanyrecordofamarriagebetweenLieutenantEdmundCrackenthorpeofthe4thSouthshireRegimentandaFrenchgirlwhoseChristiannamewasMartine.Time—justpriortothefallofDunkirk.
HewarnedCraddock,however,thatadefiniteanswerwasdoubtful.TheareainquestionhadnotonlybeenoccupiedbytheGermansatalmostexactlythattime,butsubsequentlythatpartofFrancehadsufferedseverewardamageatthetimeoftheinvasion.Manybuildingsandrecordshadbeendestroyed.
“Butrestassured,mydearcolleague,weshalldoourbest.”
Withthis,heandCraddocktookleaveofeachother.
III
OnCraddock’sreturnSergeantWetherallwaswaitingtoreportwithgloomyrelish:
“Accommodationaddress,sir—that’swhat126ElversCrescentis.Quiterespectableandallthat.”
“Anyidentifications?”
“No,nobodycouldrecognizethephotographasthatofawomanwhohadcalledforletters,butIdon’tthinktheywouldanyway—it’samonthago,verynear,andagoodmanypeopleusetheplace.It’sactuallyaboarding-houseforstudents.”
“Shemighthavestayedthereunderanothername.”
“Ifso,theydidn’trecognizeherastheoriginalofthephotograph.”
Headded:
“Wecircularizedthehotels—nobodyregisteringasMartineCrackenthorpeanywhere.OnreceiptofyourcallfromParis,wecheckeduponAnnaStravinska.ShewasregisteredwithothermembersofthecompanyinacheaphoteloffBrookGreen.Mostlytheatricalsthere.SheclearedoutonthenightofThursday19thaftertheshow.Nofurtherrecord.”
Craddocknodded.Hesuggestedalineoffurtherinquiries—thoughhehadlittlehopeofsuccessfromthem.
Aftersomethought,herangupWimborne,HendersonandCarstairsandaskedforanappointmentwithMr.Wimborne.
Induecourse,hewasusheredintoaparticularlyairlessroomwhereMr.Wimbornewassittingbehindalargeold-fashioneddeskcoveredwithbundlesofdusty-lookingpapers.VariousdeedboxeslabelledSirJohnffouldes,dec.,LadyDerrin,GeorgeRowbottom,Esq.,ornamentedthewalls;whetherasrelicsofabygoneeraoraspartofpresent-daylegalaffairs,theinspectordidnotknow.
Mr.Wimborneeyedhisvisitorwiththepolitewarinesscharacteristicofafamilylawyertowardsthepolice.
“WhatcanIdoforyou,Inspector?”
“Thisletter…”CraddockpushedMartine’sletteracrossthetable.Mr.Wimbornetoucheditwithadistastefulfingerbutdidnotpickitup.Hiscolourroseveryslightlyandhislipstightened.
“Quiteso,”hesaid;“quiteso!IreceivedaletterfromMissEmmaCrackenthorpeyesterdaymorning,informingmeofhervisittoScotlandYardandof—ah—allthecircumstances.ImaysaythatIamatalosstounderstand—quiteataloss—whyIwasnotconsultedaboutthisletteratthetimeofitsarrival!Mostextraordinary!Ishouldhavebeeninformedimmediately….”
InspectorCraddockrepeatedsoothinglysuchplatitudesasseemedbestcalculatedtoreduceMr.Wimbornetoanamenableframeofmind.
“I’dnoideathattherewaseveranyquestionofEdmund’shavingmarried,”saidMr.Wimborneinaninjuredvoice.
InspectorCraddocksaidthathesupposed—inwartime—andleftittotrailawayvaguely.
“Wartime!”snappedMr.Wimbornewithwaspishacerbity.“Yes,indeed,wewereinLincoln’sInnFieldsattheoutbreakofwarandtherewasadirecthitonthehousenextdoor,andagreatnumberofourrecordsweredestroyed.Notthereallyimportantdocuments,ofcourse;theyhadbeenremovedtothecountryforsafety.Butitcausedagreatdealofconfusion.Ofcourse,theCrackenthorpebusinesswasinmyfather’shandsatthattime.Hediedsixyearsago.Idaresayhemayhavebeentoldaboutthisso-calledmarriageofEdmund’s—butonthefaceofit,itlooksasthoughthatmarriage,evenifcontemplated,nevertookplace,andso,nodoubt,myfatherdidnotconsiderthestoryofanyimportance.Imustsay,allthissoundsveryfishytome.Thiscomingforward,afteralltheseyears,andclaimingamarriageand
“Justso,”saidCraddock.“Whatwouldherposition,orherson’spositionbe?”
“Theideawas,Isuppose,thatshewouldgettheCrackenthorpestoprovideforherandfortheboy.”
“Yes,butImeant,whatwouldsheandthesonbeentitledto,legallyspeaking—ifshecouldproveherclaim?”
“Oh,Isee.”Mr.Wimbornepickeduphisspectacleswhichhehadlaidasideinhisirritation,andputthemon,staringthroughthematInspectorCraddockwithshrewdattention.“Well,atthemoment,nothing.ButifshecouldprovethattheboywasthesonofEdmundCrackenthorpe,borninlawfulwedlock,thentheboywouldbeentitledtohisshareofJosiahCrackenthorpe’strustonthedeathofLutherCrackenthorpe.Morethanthat,he’dinheritRutherfordHall,sincehe’sthesonoftheeldestson.”
“Wouldanyonewanttoinheritthehouse?”
“Tolivein?Ishouldsay,certainlynot.Butthatestate,mydearInspector,isworthaconsiderableamountofmoney.Veryconsiderable.Landforindustrialandbuildingpurposes.LandwhichisnowintheheartofBrackhampton.Oh,yes,averyconsiderableinheritance.”
“IfLutherCrackenthorpedies,IbelieveyoutoldmethatCedricgetsit?”
“Heinheritstherealestate—yes,astheeldestlivingson.”
“CedricCrackenthorpe,Ihavebeengiventounderstand,isnotinterestedinmoney?”
Mr.WimbornegaveCraddockacoldstare
“Indeed?Iaminclined,myself,totakestatementsofsuchanaturewithwhatImighttermagrainofsalt.Therearedoubtlesscertainunworldlypeoplewhoareindifferenttomoney.Imyselfhavenevermetone.”
Mr.Wimborneobviouslyderivedacertainsatisfactionfromthisremark.
InspectorCraddockhastenedtotakeadvantageofthisrayofsunshine.
“HaroldandAlfredCrackenthorpe,”heventured,“seemtohavebeenagooddealupsetbythearrivalofthisletter?”
“Welltheymightbe,”saidMr.Wimborne.“Welltheymightbe.”
“Itwouldreducetheireventualinheritance?”
“Certainly.EdmundCrackenthorpe’sson—alwayspresumingthereisason—wouldbeentitledtoafifthshareofthetrustmoney.”
“Thatdoesn’treallyseemaveryseriousloss?”
Mr.Wimbornegavehimashrewdglance.
“Itisatotallyinadequatemotiveformurder,ifthatiswhatyoumean.”
“ButIsupposethey’rebothprettyhardup,”Craddockmurmured.
HesustainedMr.Wimborne’ssharpglancewithperfectimpassivity.
“Oh!Sothepolicehavebeenmakinginquiries?Yes,Alfredisalmostincessantlyinlowwater.Occasionallyheisveryflushofmoneyforashorttime—butitsoongoes.Harold,asyouseemtohavediscovered,isatpresentsomewhatprecariouslysituated.”
“Inspiteofhisappearanceoffinancialprosperity?”
“Fa?ade.Allfa?ade!Halfthesecityconcernsdon’tevenknowifthey’resolventornot.Balancesheetscanbemadetolookallrighttotheinexperteye.Butwhentheassetsthatarelistedaren’treallyassets—whenthoseassetsaretremblingonthebrinkofacrash—whereareyou?”
“Where,presumably,HaroldCrackenthorpeis,inbadneedofmoney.”
“Well,hewouldn’thavegotitbystranglinghislatebrother’swidow,”saidMr.Wimborne.“Andnobody’smurderedLutherCrackenthorpewhichistheonlymurderthatwoulddothefamilyanygood.So,really,Inspector,Idon’tquiteseewhereyourideasareleadingyou?”
Theworstofitwas,InspectorCraddockthought,thathewasn’tverysurehimself.
Fifteen
I
InspectorCraddockhadmadeanappointmentwithHaroldCrackenthorpeathisoffice,andheandSergeantWetherallarrivedtherepunctually.TheofficewasonthefourthfloorofabigblockofCityoffices.Insideeverythingshowedprosperityandtheacmeofmodernbusinesstaste.
Aneatyoungwomantookhisname,spokeinadiscreetmurmurthroughatelephone,andthen,rising,showedthemintoHaroldCrackenthorpe’sownprivateoffice.
Haroldwassittingbehindalargeleather-toppeddeskandwaslookingasimpeccableandself-confidentasever.If,astheinspector’sprivateknowledgeledhimtosurmise,hewascloseuponQueerStreet,notraceofitshowed.
Helookedupwithafrankwelcominginterest.
“Goodmorning,InspectorCraddock.Ihopethismeansthatyouhavesomedefinitenewsforusatlast?”
“Hardlythat,Iamafraid,Mr.Crackenthorpe.It’sjustafewmorequestionsI’dliketoask.”
“Morequestions?Surelybynowwehaveansweredeverythingimaginable.”
“Idaresayitfeelslikethattoyou,Mr.Crackenthorpe,butit’sjustaquestionofourregularroutine.”
“Well,whatisitthistime?”Hespokeimpatiently.
“Ishouldbegladifyoucouldtellmeexactlywhatyouweredoingontheafternoonandeveningof20thDecemberlast—saybetweenthehoursof3p.m.andmidnight.”
HaroldCrackenthorpewentanangryshadeofplumred.
“Thatseemstobeamostextraordinaryquestiontoaskme.Whatdoesitmean,Ishouldliketoknow?”
Craddocksmiledgently.
“ItjustmeansthatIshouldliketoknowwhereyouwerebetweenthehoursof3p.m.andmidnightonFriday,20thDecember.”
“Why?”
“Itwouldhelptonarrowthingsdown.”
“Narrowthemdown?Youhaveextrainformation,then?”
“Wehopethatwe’regettingalittlecloser,sir.”
“I’mnotatallsurethatIoughttoansweryourquestion.Not,thatis,withouthavingmysolicitorpresent.”
“That,ofcourse,isentirelyuptoyou,”saidCraddock.“Youarenotboundtoansweranyquestions,andyouhaveaperfectrighttohaveasolicitorpresentbeforeyoudoso.”
“Youarenot—letmebequiteclear—er—warningmeinanyway?”
“Oh,no,sir.”InspectorCraddocklookedproperlyshocked.“Nothingofthatkind.ThequestionsIamaskingyou,Iamaskingseveralotherpeopleaswell.There’snothingdirectlypersonalaboutthis.It’sjustamatterofnecessaryeliminations.”
“Well,ofcourse—I’manxioustoassistinanywayIcan.Letmeseenow.Suchathingisn’teasytoansweroffhand,butwe’reverysystematichere.MissEllis,Iexpect,canhelp.”
Hespokebrieflyintooneofthetelephonesonhisdeskandalmostimmediatelyastreamlinedyoungwomaninawell-cutblacksuitenteredwithanotebook.
“Mysecretary,MissEllis,InspectorCraddock.Now,MissEllis,theinspectorwouldliketoknowwhatIwasdoingontheafternoonandeveningof—whatwasthedate?”
“Friday,20thDecember.”
“Friday,20thDecember.Iexpectyouwillhavesomerecord.”
“Oh,yes.”MissEllislefttheroom,returnedwithanofficememorandumcalendarandturnedthepages.
“Youwereintheofficeonthemorningof20thDecember.YouhadaconferencewithMr.GoldieabouttheCromartiemerger,youlunchedwithLordForthvilleattheBerkeley—”
“Ah,itwasthatday,yes.”
“Youreturnedtotheofficeabout3o’clockanddictatedhalfadozenletters.YouthenlefttoattendSotheby’ssaleroomswhereyouwereinterestedinsomeraremanuscriptswhichwerecomingupforsalethatday.Youdidnotreturntotheofficeagain,butIhaveanotetoremindyouthatyouwereattendingtheCateringClubdinnerthatevening.”Shelookedupinterrogatively.
“Thankyou,MissEllis.”
MissEllisglidedfromtheroom.
“Thatisallquiteclearinmymind,”saidHarold.“IwenttoSotheby’sthatafternoonbuttheitemsIwantedtherewentfortoohighaprice.IhadteainasmallplaceinJermynStreet—Russell’s,Ithink,itwascalled.IdroppedintoaNewsTheatreforabouthalfanhourorso,thenwenthome—Iliveat43CardiganGardens.TheCateringClubdinnertookplaceatseven-thirtyatCaterer’sHall,andafteritIreturnedhometobed.Ithinkthatshouldansweryourquestions.”
“That’sallveryclear,Mr.Crackenthorpe.Whattimewasitwhenyoureturnedhometodress?”
“Idon’tthinkIcanrememberexactly.Soonaftersix,Ishouldthink.”
“Andafteryourdinner?”
“Itwas,Ithink,halfpastelevenwhenIgothome.”
“Didyourmanservantletyouin?OrperhapsLadyAliceCrackenthorpe—”
“Mywife,LadyAlice,isabroadintheSouthofFranceandhasbeensinceearlyDecember.Iletmyselfinwithmylatchkey.”
“Sothereisnoonewhocanvouchforyourreturninghomewhenyousayyoudid?”
Haroldgavehimacoldstare.
“Idaresaytheservantsheardmecomein.Ihaveamanandwife.But,really,Inspector—”
“Please,Mr.Crackenthorpe,Iknowthesekindofquestionsareannoying,butIhavenearlyfinished.Doyouownacar?”
“Yes,aHumberHawk.”
“Youdriveityourself?”
“Yes.Idon’tuseitmuchexceptatweekends.DrivinginLondonisquiteimpossiblenowadays.”
“IpresumeyouuseitwhenyougodowntoseeyourfatherandsisterinBrackhampton?”
“NotunlessIamgoingtostaythereforsomelengthoftime.IfIjustgodownforthenight—as,forinstance,totheinquesttheotherday—Ialwaysgobytrain.Thereisanexcellenttrainserviceanditisfarquickerthangoingbycar.Thecarmysisterhiresmeetsmeatthestation.”
“Wheredoyoukeepyourcar?”
“IrentagarageinthemewsbehindCardiganGardens.Anymorequestions?”
“Ithinkthat’sallfornow,”saidInspectorCraddock,smilingandrising.“I’mverysorryforhavingtobotheryou.”
Whentheywereoutside,SergeantWetherall,amanwholivedinastateofdarksuspicionsofallandsundry,remarkedmeaningly:
“Hedidn’tlikethosequestions—didn’tlikethematall.Putout,hewas.”
“Ifyouhavenotcommittedamurder,itnaturallyannoysyouifitseemssomeonethinksthatyouhave,”saidInspectorCraddockmildly.“ItwouldparticularlyannoyanultrarespectablemanlikeHaroldCrackenthorpe.There’snothinginthat.Whatwe’vegottofindoutnowisifanyoneactuallysawHaroldCrackenthorpeatthesalethatafternoon,andthesameappliestotheteashopplace.Hecouldeasilyhavetravelledbythe4:33,pushedthewomanoutofthetrainandcaughtatrainbacktoLondonintimetoappearatthedinner.Inthesamewayhecouldhavedrivenhiscardownthatnight,movedthebodytothesarcophagusanddrivenbackagain.Makeinquiriesinthemews.”
“Yes,sir.Doyouthinkthat’swhathediddo?”
“HowdoIknow?”askedInspectorCraddock.“He’satalldarkman.Hecouldhavebeenonthattrainandhe’sgotaconnectionwithRutherfordHall.He’sapossiblesuspectinthiscase.NowforBrotherAlfred.”
II
AlfredCrackenthorpehadaflatinWestHampstead,inabigmodernbuildingofslightlyjerry-builttypewithalargecourtyardinwhichtheownersofflatsparkedtheircarswithacertainlackofconsiderationforothers.
Theflatwasthemodernbuilt-intype,evidentlyrentedfurnished.Ithadalongplywoodtablethatleddownfromthewall,adivanbed,andvariouschairsofimprobableproportions.
AlfredCrackenthorpemetthemwithengagingfriendlinessbutwas,theinspectorthought,nervous.
“I’mintrigued,”hesaid.“CanIofferyouadrink,InspectorCraddock?”Heheldupvariousbottlesinvitingly.
“No,thankyou,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
“Asbadasthat?”Helaughedathisownlittlejoke,thenaskedwhatitwasallabout.
InspectorCraddocksaidhislittlepiece.
“WhatwasIdoingontheafternoonandeveningof20thDecember.HowshouldIknow?Why,that’s—what—overthreeweeksago.”
“YourbrotherHaroldhasbeenabletotellusveryexactly.”
“BrotherHarold,perhaps.NotBrotherAlfred.”Headdedwithatouchofsomething—enviousmalicepossibly:“Haroldisthesuccessfulmemberofthefamily—busy,useful,fullyemployed—atimeforeverything,andeverythingatthattime.Evenifheweretocommita—murder,shallwesay?—itwouldbecarefullytimedandexact.”
“Anyparticularreasonforusingthatexample?”
“Oh,no.Itjustcameintomymind—asasupremeabsurdity.”
“Nowaboutyourself.”
Alfredspreadouthishands.
“It’sasItellyou—I’venomemoryfortimesorplaces.IfyouweretosayChristmasDaynow—thenIshouldbeabletoansweryou—there’sapegtohangiton.IknowwhereIwasChristmasDay.WespendthatwithmyfatheratBrackhampton.Ireallydon’tknowwhy.Hegrumblesattheexpenseofhavingus—andwouldgrumblethatwenevercamenearhimifwedidn’tcome.Wereallydoittopleasemysister.”
“Andyoudiditthisyear?”
“Yes.”
“Butunfortunatelyyourfatherwastakenill,washenot?”
Craddockwaspursuingasidelinedeliberately,ledbythekindofinstinctthatoftencametohiminhisprofession.
“Hewastakenill.Livinglikeasparrowinthatgloriouscauseofeconomy,suddenfulleatinganddrinkinghaditseffect.”
“Thatwasallitwas,wasit?”
“Ofcourse.Whatelse?”
“Igatheredthathisdoctorwas—worried.”
“Ah,thatoldfoolQuimper,”Alfredspokequicklyandscornfully.“It’snouselisteningtohim,Inspector.He’sanalarmistoftheworstkind.”
“Indeed?Heseemedarathersensiblekindofmantome.”
“He’sacompletefool.Father’snotreallyaninvalid,there’snothingwrongwithhisheart,buthetakesinQuimpercompletely.Naturally,whenfatherreallyfeltill,hemadeaterrificfuss,andhadQuimpergoingandcoming,askingquestions,goingintoeverythinghe’deatenanddrunk.Thewholethingwasridiculous!”Alfredspokewithunusualheat.
Craddockwassilentforamomentortwo,rathereffectively.Alfredfidgeted,shothimaquickglance,andthensaidpetulantly:
“Well,whatisallthis?WhydoyouwanttoknowwhereIwasonaparticularFriday,threeorfourweeksago?”
“SoyoudorememberthatitwasaFriday?”
“Ithoughtyousaidso.”
“PerhapsIdid,”saidInspectorCraddock.“Atanyrate,Friday20thisthedayIamaskingabout.”
“Why?”
“Aroutineinquiry.”
“That’snonsense.Haveyoufoundoutsomethingmoreaboutthiswoman?Aboutwhereshecamefrom?”
“Ourinformationisnotyetcomplete.”
Alfredgavehimasharpglance.
“Ihopeyou’renotbeingledasidebythiswildtheoryofEmma’sthatshemighthavebeenmybrotherEdmund’swidow.That’scompletenonsense.”
“This—Martine,didnotatanyrateapplytoyou?”
“Tome?Goodlord,no!Thatwouldhavebeenalaugh.”
“Shewouldbemorelikely,youthink,togotoyourbrotherHarold?”
“Muchmorelikely.Hisname’sfrequentlyinthepapers.He’swelloff.Tryingatouchtherewouldn’tsurpriseme.Notthatshe’dhavegotanything.Harold’sastight-fistedastheoldmanhimself.Emma,ofcourse,isthesoft-heartedoneofthefamily,andshewasEdmund’sfavouritesister.Allthesame,Emmaisn’tcredulous.Shewasquitealivetothepossibilityofthiswomanbeingphoney.Shehaditalllaidonfortheentirefamilytobethere—andahard-headedsolicitoraswell.”
“Verywise,”saidCraddock.“Wasthereadefinitedatefixedforthismeeting?”
“ItwastobesoonafterChristmas—theweekendofthe27th…”hestopped.
“Ah,”saidCraddockpleasantly.“SoIseesomedateshaveameaningtoyou.”
“I’vetoldyou—nodefinitedatewasfixed.”
“Butyoutalkedaboutit—when?”
“Ireallycan’tremember.”
“Andyoucan’ttellmewhatyouyourselfweredoingonFriday,20thDecember?”
“Sorry—mymind’sanabsoluteblank.”
“Youdon’tkeepanengagementbook?”
“Can’tstandthethings.”
“TheFridaybeforeChristmas—itshouldn’tbetoodifficult.”
“Iplayedgolfonedaywithalikelyprospect.”Alfredshookhishead.“No,thatwastheweekbefore.Iprobablyjustmoochedaround.Ispendalotofmytimedoingthat.Ifindone’sbusinessgetsdoneinbarsmorethananywhereelse.”
“Perhapsthepeoplehere,orsomeofyourfriends,maybeabletohelp?”
“Maybe.I’llaskthem.DowhatIcan.”
Alfredseemedmoresureofhimselfnow.
“Ican’ttellyouwhatIwasdoingthatday,”hesaid;“butIcantellyouwhatIwasn’tdoing.Iwasn’tmurderinganyoneintheLongBarn.”
“Whyshouldyousaythat,Mr.Crackenthorpe?”
“Comenow,mydearInspector.You’reinvestigatingthismurder,aren’tyou?Andwhenyoubegintoask‘Wherewereyouonsuchandsuchadayatsuchandsuchatime?’you’renarrowingdownthings.I’dverymuchliketoknowwhyyou’vehitonFridaythe20thbetween—what?Lunchtimeandmidnight?Itcouldn’tbemedicalevidence,notafterallthistime.Didsomebodyseethedeceasedsneakingintothebarnthatafternoon?Shewentinandshenevercameout,etc.?Isthatit?”
Thesharpblackeyeswerewatchinghimnarrowly,butInspectorCraddockwasfartoooldahandtoreacttothatsortofthing.
“I’mafraidwe’llhavetoletyouguessaboutthat,”hesaidpleasantly.
“Thepolicearesosecretive.”
“Notonlythepolice.Ithink,Mr.Crackenthorpe,youcouldrememberwhatyouweredoingonthatFridayifyoutried.Ofcourseyoumayhavereasonsfornotwishingtoremember—”
“Youwon’tcatchmethatway,Inspector.It’sverysuspicious,ofcourse,verysuspicious,indeed,thatIcan’tremember—butthereitis!Waitaminutenow—IwenttoLeedsthatweek—stayedatahotelclosetotheTownHall—can’trememberitsname—butyou’dfinditeasyenough.ThatmighthavebeenontheFriday.”
“We’llcheckup,”saidtheinspectorunemotionally.
Herose.“I’msorryyoucouldn’thavebeenmorecooperative,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
“Mostunfortunateforme!There’sCedricwithasafealibiinIbiza,andHarold,nodoubt,checkedwithbusinessappointmentsandpublicdinnerseveryhour—andhereamIwithnoalibiatall.Verysad.Andallsosilly.I’vealreadytoldyouIdon’tmurderpeople.AndwhyshouldImurderanunknownwoman,anyway?Whatfor?EvenifthecorpseisthecorpseofEdmund’swidow,whyshouldanyofuswishtodoawaywithher?Nowifshe’dbeenmarriedtoHaroldinthewar,andhadsuddenlyreappeared—thenitmighthavebeenawkwardfortherespectableHarold—bigamyandallthat.ButEdmund!Whywe’dallhaveenjoyedmakingFatherstumpupabittogiveheranallowanceandsendtheboytoadecentschool.Fatherwouldhavebeenwild,buthecouldn’tindecencyrefusetodosomething.Won’tyouhaveadrinkbeforeyougo,Inspector?Sure?ToobadIhaven’tbeenabletohelpyou.”
III
“Sir,listen,doyouknowwhat?”
InspectorCraddocklookedathisexcitedsergeant.
“Yes,Wetherall,whatisit?”
“I’veplacedhim,sir.Thatchap.AllthetimeIwastryingtofixitandsuddenlyitcame.HewasmixedupinthattinnedfoodbusinesswithDickyRogers.Nevergotanythingonhim—toocageyforthat.Andhe’sbeeninwithoneormoreoftheSoholot.WatchesandthatItaliansovereignbusiness.”
Ofcourse!CraddockrealizednowwhyAlfred’sfacehadseemedvaguelyfamiliarfromthefirst.Ithadallbeensmall-timestuff—neveranythingthatcouldbeproved.Alfredhadalwaysbeenontheoutskirtsoftheracketwithaplausibleinnocentreasonforhavingbeenmixedupinitatall.Butthepolicehadbeenquitesurethatasmallsteadyprofitcamehisway.
“Thatthrowsratheralightonthings,”Craddocksaid.
“Thinkhedidit?”
“Ishouldn’thavesaidhewasthetypetodomurder.Butitexplainsotherthings—thereasonwhyhecouldn’tcomeupwithanalibi.”
“Yes,thatlookedbadforhim.”
“Notreally,”saidCraddock.“It’squiteacleverline—justtosayfirmlyyoucan’tremember.Lotsofpeoplecan’trememberwhattheydidandwheretheywereevenaweekago.It’sespeciallyusefulifyoudon’tparticularlywanttocallattentiontothewayyouspendyourtime—interestingrendezvousatlorrypull-upswiththeDickyRogerscrowd,forinstance.”
“Soyouthinkhe’sallright?”
“I’mnotpreparedtothinkanyone’sallrightjustyet,”saidInspectorCraddock.“You’vegottoworkonit,Wetherall.”
Backathisdesk,Craddocksatfrowning,andmakinglittlenotesonthepadinfrontofhim.
Murderer(hewrote)…Atalldarkman!!!Victim?…CouldhavebeenMartine,EdmundCrackenthorpe’sgirlfriendorwidow.OrCouldhavebeenAnnaStravinska.Wentoutofcirculationatappropriatetime,rightageandappearance,clothing,etc.NoconnectionswithRutherfordHallasfarasisknown.CouldbeHarold’sfirstwife!Bigamy!””firstmistress.Blackmail!
IfconnectionwithAlfred,mightbeblackmail.Hadknowledgethatcouldhavesenthimtogaol?IfCedric—mighthavehadconnectionswithhimabroad—Paris?Balearics?OrVictimcouldbeAnnaS.posingasMartineorVictimisunknownwomankilledbyunknownmurderer!
“Andmostprobablythelatter,”saidCraddockaloud.
Hereflectedgloomilyonthesituation.Youcouldn’tgetfarwithacaseuntilyouhadthemotive.Allthemotivessuggestedsofarseemedeitherinadequateorfarfetched.
NowifonlyithadbeenthemurderofoldMr.Crackenthorpe…Plentyofmotivethere….
Somethingstirredinhismemory….
Hemadefurthernotesonhispad.
AskDr.Q.aboutChristmasillness.Cedric—alibi.ConsultMissM.forthelatestgossip
Sixteen
WhenCraddockgotto4MadisonRoadhefoundLucyEyelesbarrowwithMissMarple
HehesitatedforamomentinhisplanofcampaignandthendecidedthatLucyEyelesbarrowmightproveavaluableally
Aftergreetings,hesolemnlydrewouthisnotecase,extractingthreepoundnotes,addedthreeshillingsandpushedthemacrossthetabletoMissMarple.
“What’sthis,Inspector?”
“Consultationfee.You’reaconsultant—onmurder!Pulse,temperature,localreactions,possibledeepseatedcauseofsaidmurder.I’mjustthepoorharassedlocalG.P.”
MissMarplelookedathimandtwinkled.Hegrinnedather.LucyEyelesbarrowgaveafaintgaspandthenlaughed.
“Why,InspectorCraddock—you’rehumanafterall.”
“Oh,well,I’mnotstrictlyondutythisafternoon.”
“Itoldyouwehadmetbefore,”saidMissMarpletoLucy.“SirHenryClitheringishisgodfather—averyoldfriendofmine.”
“Wouldyouliketohear,MissEyelesbarrow,whatmygodfathersaidabouther—thefirsttimewemet?HedescribedherasjustthefinestdetectiveGodevermade—naturalgeniuscultivatedinasuitablesoil.Hetoldmenevertodespisethe”—DermotCraddockpausedforamomenttoseekforasynonymfor“oldpussies”—“—erelderlyladies.Hesaidtheycouldusuallytellyouwhatmighthavehappened,whatoughttohavehappened,andevenwhatactuallydidhappen!And,”hesaid,“theycantellyouwhyithappened.Headdedthatthisparticular—er—elderlylady—wasatthetopoftheclass.”
“Well!”saidLucy.“Thatseemstobeatestimonialallright.”
MissMarplewaspinkandconfusedandlookedunusuallydithery.
“DearSirHenry,”shemurmured.“Alwayssokind.ReallyI’mnotatallclever—justperhaps,aslightknowledgeofhumannature—living,youknow,inavillage—”
Sheadded,withmorecomposure:
“Ofcourse,Iamsomewhathandicapped,bynotactuallybeingonthespot.Itissohelpful,Ialwaysfeel,whenpeopleremindyouofotherpeople—becausetypesarealikeeverywhereandthatissuchavaluableguide.”
Lucylookedalittlepuzzled,butCraddocknoddedcomprehendingly.
“Butyou’vebeentoteathere,haven’tyou?”hesaid.
“Yes,indeed.Mostpleasant.IwasalittledisappointedthatIdidn’tseeoldMr.Crackenthorpe—butonecan’thaveeverything.”
“Doyoufeelthatifyousawthepersonwhohaddonethemurder,you’dknow?”askedLucy.
“Oh,Iwouldn’tsaythat,dear.Oneisalwaysinclinedtoguess—andguessingwouldbeverywrongwhenitisaquestionofanythingasseriousasmurder.Allonecandoistoobservethepeopleconcerned—orwhomighthavebeenconcerned—andseeofwhomtheyremindyou.”
“LikeCedricandthebankmanager?”
MissMarplecorrectedher.
“Thebankmanager’sson,dear.Mr.EadehimselfwasfarmorelikeMr.Harold—averyconservativeman—butperhapsalittletoofondofmoney—thesortofman,too,whocouldgoalongwaytoavoidscandal.”
Craddocksmiled,andsaid:
“AndAlfred?”
“Jenkinsatthegarage,”MissMarplerepliedpromptly.“Hedidn’texactlyappropriatetools?—butheusedtoexchangeabrokenorinferiorjackforagoodone.AndIbelievehewasn’tveryhonestoverbatteries—thoughIdon’tunderstandthesethingsverywell.IknowRaymondleftoffdealingwithhimandwenttothegarageontheMilchesterroad.AsforEmma,”continuedMissMarplethoughtfully,“sheremindsmeverymuchofGeraldineWebb—alwaysveryquiet,almostdowdy—andbulliedagooddealbyherelderlymother.QuiteasurprisetoeverybodywhenthemotherdiedunexpectedlyandGeraldinecameintoanicesumofmoneyandwentandhadherhaircutandpermed,andwentoffonacruise,andcamebackmarriedtoaverynicebarrister.Theyhadtwochildren.”
Theparallelwasclearenough.Lucysaid,ratheruneasily:“DoyouthinkyououghttohavesaidwhatyoudidaboutEmmamarrying?Itseemedtoupsetthebrothers.”
MissMarplenodded.
“Yes,”shesaid.“Solikemen—quiteunabletoseewhat’sgoingonundertheireyes.Idon’tbelieveyounoticedyourself.”
“No,”admittedLucy.“Ineverthoughtofanythingofthatkind.Theybothseemedtome—”
“Soold?”saidMissMarplesmilingalittle.“ButDr.Quimperisn’tmuchoverforty,Ishouldsay,thoughhe’sgoinggreyonthetemples,andit’sobviousthathe’slongingforsomekindofhomelife;andEmmaCrackenthorpeisunderforty—nottoooldtomarryandhaveafamily.Thedoctor’swifediedquiteyounghavingababy,soIhaveheard.”
“Ibelieveshedid.Emmasaidsomethingaboutitoneday.”
“Hemustbelonely,”saidMissMarple.“Abusyhard-workingdoctorneedsawife—someonesympathetic—nottooyoung.”
“Listen,darling,”saidLucy.“Areweinvestigatingcrime,orarewematch-making?”
MissMarpletwinkled.
“I’mafraidIamratherromantic.BecauseIamanoldmaid,perhaps.Youknow,dearLucy,that,asfarasIamconcerned,youhavefulfilledyourcontract.Ifyoureallywantaholidayabroadbeforetakingupyournextengagement,youwouldhavetimestillforashorttrip.”
“AndleaveRutherfordHall?Never!I’mthecompletesleuthbynow.Almostasbadastheboys.Theyspendtheirentiretimelookingforclues.Theylookedallthroughthedustbinsyesterday.Mostunsavoury—andtheyhaven’treallythefaintestideawhattheywerelookingfor.Iftheycometoyouintriumph,InspectorCraddock,bearingatornscrapofpaperwithMartine—ifyouvalueyourlifekeepawayfromtheLongBarn!onit,you’llknowthatI’vetakenpityonthemandconcealeditinthepigsty!”
“Whythepigsty,dear?”askedMissMarplewithinterest.“Dotheykeeppigs?”
“Oh,no,notnowadays.It’sjust—Igotheresometimes.”
ForsomereasonLucyblushed.MissMarplelookedatherwithincreasedinterest.
“Who’satthehousenow?”askedCraddock.
“Cedric’sthere,andBryan’sdownfortheweekend.HaroldandAlfredarecomingdowntomorrow.Theyrangupthismorning.Isomehowgottheimpressionthatyouhadbeenputtingthecatamongthepigeons,InspectorCraddock.”
Craddocksmiled.
“Ishookthemupalittle.AskedthemtoaccountfortheirmovementsonFriday,20thDecember.”
“Andcouldthey?”
“Haroldcould.Alfredcouldn’t—orwouldn’t.”
“Ithinkalibismustbeterriblydifficult,”saidLucy.“Timesandplacesanddates.Theymustbehardtocheckupon,too.”
“Ittakestimeandpatience—butwemanage.”Heglancedathiswatch.“I’llbecomingtoRutherfordHallpresentlytohaveawordwithCedric,butIwanttogetholdofDr.Quimperfirst.”
“You’llbejustaboutright.Hehashissurgeryatsixandhe’susuallyfinishedabouthalfpast.Imustgetbackanddealwithdinner.”
“I’dlikeyouropinionononething,MissEyelesbarrow.What’sthefamilyviewaboutthisMartinebusiness—amongstthemselves?”
Lucyrepliedpromptly.
“They’reallfuriouswithEmmaforgoingtoyouaboutit—andwithDr.Quimperwho,itseemed,encouragedhertodoso.HaroldandAlfredthinkitwasatryonandnotgenuine.Emmaisn’tsure.Cedricthinksitwasphoney,too,buthedoesn’ttakeitasseriouslyastheothertwo.Bryan,ontheotherhand,seemsquitesurethatit’sgenuine.”
“Why,Iwonder?”
“Well,Bryan’sratherlikethat.Justacceptsthingsattheirfacevalue.HethinksitwasEdmund’swife—orratherwidow—andthatshehadsuddenlytogobacktoFrance,butthatthey’llhearfromheragainsometime.Thefactthatshehasn’twritten,oranything,uptonow,seemstohimtobequitenaturalbecauseheneverwriteslettershimself.Bryan’srathersweet.Justlikeadogthatwantstobetakenforawalk.”
“Anddoyoutakehimforawalk,dear?”askedMissMarple.“Tothepigsties,perhaps?”
Lucyshotakeenglanceather.
“Somanygentlemeninthehouse,comingandgoing,”musedMissMarple.
WhenMissMarpleutteredtheword“gentlemen”shealwaysgaveititsfullVictorianflavour—anechofromaneraactuallybeforeherowntime.Youwereconsciousatonceofdashingfull-blooded(andprobablywhiskered)males,sometimeswicked,butalwaysgallant.
“You’resuchahandsomegirl,”pursuedMissMarple,appraisingLucy.“Iexpecttheypayyouagooddealofattention,don’tthey?”
Lucyflushedslightly.Scrappyremembrancespassedacrosshermind.Cedric,leaningagainstthepigstywall.Bryansittingdisconsolatelyonthekitchentable.Alfred’sfingerstouchinghersashehelpedhercollectthecoffeecups.
“Gentlemen,”saidMissMarple,inthetoneofonespeakingofsomealienanddangerousspecies,“areallverymuchalikeinsomeways—eveniftheyarequiteold.…”
“Darling,”criedLucy.“Ahundredyearsagoyouwouldcertainlyhavebeenburnedasawitch!”
AndshetoldherstoryofoldMr.Crackenthorpe’sconditionalproposalofmarriage.
“Infact,”saidLucy,“they’veallmadewhatyoumightcalladvancestomeinaway.Harold’swasverycorrect—anadvantageousfinancialpositionintheCity.Idon’tthinkit’smyattractiveappearance—theymustthinkIknowsomething.”
Shelaughed.
ButInspectorCraddockdidnotlaugh.
“Becareful,”hesaid.“Theymightmurderyouinsteadofmakingadvancestoyou.”
“Isupposeitmightbesimpler,”Lucyagreed.
Thenshegaveaslightshiver.
“Oneforgets,”shesaid.“Theboyshavebeenhavingsuchfunthatonealmostthoughtofitallasagame.Butit’snotagame.”
“No,”saidMissMarple.“Murderisn’tagame.”
Shewassilentforamomentortwobeforeshesaid:
“Don’ttheboysgobacktoschoolsoon?”
“Yes,nextweek.TheygotomorrowtoJamesStoddart-West’shomeforthelastfewdaysoftheholidays.”
“I’mgladofthat,”saidMissMarplegravely.“Ishouldn’tlikeanythingtohappenwhilethey’rethere.”
“YoumeantooldMr.Crackenthorpe.Doyouthinkhe’sgoingtobemurderednext?”
“Oh,no,”saidMissMarple.“He’llbeallright.Imeanttotheboys.”
“Well,toAlexander.”
“Butsurely—”
“Huntingabout,youknow—lookingforclues.Boyslovethatsortofthing—butitmightbeverydangerous.”
Craddocklookedatherthoughtfully.
“You’renotpreparedtobelieve,areyou,MissMarple,thatit’sacaseofanunknownwomanmurderedbyanunknownman?YoutieitupdefinitelywithRutherfordHall?”
“Ithinkthere’sadefiniteconnection,yes.”
“Allweknowaboutthemurdereristhathe’satalldarkman.That’swhatyourfriendsaysandallshecansay.TherearethreetalldarkmenatRutherfordHall.Onthedayoftheinquest,youknow,Icameouttoseethethreebrothersstandingwaitingonthepavementforthecartodrawup.Theyhadtheirbackstomeanditwasastonishinghow,intheirheavyovercoats,theylookedallalike.Threetalldarkmen.Andyet,actually,they’reallthreequitedifferenttypes.”Hesighed.“Itmakesitverydifficult.”
“Iwonder,”murmuredMissMarple.“Ihavebeenwondering—whetheritmightperhapsbeallmuchsimplerthanwesuppose.Murderssooftenarequitesimple—withanobviousrathersordidmotive….”
“DoyoubelieveinthemysteriousMartine,MissMarple?”
“I’mquitereadytobelievethatEdmundCrackenthorpeeithermarried,ormeanttomarry,agirlcalledMartine.EmmaCrackenthorpeshowedyouhisletter,Iunderstand,andfromwhatI’veseenofherandfromwhatLucytellsme,IshouldsayEmmaCrackenthorpeisquiteincapableofmakingupathingofthatkind—indeed,whyshouldshe?”
“SograntedMartine,”saidCraddockthoughtfully,“thereisamotiveofakind.Martine’sreappearancewithasonwoulddiminishtheCrackenthorpeinheritance—thoughhardlytoapoint,onewouldthink,toactivatemurder.They’reallveryhardup—”
“EvenHarold?”Lucydemandedincredulously.
“Eventheprosperous-lookingHaroldCrackenthorpeisnotthesoberandconservativefinancierheappearstobe.He’sbeenplungingheavilyandmixinghimselfupinsomeratherundesirableventures.Alargesumofmoney,soon,mightavoidacrash.”
“Butifso—”saidLucy,andstopped.
“Yes,MissEyelesbarrow—”
“Iknow,dear,”saidMissMarple.“Thewrongmurder,that’swhatyoumean.”
“Yes.Martine’sdeathwouldn’tdoHarold—oranyoftheothers—anygood.Notuntil—”
“NotuntilLutherCrackenthorpedied.Exactly.Thatoccurredtome.AndMr.Crackenthorpe,senior,Igatherfromhisdoctor,isamuchbetterlifethananyoutsiderwouldimagine.”
“He’lllastforyears,”saidLucy.Thenshefrowned.
“Yes?”Craddockspokeencouragingly.
“HewasratherillatChristmas-time,”saidLucy.“Hesaidthedoctormadealotoffussaboutit—‘AnyonewouldhavethoughtI’dbeenpoisonedbythefusshemade.’That’swhathesaid.”
ShelookedinquiringlyatCraddock.
“Yes,”saidCraddock.“That’sreallywhatIwanttoaskDr.Quimperabout.”
“Well,Imustgo,”saidLucy.“Heavens,it’slate.”
MissMarpleputdownherknittingandpickedupTheTimeswithahalf-donecrosswordpuzzle.
“IwishIhadadictionaryhere,”shemurmured.“TontineandTokay—Ialwaysmixthosetwowordsup.One,Ibelieve,isaHungarianwine.”
“That’sTokay,”saidLucy,lookingbackfromthedoor.“Butone’safive-letterwordandone’saseven.What’stheclue?”
“Oh,itwasn’tinthecrossword,”saidMissMarplevaguely.“Itwasinmyhead.”
InspectorCraddocklookedatherveryhard.Thenhesaidgoodbyeandwent.
Seventeen
I
CraddockhadtowaitafewminuteswhilstQuimperfinishedhiseveningsurgery,andthenthedoctorcametohim.Helookedtiredanddepressed.
HeofferedCraddockadrinkandwhenthelatteracceptedhemixedoneforhimselfaswell.
“Poordevils,”hesaidashesankdowninaworneasy-chair.“Soscaredandsostupid—nosense.Hadapainfulcasethisevening.Womanwhooughttohavecometomeayearago.Ifshe’dcomethen,shemighthavebeenoperatedonsuccessfully.Nowit’stoolate.Makesmemad.Thetruthispeopleareanextraordinarymixtureofheroismandcowardice.She’ssufferingagony,andborneitwithoutaword,justbecauseshewastooscaredtocomeandfindoutthatwhatshefearedmightbetrue.Attheotherendofthescalearethepeoplewhocomeandwastemytimebecausethey’vegotadangerousswellingcausingthemagonyontheirlittlefingerwhichtheythinkmaybecancerandwhichturnsouttobeacommonorgardenchilblain!Well,don’tmindme.I’veblownoffsteamnow.Whatdidyouwanttoseemeabout?”
“First,I’vegotyoutothank,Ibelieve,foradvisingMissCrackenthorpetocometomewiththeletterthatpurportedtobefromherbrother’swidow.”
“Oh,that?Anythinginit?Ididn’texactlyadvisehertocome.Shewantedto.Shewasworried.Allthedearlittlebrothersweretryingtoholdherback,ofcourse.”
“Whyshouldthey?”
Thedoctorshruggedhisshoulders.
“Afraidtheladymightbeprovedgenuine,Isuppose.”
“Doyouthinktheletterwasgenuine?”
“Noidea.Neveractuallysawit.Ishouldsayitwassomeonewhoknewthefacts,justtryingtomakeatouch.HopingtoworkonEmma’sfeelings.Theyweredeadwrong,there.Emma’snofool.Shewouldn’ttakeanunknownsister-in-lawtoherbosomwithoutaskingafewpracticalquestionsfirst.”
Headdedwithsomecuriosity:
“Butwhyaskmyviews?I’vegotnothingtodowithit?”
“Ireallycametoaskyousomethingquitedifferent—butIdon’tquiteknowhowtoputit.”
Dr.Quimperlookedinterested.
“Iunderstandthatnotlongago—atChristmas-time,Ithinkitwas—Mr.Crackenthorpehadratherabadturnofillness.”
Hesawachangeatonceinthedoctor’sface.Ithardened.
“Yes.”
“Igatheragastricdisturbanceofsomekind?”
“Yes.”
“Thisisdifficult…Mr.Crackenthorpewasboastingofhishealth,sayingheintendedtooutlivemostofhisfamily.Hereferredtoyou—you’llexcuseme,Doctor….”
“Oh,don’tmindme.I’mnotsensitiveastowhatmypatientssayaboutme!”
“Hespokeofyouasanoldfuss-pot.”Quimpersmiled.“Hesaidyouhadaskedhimallsortsofquestions,notonlyastowhathehadeaten,butastowhoprepareditandservedit.”
Thedoctorwasnotsmilingnow.Hisfacewashardagain.
“Goon.”
“Heusedsomesuchphraseas—‘Talkedasthoughhebelievedsomeonehadpoisonedme.’”
Therewasapause.
“Hadyou—anysuspicionofthatkind?”
Quimperdidnotansweratonce.Hegotupandwalkedupanddown.Finally,hewheeledroundonCraddock.
“Whatthedevildoyouexpectmetosay?Doyouthinkadoctorcangoaboutflingingaccusationsofpoisoninghereandtherewithoutanyrealevidence?”
“I’djustliketoknow,offtherecord,if—thatidea—didenteryourhead?”
Dr.Quimpersaidevasively:
“OldCrackenthorpeleadsafairlyfrugallife.Whenthefamilycomesdown,Emmastepsupthefood.Result—anastyattackofgastro-enteritis.Thesymptomswereconsistentwiththatdiagnosis.”
Craddockpersisted.
“Isee.Youwerequitesatisfied?Youwerenotatall—shallwesay—puzzled?”
“Allright.Allright.Yes,IwasYoursTrulyPuzzled!Doesthatpleaseyou?”
“Itinterestsme,”saidCraddock.“Whatactuallydidyoususpect—orfear?”
“Gastriccasesvary,ofcourse,buttherewerecertainindicationsthatwouldhavebeen,shallwesay,moreconsistentwitharsenicpoisoningthanwithplaingastro-enteritis.Mindyou,thetwothingsareverymuchalike.Bettermenthanmyselfhavefailedtorecognizearsenicpoisoning—andhavegivenacertificateinallgoodfaith.”
“Andwhatwastheresultofyourinquiries?”
“ItseemedthatwhatIsuspectedcouldnotpossiblybetrue.Mr.CrackenthorpeassuredmethathehadsimilarattacksbeforeIattendedhim—andfromthesamecause,hesaid.Theyhadalwaystakenplacewhentherewastoomuchrichfoodabout.”
“Whichwaswhenthehousewasfull?Withthefamily?Orguests?”
“Yes.Thatseemedreasonableenough.Butfrankly,Craddock,Iwasn’thappy.IwentsofarastowritetooldDr.Morris.HewasmyseniorpartnerandretiredsoonafterIjoinedhim.Crackenthorpewashispatientoriginally.Iaskedabouttheseearlierattacksthattheoldmanhadhad.”
“Andwhatresponsedidyouget?”
Quimpergrinned.
“Igotafleaintheear.Iwasmoreorlesstoldnottobeadamnedfool.Well”—heshruggedhisshoulders—“presumablyIwasadamnedfool.”
“Iwonder,”Craddockwasthoughtful.
Thenhedecidedtospeakfrankly.
“Throwingdiscretionaside,Doctor,therearepeoplewhostandtobenefitprettyconsiderablyfromLutherCrackenthorpe’sdeath.”Thedoctornodded.“He’sanoldman—andahaleandheartyone.Hemaylivetobeninetyodd?”
“Easily.Hespendshislifetakingcareofhimself,andhisconstitutionissound.”
“Andhissons—anddaughter—areallgettingon,andtheyareallfeelingthepinch?”
“YouleaveEmmaoutofit.She’snopoisoner.Theseattacksonlyhappenwhentheothersarethere—notwhensheandhearealone.”
“Anelementaryprecaution—ifshe’stheone,”theinspectorthought,butwascarefulnottosayaloud.
Hepaused,choosinghiswordscarefully
“Surely—I’mignorantonthesematters—butsupposingjustasahypothesisthatarsenicwasadministered—hasn’tCrackenthorpebeenveryluckynottosuccumb?”
“Nowthere,”saidthedoctor,“youhavegotsomethingodd.ItisexactlythatfactthatleadsmetobelievethatIhavebeen,asoldMorrisputsit,adamnedfool.Yousee,it’sobviouslynotacaseofsmalldosesofarsenicadministeredregularly—whichiswhatyoumightcalltheclassicmethodofarsenicpoisoning.Crackenthorpehasneverhadanychronicgastrictrouble.Inaway,that’swhatmakesthesesuddenviolentattacksseemunlikely.So,assumingtheyarenotduetonaturalcauses,itlooksasthoughthepoisonerismuffingiteverytime—whichhardlymakessense.”
“Givinganinadequatedose,youmean?”
“Yes.Ontheotherhand,Crackenthorpe’sgotastrongconstitutionandwhatmightdoinanotherman,doesn’tdohimin.There’salwayspersonalidiosyncrasytobereckonedwith.Butyou’dthinkthatbynowthepoisoner—unlesshe’sunusuallytimid—wouldhavesteppedupthedose.Whyhasn’the?
“Thatis,”headded,“ifthereisapoisonerwhichthereprobablyisn’t!Probablyallmyruddyimaginationfromstarttofinish.”
“It’sanoddproblem,”theinspectoragreed.“Itdoesn’tseemtomakesense.”
II
“InspectorCraddock!”
Theeagerwhispermadetheinspectorjump.
Hehadbeenjustonthepointofringingthefrontdoorbell.AlexanderandhisfriendStoddart-Westemergedcautiouslyfromtheshadows.
“Weheardyourcar,andwewantedtogetholdofyou.”
“Well,let’scomeinside.”Craddock’shandwentouttothedoorbellagain,butAlexanderpulledathiscoatwiththeeagernessofapawingdog.
“We’vefoundaclue,”hebreathed.
“Yes,we’vefoundaclue,”Stoddart-Westechoed.
“Damnthatgirl,”thoughtCraddockunamiably.
“Splendid,”hesaidinaperfunctorymanner.“Let’sgoinsidethehouseandlookatit.”
“No,”Alexanderwasinsistent.“Someone’ssuretointerrupt.Cometotheharnessroom.We’llguideyou.”
Somewhatunwillingly,Craddockallowedhimselftobeguidedroundthecornerofthehouseandalongtothestableyard.Stoddart-Westpushedopenaheavydoor,stretchedup,andturnedonaratherfeebleelectriclight.Theharnessroom,oncetheacmeofVictorianspitandpolish,wasnowthesadrepositoryofeverythingthatnoonewanted.Brokengardenchairs,rustedoldgardenimplements,avastdecrepitmowing-machine,rustedspringmattresses,hammocks,anddisintegratedtennisnets.
“Wecomehereagooddeal,”saidAlexander.“Onecanreallybeprivatehere.”
Therewerecertaintokensofoccupancyabout.Thedecayedmattresseshadbeenpileduptomakeakindofdivan,therewasanoldrustedtableonwhichreposedalargetinofchocolatebiscuits,therewasahoardofapples,atinoftoffees,andajig-sawpuzzle.
“Itreallyisaclue,sir,”saidStoddart-Westeagerly,hiseyesgleamingbehindhisspectacles.“Wefounditthisafternoon.”
“We’vebeenhuntingfordays.Inthebushes—”
“Andinsidehollowtrees—”
“Andwewentthroughtheashbins—”
“Thereweresomejollyinterestingthingsthere,asamatteroffact—”
“Andthenwewentintotheboilerhouse—”
“OldHillmankeepsagreatgalvanizedtubtherefullofwastepaper—”
“Forwhentheboilergoesoutandhewantstostartitagain—”
“Anyoddpaperthat’sblowingabout.Hepicksitupandshovesitinthere—”
“Andthat’swherewefoundit—”
“FoundWHAT?”Craddockinterruptedtheduet.
“Theclue.Careful,Stodders,getyourgloveson.”
Importantly,Stoddart-West,inthebestdetectivestorytradition,drewonapairofratherdirtyglovesandtookfromhispocketaKodakphotographicfolder.Fromthisheextractedinhisglovedfingerswiththeutmostcareasoiledandcrumpledenvelopewhichhehandedimportantlytotheinspector.
Bothboysheldtheirbreathinexcitement.
Craddocktookitwithduesolemnity.Helikedtheboysandhewasreadytoenterintothespiritofthething.
Theletterhadbeenthroughthepost,therewasnoenclosureinside,itwasjustatornenvelope—addressedtoMrs.MartineCrackenthorpe,126ElversCrescent,N.10.
“Yousee?”saidAlexanderbreathlessly.“Itshowsshewashere—UncleEdmund’sFrenchwife,Imean—theonethere’sallthefussabout.Shemusthaveactuallybeenhereanddroppedoutsomewhere.Soitlooks,doesn’tit—”
Stoddart-Westbrokein:
“Itlooksasthoughshewastheonewhogotmurdered—Imean,don’tyouthink,sir,thatitsimplymusthavebeenherinthesarcophagus?”
Theywaitedanxiously.
Craddockplayedup.
“Possible,verypossible,”hesaid.
“Thisisimportant,isn’tit?”
“You’lltestitforfingerprints,won’tyou,sir?”
“Ofcourse,”saidCraddock.
Stoddart-Westgaveadeepsigh.
“Smashingluckforus,wasn’tit?”hesaid.“Onourlastday,too.”
“Lastday?”
“Yes,”saidAlexander.“I’mgoingtoStodders’placetomorrowforthelastfewdaysoftheholidays.Stodders’peoplehavegotasmashinghouse—QueenAnne,isn’tit?”
“WilliamandMary,”saidStoddart-West.
“Ithoughtyourmothersaid—”
“Mum’sFrench.Shedoesn’treallyknowaboutEnglisharchitecture.”
“Butyourfathersaiditwasbuilt—”
Craddockwasexaminingtheenvelope.
CleverofLucyEyelesbarrow.Howhadshemanagedtofakethepostmark?Hepeeredclosely,butthelightwastoofeeble.Greatfunfortheboys,ofcourse,butratherawkwardforhim.Lucy,drather,hadn’tconsideredthatangle.Ifthisweregenuine,itwouldenforceacourseofaction.There….
Besidehimalearnedarchitecturalargumentwasbeinghotlypursued.Hewasdeaftoit.
“Comeon,boys,”hesaid,“we’llgointothehouse.You’vebeenveryhelpful.”
Eighteen
I
Craddockwasescortedbytheboysthroughthebackdoorintothehouse.Thiswas,itseemed,theircommonmodeofentrance.Thekitchenwasbrightandcheerful.Lucy,inalargewhiteapron,wasrollingoutpastry.Leaningagainstthedresser,watchingherwithakindofdog-likeattention,wasBryanEastley.Withonehandhetuggedathislargefairmoustache.
“Hallo,Dad,”saidAlexanderkindly.“Yououthereagain?”
“Ilikeitouthere,”saidBryan,andadded:“MissEyelesbarrowdoesn’tmind.”
“Oh,Idon’tmind,”saidLucy.“Goodevening,InspectorCraddock.”
“Comingtodetectinthekitchen?”askedBryanwithinterest.
“Notexactly.Mr.CedricCrackenthorpeisstillhere,isn’the?”
“Oh,yes,Cedric’shere.Doyouwanthim?”
“I’dlikeawordwithhim—yes,please.”
“I’llgoandseeifhe’sin,”saidBryan.“Hemayhavegoneroundtothelocal.”
Heunproppedhimselffromthedresser.
“Thankyousomuch,”saidLucytohim.“MyhandsarealloverflourorI’dgo.”
“Whatareyoumaking?”askedStoddart-Westanxiously.
“Peachflan.”
“Good-oh,”saidStoddart-West.
“Isitnearlysuppertime?”askedAlexander.
“No.”
“Gosh!I’mterriblyhungry.”
“There’stheendofthegingercakeinthelarder.”
Theboysmadeaconcertedrushandcollidedinthedoor.
“They’rejustlikelocusts,”saidLucy.
“Mycongratulationstoyou,”saidCraddock.
“Whaton—exactly?”
“Youringenuity—overthis!”
“Overwhat!”
Craddockindicatedthefoldercontainingtheletter.
“Verynicelydone,”hesaid.
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“This,mydeargirl—this.”Hehalf-drewitout.
Shestaredathimuncomprehendingly.
Craddockfeltsuddenlydizzy.
“Didn’tyoufakethisclue—andputitintheboilerroom,fortheboystofind?Quick—tellme.”
“Ihaven’tthefaintestideawhatyou’retalkingabout,”saidLucy.“Doyoumeanthat—?”
CraddockslippedthefolderquicklybackinhispocketasBryanreturned.
“Cedric’sinthelibrary,”hesaid.“Goonin.”
Heresumedhisplaceonthedresser.InspectorCraddockwenttothelibrary.
II
CedricCrackenthorpeseemeddelightedtoseetheinspector.
“Doingaspotmoresleuthingdownhere?”heasked.“Gotanyfurther?”
“IthinkIcansaywearealittlefurtheron,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
“Foundoutwhothecorpsewas?”
“We’venotgotadefiniteidentification,butwehaveafairlyshrewdidea.”
“Goodforyou.”
“Arisingoutofourlatestinformation,wewanttogetafewstatements.I’mstartingwithyou,Mr.Crackenthorpe,asyou’reonthespot.”
“Ishan’tbemuchlonger.I’mgoingbacktoIbizainadayortwo.”
“ThenIseemtobejustintime.”
“Goahead.”
“Ishouldlikeadetailedaccount,please,ofexactlywhereyouwereandwhatyouweredoingonFriday,20thDecember.”
Cedricshotaquickglanceathim.Thenheleanedback,yawned,assumedanairofgreatnonchalance,andappearedtobelostintheeffortofremembrance.
“Well,asI’vealreadytoldyou,IwasinIbiza.Troubleis,onedaythereissolikeanother.Paintinginthemorning,siestafromthreep.m.tofive.Perhapsaspotofsketchingifthelight’ssuitable.Thenanapéritif,sometimeswiththemayor,sometimeswiththedoctor,atthecaféinthePiazza.Afterthatsomekindofascratchmeal.MostoftheeveninginScotty’sBarwithsomeofmylower-classfriends.Willthatdoyou?”
“I’dratherhavethetruth,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
Cedricsatup.
“That’samostoffensiveremark,Inspector.”
“Doyouthinkso?Youtoldme,Mr.Crackenthorpe,thatyouleftIbizaon21stDecemberandarrivedinEnglandthatsameday?”
“SoIdid.Em!Hi,Em?”
EmmaCrackenthorpecamethroughtheadjoiningdoorfromthesmallmorningroom.ShelookedinquiringlyfromCedrictotheinspector.
“Lookhere,Em.IarrivedhereforChristmasontheSaturdaybefore,didn’tI?Camestraightfromtheairport?”
“Yes,”saidEmmawonderingly.“Yougothereaboutlunchtime.”
“Thereyouare,”saidCedrictotheinspector.
“Youmustthinkusveryfoolish,Mr.Crackenthorpe,”saidCraddockpleasantly.“Wecancheckonthesethings,youknow.Ithink,ifyou’llshowmeyourpassport—”
Hepausedexpectantly.
“Can’tfindthedamnedthing,”saidCedric.“Waslookingforitthismorning.WantedtosendittoCook’s.”
“Ithinkyoucouldfindit,Mr.Crackenthorpe.Butit’snotreallynecessary.Therecordsshowthatyouactuallyenteredthiscountryontheeveningof19thDecember.Perhapsyouwillnowaccounttomeforyourmovementsbetweenthattimeuntillunchtimeon21stDecemberwhenyouarrivedhere.”
Cedriclookedverycrossindeed.
“That’sthehelloflifenowadays,”hesaidangrily.“Allthisredtapeandform-filling.That’swhatcomesofabureaucraticstate.Can’tgowhereyoulikeanddoasyoupleaseanymore!Somebody’salwaysaskingquestions.What’sallthisfussaboutthe20th,anyway?What’sspecialaboutthe20th?”
“Ithappenstobethedaywebelievethemurderwascommitted.Youcanrefusetoanswer,ofcourse,but—”
“WhosaysIrefusetoanswer?Giveachaptime.Andyouwerevagueenoughaboutthedateofthemurderattheinquest.What’sturnedupnewsincethen?”
Craddockdidnotreply.
Cedricsaid,withasidelongglanceatEmma:
“Shallwegointotheotherroom?”
Emmasaidquickly:“I’llleaveyou.”Atthedoor,shepausedandturned.
“Thisisserious,youknow,Cedric.Ifthe20thwasthedayofmurder,thenyoumusttellInspectorCraddockexactlywhatyouweredoing.”
Shewentthroughintothenextroomandclosedthedoorbehindher.
“GoodoldEm,”saidCedric.“Well,heregoes.Yes,IleftIbizaonthe19thallright.PlannedtobreakthejourneyinParis,andspendacoupleofdaysroutingupsomeoldfriendsontheLeftBank.But,asamatteroffact,therewasaveryattractivewomanontheplane…Quiteadish.Toputitplainly,sheandIgotofftogether.ShewasonherwaytotheStates,hadtospendacoupleofnightsinLondontoseeaboutsomebusinessorother.WegottoLondononthe19th.WestayedattheKingswayPalaceincaseyourspieshaven’tfoundthatoutyet!CalledmyselfJohnBrown—neverdoestouseyourownnameontheseoccasions.”
“Andonthe20th?”
Cedricmadeagrimace.
“Morningprettywelloccupiedbyaterrifichangover.”
“Andtheafternoon.Fromthreeo’clockonwards?”
“Letmesee.Well,Imoonedabout,asyoumightsay.WentintotheNationalGalley—that’srespectableenough.Sawafilm.RowennaoftheRange.I’vealwayshadapassionforWesterns.Thiswasacorker…Thenadrinkortwointhebarandabitofasleepinmyroom,andoutaboutteno’clockwiththegirl-friendandaroundofvarioushotspots—can’tevenremembermostoftheirnames—JumpingFrogwasone,Ithink.Sheknew’emall.Gotprettywellplasteredandtotellthetruth,don’tremembermuchmoretillIwokeupthenextmorning—withanevenworsehangover.GirlfriendhoppedofftocatchherplaneandIpouredcoldwaterovermyhead,gotachemisttogivemeadevils’brew,andthenstartedoffforthisplace,pretendingI’djustarrivedatHeathrow.NoneedtoupsetEmma,Ithought.Youknowwhatwomenare—alwayshurtifyoudon’tcomestraighthome.Ihadtoborrowmoneyfromhertopaythetaxi.Iwascompletelycleanedout.Nouseaskingtheoldman.He’dnevercoughup.Meanoldbrute.Well,Inspector,satisfied?”
“Cananyofthisbesubstantiated,Mr.Crackenthorpe?Saybetween3p.m.and7p.m.”
“Mostunlikely,Ishouldthink,”saidCedriccheerfully.“NationalGallerywheretheattendantslookatyouwithlack-lustreeyesandacrowdedpictureshow.No,notlikely.”
Emmareentered.Sheheldasmallengagementbookinherhand.
“Youwanttoknowwhateveryonewasdoingon20thDecember,isthatright,InspectorCraddock?”
“Well—er—yes,MissCrackenthorpe.”
“Ihavejustbeenlookinginmyengagementbook.Onthe20thIwentintoBrackhamptontoattendameetingoftheChurchRestorationFund.ThatfinishedaboutaquartertooneandIlunchedwithLadyAdingtonandMissBartlettwhowerealsoonthecommittee,attheCadenaCafé.AfterlunchIdidsomeshopping,storesforChristmas,andalsoChristmaspresents.IwenttoGreenford’sandLyallandSwift’s,Boots’,andprobablyseveralothershops.IhadteaaboutaquartertofiveintheShamrockTeaRoomsandthenwenttothestationtomeetBryanwhowascomingbytrain.Igothomeaboutsixo’clockandfoundmyfatherinaverybadtemper.Ihadleftlunchreadyforhim,butMrs.Hartwhowastocomeinintheafternoonandgivehimhisteahadnotarrived.Hewassoangrythathehadshuthimselfinhisroomandwouldnotletmeinorspeaktome.Hedoesnotlikemygoingoutintheafternoon,butImakeapointofdoingsonowandthen.”
“You’reprobablywise.Thankyou,MissCrackenthorpe.”
Hecouldhardlytellherthatasshewasawoman,heightfivefootseven,hermovementsthatafternoonwereofnogreatimportance.Insteadhesaid:
“Yourothertwobrotherscamedownlater,Iunderstand?”
“AlfredcamedownlateonSaturdayevening.HetellsmehetriedtoringmeonthetelephonethatafternoonIwasout—butmyfather,ifheisupset,willneveranswerthetelephone.MybrotherHarolddidnotcomedownuntilChristmasEve.”
“Thankyou,MissCrackenthorpe.”
“IsupposeImustn’task”—shehesitated—“whathascomeupnewthatpromptstheseinquiries?”
Craddocktookthefolderfromhispocket.Usingthetipsofhisfingers,heextractedtheenvelope.
“Don’ttouchit,please,butdoyourecognizethis?”
“But…”Emmastaredathim,bewildered.“That’smyhandwriting.That’stheletterIwrotetoMartine.”
“Ithoughtitmightbe.”
“Buthowdidyougetit?Didshe—?Haveyoufoundher?”
“Itwouldseempossiblethatwehave—foundher.Thisemptyenvelopewasfoundhere.”
“Inthehouse?”
“Inthegrounds.”
“Then—shedidcomehere!She…Youmean—itwasMartinethere—inthesarcophagus?”
“Itwouldseemverylikely,MissCrackenthorpe,”saidCraddockgently.
Itseemedevenmorelikelywhenhegotbacktotown.AmessagewasawaitinghimfromArmandDessin.
“Oneofthegirl-friendshashadapostcardfromAnnaStravinska.Apparentlythecruisestorywastrue!ShehasreachedJamaicaandishaving,inyourphrase,awonderfultime!”
Craddockcrumpledupthemessageandthrewitintothewastepaperbasket.
III
“Imustsay,”saidAlexander,sittingupinbed,thoughtfullyconsumingachocolatebar,“thatthishasbeenthemostsmashingdayever.Actuallyfindingarealclue!”
Hisvoicewasawed.
“Infactthewholeholidayshavebeensmashing,”headdedhappily.“Idon’tsupposesuchathingwilleverhappenagain.”
“Ihopeitwon’thappenagaintome,”saidLucywhowasonherkneespackingAlexander’sclothesintoasuitcase.“Doyouwantallthisspacefictionwithyou?”
“Notthosetwotopones.I’vereadthem.Thefootballandmyfootballboots,andthegum-bootscangoseparately.”
“Whatdifficultthingsyouboysdotravelwith.”
“Itwon’tmatter.They’resendingtheRollsforus.They’vegotasmashingRolls.They’vegotoneofthenewMercedes-Benzestoo.”
“Theymustberich.”
“Rolling!Jollynice,too.Allthesame,Iratherwishweweren’tleavinghere.Anotherbodymightturnup.”
“Isincerelyhopenot.”
“Well,itoftendoesinbooks.Imeansomebodywho’sseensomethingorheardsomethinggetsdonein,too.Itmightbeyou,”headded,unrollingasecondchocolatebar.
“Thankyou!”
“Idon’twantittobeyou,”Alexanderassuredher.“IlikeyouverymuchandsodoesStodders.Wethinkyou’reoutofthisworldasacook.Absolutelylovelygrub.You’reverysensible,too.”
Thislastwasclearlyanexpressionofhighapproval.Lucytookitassuch,andsaid:“Thankyou.ButIdon’tintendtogetkilledjusttopleaseyou.”
“Well,you’dbetterbecareful,then,”Alexandertoldher.
Hepausedtoconsumemorenourishmentandthensaidinaslightlyoffhandvoice:
“IfDadturnsupfromtimetotime,you’lllookafterhim,won’tyou?”
“Yes,ofcourse,”saidLucy,alittlesurprised.
“ThetroublewithDadis,”Alexanderinformedher,“thatLondonlifedoesn’tsuithim.Hegetsin,youknow,withquitethewrongtypeofwomen.”Heshookhisheadinaworriedmanner.
“I’mveryfondofhim,”headded;“butheneedssomeonetolookafterhim.Hedriftsaboutandgetsinwiththewrongpeople.It’sagreatpityMumdiedwhenshedid.Bryanneedsaproperhomelife.”
HelookedsolemnlyatLucyandreachedoutforanotherchocolatebar.
“Notafourthone,Alexander,”Lucypleaded.“You’llbesick.”
“Oh,Idon’tthinkso.IatesixrunningonceandIwasn’t.I’mnotthebilioustype.”Hepausedandthensaid:
“Bryanlikesyou,youknow.”
“That’sveryniceofhim.”
“He’sabitofanassinsomeways,”saidBryan’sson;“buthewasajollygoodfighterpilot.He’sawfullybrave.Andhe’sawfullygood-natured.”
Hepaused.Then,avertinghiseyestotheceiling,hesaidratherself-consciously:
“Ithink,really,youknow,itwouldbeagoodthingifhemarriedagain…Somebodydecent…Ishouldn’t,myself,mindatallhavingastepmother…not,Imean,ifshewasadecentsort….”
WithasenseofshockLucyrealizedthattherewasadefinitepointinAlexander’sconversation.
“Allthisstepmotherbosh,”wentonAlexander,stilladdressingtheceiling,“isreallyquiteoutofdate.LotsofchapsStoddersandIknowhavestepmothers—divorceandallthat—andtheygetonquitewelltogether.Dependsonthestepmother,ofcourse.Andofcourse,itdoesmakeabitofconfusiontakingyououtandonSportsDay,andallthat.Imeaniftherearetwosetsofparents.Thoughagainithelpsifyouwanttocashin!”Hepaused,confrontedwiththeproblemsofmodernlife.“It’snicesttohaveyourownhomeandyourownparents—butifyourmother’sdead—well,youseewhatImean?Ifshe’sadecentsort,”saidAlexanderforthethirdtime.
Lucyfelttouched.
“Ithinkyou’reverysensible,Alexander,”shesaid.“Wemusttryandfindanicewifeforyourfather.”
“Yes,”saidAlexandernoncommittally.
Headdedinanoffhandmanner:
“IthoughtI’djustmentionit.Bryanlikesyouverymuch.Hetoldmeso….”
“Really,”thoughtLucytoherself.“There’stoomuchmatch-makingroundhere.FirstMissMarpleandnowAlexander!”
Forsomereasonorother,pigstiescameintohermind.
Shestoodup.
“Goodnight,Alexander.Therewillbeonlyyourwashingthingsandpyjamastoputininthemorning.Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,”saidAlexander.Hesliddowninbed,laidhisheadonthepillow,closedhiseyes,givingaperfectpictureofasleepingangel;andwasimmediatelyasleep.
Nineteen
I
“Notwhatyou’dcallconclusive,”saidSergeantWetherallwithhisusualgloom
CraddockwasreadingthroughthereportonHaroldCrackenthorpe’salibifor20thDecember.
HehadbeennoticedatSotheby’saboutthree-thirty,butwasthoughttohaveleftshortlyafterthat.HisphotographhadnotbeenrecognizedatRussell’steashop,butastheydidabusytradethereatteatime,andhewasnotanhabitué,thatwashardlysurprising.HismanservantconfirmedthathehadreturnedtoCardiganGardenstodressforhisdinner-partyataquartertoseven—ratherlate,sincethedinnerwasatseven-thirty,andMr.Crackenthorpehadbeensomewhatirritableinconsequence.Didnotrememberhearinghimcomeinthatevening,but,asitwassometimeago,couldnotrememberaccuratelyand,inanycase,hefrequentlydidnothearMr.Crackenthorpecomein.Heandhiswifelikedtoretireearlywhenevertheycould.ThegarageinthemewswhereHaroldkepthiscarwasaprivatelockupthatherentedandtherewasnoonetonoticewhocameandwentoranyreasontorememberoneeveninginparticular.
“Allnegative,”saidCraddock,withasigh.
“HewasattheCaterers’Dinnerallright,butleftratherearlybeforetheendofthespeeches.”
“Whatabouttherailwaystations?”
Buttherewasnothingthere,eitheratBrackhamptonoratPaddington.Itwasnearlyfourweeksago,anditwashighlyunlikelythatanythingwouldhavebeenremembered.
Craddocksighed,andstretchedouthishandforthedataonCedric.Thatagainwasnegative,thoughataxi-driverhadmadeadoubtfulrecognitionofhavingtakenafaretoPaddingtonthatdaysometimeintheafternoon“whatlookedsomethinglikethatbloke.Dirtytrousersandashockofhair.CussedandsworeabitbecausefareshadgoneupsincehewaslastinEngland.”HeidentifiedthedaybecauseahorsecalledCrawlerhadwonthetwo-thirtyandhe’dhadatidybiton.Justafterdroppingthegent,he’dhearditontheradioinhiscabandhadgonehomeforthwithtocelebrate.
“ThankGodforracing!”saidCraddock,andputthereportaside.
“Andhere’sAlfred,”saidSergeantWetherall.
SomenuanceinhisvoicemadeCraddocklookupsharply.Wetherallhadthepleasedappearanceofamanwhohaskeptatitbituntiltheend.
Inthemainthecheckwasunsatisfactory.Alfredlivedaloneinhisflatandcameandwentatunspecifiedtimes.Hisneighbourswerenottheinquisitivekindandwereinanycaseofficeworkerswhowereoutallday.Buttowardstheendofthereport,Wetherall’slargefingerindicatedthefinalparagraph.
SergeantLeakie,assignedtoacaseoftheftsfromlorries,hadbeenattheLoadofBricks,alorrypull-upontheWaddington-BrackhamptonRoad,keepingcertainlorrydriversunderobservation.Hehadnoticedatanadjoiningtable,ChickEvans,oneoftheDickyRogersmob.WithhimhadbeenAlfredCrackenthorpewhomheknewbysight,havingseenhimgiveevidenceintheDickyRogerscase.He’dwonderedwhattheywerecookinguptogether.Time,9:30p.m.,Friday,20thDecember.AlfredCrackenthorpehadboardedabusafewminuteslater,goinginthedirectionofBrackhampton.WilliamBaker,ticketcollectoratBrackhamptonstation,hadclippedticketofgentlemanwhomherecognizedbysightasoneofMissCrackenthorpe’sbrothers,justbeforedepartureofeleven-fifty-fivetrainforPaddington.Remembersdayastherehadbeenstoryofsomebattyoldladywhosworeshehadseensomebodymurderedinatrainthatafternoon
“Alfred?”saidCraddockashelaidthereportdown.“Alfred?Iwonder.”
“Putshimrightonthespot,there,”Wetherallpointedout.
Craddocknodded.Yes,Alfredcouldhavetravelleddownbythe4:33toBrackhamptoncommittingmurderontheway.ThenhecouldhavegoneoutbybustotheLoadofBricks.Hecouldhaveleftthereatnine-thirtyandwouldhavehadplentyoftimetogotoRutherfordHall,movethebodyfromtheembankmenttothesarcophagus,andgetintoBrackhamptonintimetocatchthe11:55backtoLondon.OneoftheDickyRogersgangmightevenhavehelpedmovethebody,thoughCraddockdoubtedthis.Anunpleasantlot,butnotkillers.
“Alfred?”herepeatedspeculatively.
II
AtRutherfordHalltherehadbeenagatheringoftheCrackenthorpefamily.HaroldandAlfredhadcomedownfromLondonandverysoonvoiceswereraisedandtemperswererunninghigh.
Onherowninitiative,Lucymixedcocktailsinajugwithiceandthentookthemtowardsthelibrary.Thevoicessoundedclearlyinthehall,andindicatedthatagooddealofacrimonywasbeingdirectedtowardsEmma.
“Entirelyyourfault,Emma,”Harold’sbassvoicerangoutangrily.“Howyoucouldbesoshortsightedandfoolishbeatsme.Ifyouhadn’ttakenthatlettertoScotlandYard—andstartedallthis—”
Alfred’shigh-pitchedvoicesaid:“Youmusthavebeenoutofyoursenses!”
“Nowdon’tbullyher,”saidCedric.“What’sdoneisdone.Muchmorefishyifthey’didentifiedthewomanasthemissingMartineandwe’dallkeptmumabouthavingheardfromher.”
“It’sallverywellforyou,Cedric,”saidHaroldangrily.“Youwereoutofthecountryonthe20thwhichseemstobethedaytheyareinquiringabout.Butit’sveryembarrassingforAlfredandmyself.Fortunately,IcanrememberwhereIwasthatafternoonandwhatIwasdoing.”
“Ibetyoucan,”saidAlfred.“Ifyou’darrangedamurder,Harold,you’darrangeyouralibiverycarefully,I’msure.”
“Igatheryouarenotsofortunate,”saidHaroldcoldly.
“Thatdepends,”saidAlfred.“Anything’sbetterthanpresentingacast-ironalibitothepoliceifitisn’treallycast-iron.They’resocleveratbreakingthesethingsdown.”
“IfyouareinsinuatingthatIkilledthewoman—”
“Oh,dostop,allofyou,”criedEmma.“Ofcoursenoneofyoukilledthewoman.”
“Andjustforyourinformation,Iwasn’toutofEnglandonthe20th,”saidCedric.“Andthepolicearewisetoit!Sowe’reallundersuspicion.”
“Ifithadn’tbeenforEmma—”
“Oh,don’tbeginagain,Harold,”criedEmma.
Dr.QuimpercameoutofthestudywherehehadbeenclosetedwitholdMr.Crackenthorpe.HiseyefellonthejuginLucy’shand.
“What’sthis?Acelebration?”
“Moreinthenatureofoilontroubledwaters.They’reatithammerandtongsinthere.”
“Recriminations?”
“MostlyabusingEmma.”
Dr.Quimper’seyebrowsrose.
“Indeed?”HetookthejugfromLucy’shand,openedthelibrarydoorandwentin.
“Goodevening.”
“Ah,Dr.Quimper,Ishouldlikeawordwithyou.”ItwasHarold’svoice,raisedandirritable.“Ishouldliketoknowwhatyoumeantbyinterferinginaprivateandfamilymatter,andtellingmysistertogotoScotlandYardaboutit.”
Dr.Quimpersaidcalmly:
“MissCrackenthorpeaskedmyadvice.Igaveittoher.Inmyopinionshedidperfectlyright.”
“Youdaretosay—”
“Girl!”
ItwasoldMr.Crackenthorpe’sfamiliarsalutation.HewaspeeringoutofthestudydoorjustbehindLucy.
Lucyturnedratherreluctantly.
“Yes,Mr.Crackenthorpe?”
“Whatareyougivingusfordinnertonight?Iwantcurry.Youmakeaverygoodcurry.It’sagessincewe’vehadcurry.”
“Theboysdon’tcaremuchforcurry,yousee.”
“Theboys—theboys.Whatdotheboysmatter?I’mtheonewhomatters.And,anyway,theboyshavegone—goodriddance.Iwantanicehotcurry,doyouhear?”
“Allright,Mr.Crackenthorpe,youshallhaveit.”
“That’sright.You’reagoodgirl,Lucy.YoulookaftermeandI’lllookafteryou.”
Lucywentbacktothekitchen.Abandoningthefricasséeofchickenwhichshehadplanned,shebegantoassemblethepreparationsforcurry.ThefrontdoorbangedandfromthewindowshesawDr.Quimperstrideangrilyfromthehousetohiscaranddriveaway.
Lucysighed.Shemissedtheboys.AndinawayshemissedBryan,too.
Oh,well.Shesatdownandbegantopeelmushrooms.
Atanyrateshe’dgivethefamilyarattlinggooddinner.
Feedthebrutes!
III
Itwas3a.m.whenDr.Quimperdrovehiscarintothegarage,closedthedoorsandcameinpullingthefrontdoorbehindhimratherwearily.Well,Mrs.JoshSimpkinshadafinehealthypairoftwinstoaddtoherpresentfamilyofeight.Mr.Simpkinshadexpressednoelationoverthearrival.“Twins,”hehadsaidgloomily.“What’sthegoodofthey?Quadsnow,they’regoodforsomething.Allsortsofthingsyougetsent,andthePresscomesroundandthere’spicturesinthepaper,andtheydosayasHerMajestysendsyouatelegram.Butwhat’stwinsexcepttwomouthstofeedinsteadofone?Neverbeentwinsinourfamily,norinthemissus’seither.Don’tseemfair,somehow.”
Dr.Quimperwalkedupstairstohisbedroomandstartedthrowingoffhisclothes.Heglancedathiswatch.Fiveminutespastthree.Ithadprovedanunexpectedlytrickybusinessbringingthosetwinsintotheworld,butallhadgonewell.Heyawned.Hewastired—verytired.Helookedappreciativelyathisbed.
Thenthetelephonerang.
Dr.Quimperswore,andpickedupthereceiver.
“Dr.Quimper?”
“Speaking.”
“ThisisLucyEyelesbarrowfromRutherfordHall.Ithinkyou’dbettercomeover.Everybodyseemstohavetakenill.”
“Takenill?How?Whatsymptoms?”
Lucydetailedthem.
“I’llbeoverstraightaway.Inthemeantime…”Hegavehershortsharpinstructions.
Thenhequicklyresumedhisclothes,flungafewextrathingsintohisemergencybag,andhurrieddowntohiscar.
IV
ItwassomethreehourslaterwhenthedoctorandLucy,bothofthemsomewhatexhausted,satdownbythekitchentabletodrinklargecupsofblackcoffee.
“Ha,”Dr.Quimperdrainedhiscup,setitdownwithaclatteronthesaucer.“Ineededthat.Now,MissEyelesbarrow,let’sgetdowntobrasstacks.”
Lucylookedathim.Thelinesoffatigueshowedclearlyonhisfacemakinghimlookolderthanhisforty-fouryears,thedarkhaironhistempleswasfleckedwithgrey,andtherewerelinesunderhiseyes.
“AsfarasIcanjudge,”saidthedoctor,“they’llbeallrightnow.Buthowcome?That’swhatIwanttoknow.Whocookedthedinner?”
“Idid,”saidLucy.
“Andwhatwasit?Indetail.”
“Mushroomsoup.Curriedchickenandrice.Syllabubs.Asavouryofchickenliversandbacon.”
“CanapésDiane,”saidDr.Quimperunexpectedly.
Lucysmiledfaintly.
“Yes,CanapésDiane.”
“Allright—let’sgothroughit.Mushroomsoup—outofatin,Isuppose?”
“Certainlynot.Imadeit.”
“Youmadeit.Outofwhat?”
“Halfapoundofmushrooms,chickenstock,milk,arouxofbutterandflour,andlemonjuice.”
“Ah.Andone’ssupposedtosay‘Itmusthavebeenthemushrooms.’”
“Itwasn’tthemushrooms.IhadsomeofthesoupmyselfandI’mquiteallright.”
“Yes,you’requiteallright.Ihadn’tforgottenthat.”
Lucyflushed.
“Ifyoumean—”
“Idon’tmean.You’reahighlyintelligentgirl.You’dbegroaningupstairs,too,ifI’dmeantwhatyouthoughtImeant.Anyway,Iknowallaboutyou.I’vetakenthetroubletofindout.”
“Whyonearthdidyoudothat?”
Dr.Quimper’slipsweresetinagrimline.
“BecauseI’mmakingitmybusinesstofindoutaboutthepeoplewhocomehereandsettlethemselvesin.You’reabonafideyoungwomanwhodoesthisparticularjobforalivelihoodandyouseemnevertohavehadanycontactwiththeCrackenthorpefamilyprevioustocominghere.Soyou’renotagirl-friendofeitherCedric,HaroldorAlfred—helpingthemtodoabitofdirtywork.”
“Doyoureallythink—?”
“Ithinkquitealotofthings,”saidQuimper.“ButIhavetobecareful.That’stheworstofbeingadoctor.Nowlet’sgeton.Curriedchicken.Didyouhavesomeofthat?”
“No.Whenyou’vecookedacurry,you’vedinedoffthesmell,Ifind.Itastedit,ofcourse.Ihadsoupandsomesyllabub.”
“Howdidyouservethesyllabub?”
“Inindividualglasses.”
“Now,then,howmuchofallthisisclearedup?”
“Ifyoumeanwashingup,everythingwaswashedupandputaway.”
Dr.Quimpergroaned.
“There’ssuchathingasbeingoverzealous,”hesaid.
“Yes,Icanseethat,asthingshaveturnedout,butthereitis,I’mafraid.”
“Whatdoyouhavestill?”
“There’ssomeofthecurryleft—inabowlinthelarder.Iwasplanningtouseitasabasisformulligatawnysoupthisevening.There’ssomemushroomsoupleft,too.Nosyllabubandnoneofthesavoury.”
“I’lltakethecurryandthesoup.Whataboutchutney?Didtheyhavechutneywithit?”
“Yes.Inoneofthosestonejars.”
“I’llhavesomeofthat,too.”
Herose.“I’llgoupandhavealookatthemagain.Afterthat,canyouholdthefortuntilmorning?Keepaneyeonthemall?Icanhaveanurseround,withfullinstructions,byeighto’clock.”
“Iwishyou’dtellmestraightout.Doyouthinkit’sfoodpoisoning—or—or—well,poisoning.”
“I’vetoldyoualready.Doctorscan’tthink—theyhavetobesure.Ifthere’sapositiveresultfromthesefoodspecimensIcangoahead.Otherwise—”
“Otherwise?”Lucyrepeated.
Dr.Quimperlaidahandonhershoulder
“Lookaftertwopeopleinparticular,”hesaid.“LookafterEmma.I’mnotgoingtohaveanythinghappentoEmma….”
Therewasemotioninhisvoicethatcouldnotbedisguised.“She’snotevenbeguntoliveyet,”hesaid.“Andyouknow,peoplelikeEmmaCrackenthorpearethesaltoftheearth…Emma—well,Emmameansalottome.I’venevertoldherso,butIshall.LookafterEmma.”
“YoubetIwill,”saidLucy.
“Andlookaftertheoldman.Ican’tsaythathe’severbeenmyfavouritepatient,butheismypatient,andI’mdamnedifI’mgoingtolethimbehustledoutoftheworldbecauseoneorotherofhisunpleasantsons—orallthreeofthem,maybe—wanthimoutofthewaysothattheycanhandlehismoney.”
Hethrewherasuddenquizzicalglance.
“There,”hesaid.“I’veopenedmymouthtoowide.Butkeepyoureyesskinned,there’sagoodgirl,andincidentallykeepyourmouthshut.”
V
InspectorBaconwaslookingupset.
“Arsenic?”hesaid.“Arsenic?”
“Yes.Itwasinthecurry.Here’stherestofthecurry—foryourfellowtohaveagoat.I’veonlydoneaveryroughtestonalittleofit,buttheresultwasquitedefinite.”
“Sothere’sapoisoneratwork?”
“Itwouldseemso,”saidDr.Quimperdryly.
“Andthey’reallaffected,yousay—exceptthatMissEyelesbarrow.”
“ExceptMissEyelesbarrow.”
“Looksabitfishyforher….”
“Whatmotivecouldshepossiblyhave?”
“Mightbebarmy,”suggestedBacon.“Seemallright,theydo,sometimes,andyetallthetimethey’rerightofftheirrocker,sotospeak.”
“MissEyelesbarrowisn’toffherrocker.Speakingasamedicalman,MissEyelesbarrowisassaneasyouorIare.IfMissEyelesbarrowisfeedingthefamilyarsenicintheircurry,she’sdoingitforareason.Moreover,beingahighlyintelligentyoungwoman,she’dbecarefulnottobetheonlyoneunaffected.Whatshe’ddo,whatanyintelligentpoisonerwoulddo,wouldbetoeataverylittleofthepoisonedcurry,andthenexaggeratethesymptoms.”
“Andthenyouwouldn’tbeabletotell?”
“Thatshe’dhadlessthantheothers?Probablynot.Peopledon’tallreactaliketopoisonsanyway—thesameamountwillupsetsomepeoplemorethanothers.Ofcourse,”addedDr.Quimpercheerfully,“oncethepatient’sdead,youcanestimatefairlycloselyhowmuchwastaken.”
“Thenitmightbe…”InspectorBaconpausedtoconsolidatehisidea.“Itmightbethatthere’soneofthefamilynowwho’smakingmorefussthanheneed—someonewhoyoumightsayismuckinginwiththerestsoastoavoidcausingsuspicion?How’sthat?”
“Theideahasalreadyoccurredtome.That’swhyI’mreportingtoyou.It’sinyourhandsnow.I’vegotanurseonthejobthatIcantrust,butshecan’tbeeverywhereatonce.Inmyopinion,nobody’shadenoughtocausedeath.”
“Madeamistake,thepoisonerdid?”
“No.Itseemstomemorelikelythattheideawastoputenoughinthecurrytocausesignsoffoodpoisoning—forwhichprobablythemushroomswouldbeblamed.Peoplearealwaysobsessedwiththeideaofmushroompoisoning.Thenonepersonwouldprobablytakeaturnfortheworseanddie.”
“Becausehe’dbeengivenaseconddose?”
Thedoctornodded.
“That’swhyI’mreportingtoyouatonce,andwhyI’veputaspecialnurseonthejob.”
“Sheknowsaboutthearsenic?”
“Ofcourse.SheknowsandsodoesMissEyelesbarrow.Youknowyourownjobbest,ofcourse,butifIwereyou,I’dgetoutthereandmakeitquitecleartothemallthatthey’resufferingfromarsenicpoisoning.ThatwillprobablyputthefearoftheLordintoourmurdererandhewon’tdaretocarryouthisplan.He’sprobablybeenbankingonthefood-poisoningtheory.”
Thetelephonerangontheinspector’sdesk.Hepickeditupandsaid:
“OK.Putherthrough.”HesaidtoQuimper,“It’syournurseonthephone.Yes,hallo—speaking…What’sthat?Seriousrelapse…Yes…Dr.Quimper’swithmenow…Ifyou’dlikeawordwithhim….”
Hehandedthereceivertothedoctor.
“Quimperspeaking…Isee…Yes…Quiteright…Yes,carryonwiththat.We’llbealong.”
HeputthereceiverdownandturnedtoBacon.
“Whoisit?”
“It’sAlfred,”saidDr.Quimper.“Andhe’sdead.”
Twenty
I
Overthetelephone,Craddock’svoicecameinsharpdisbelief.
“Alfred?”hesaid.“Alfred?”
InspectorBacon,shiftingthetelephonereceiveralittle,said:“Youdidn’texpectthat?”
“No,indeed.Asamatteroffact,I’djustgothimtapedforthemurderer!”
“Iheardabouthimbeingspottedbytheticketcollector.Lookedbadforhimallright.Yes,lookedasthoughwe’dgotourman.”
“Well,”saidCraddockflatly,“wewerewrong.”
Therewasamoment’ssilence.ThenCraddockasked:
“Therewasanurseincharge.Howdidshecometoslipup?”
“Can’tblameher.MissEyelesbarrowwasallinandwenttogetabitofsleep.Thenursehadfivepatientsonherhands,theoldman,Emma,Cedric,HaroldandAlfred.Shecouldn’tbeeverywhereatonce.ItseemsoldMr.Crackenthorpestartedcreatinginabigway.Saidhewasdying.Shewentin,gothimsootheddown,camebackagainandtookAlfredinsometeawithglucose.Hedrankitandthatwasthat.”
“Arsenicagain?”
“Seemsso.Ofcourseitcouldhavebeenarelapse,butQuimperdoesn’tthinksoandJohnstoneagrees.”
“Isuppose,”saidCraddock,doubtfully,“thatAlfredwasmeanttobethevictim?”
Baconsoundedinterested.“YoumeanthatwhereasAlfred’sdeathwouldn’tdoanyoneapenn’orthofgood,theoldman’sdeathwouldbenefitthelotofthem?Isupposeitmighthavebeenamistake—somebodymighthavethoughttheteawasintendedfortheoldman.”
“Aretheysurethatthat’sthewaythestuffwasadministered?”
“No,ofcoursetheyaren’tsure.Thenurse,likeagoodnurse,washedupthewholecontraption.Cups,spoons,teapot—everything.Butitseemstheonlyfeasiblemethod.”
“Meaning,”saidCraddockthoughtfully,“thatoneofthepatientswasn’tasillastheothers?Sawhischanceanddopedthecup?”
“Well,therewon’tbeanymorefunnybusiness,”saidInspectorBacongrimly.“We’vegottwonursesonthejobnow,tosaynothingofMissEyelesbarrow,andI’vegotacoupleofmentheretoo.Youcomingdown?”
“AsfastasIcanmakeit!”
II
LucyEyelesbarrowcameacrossthehalltomeetInspectorCraddock.Shelookedpaleanddrawn.
“You’vebeenhavingabadtimeofit,”saidCraddock.
“It’sbeenlikeonelongghastlynightmare,”saidLucy.“Ireallythoughtlastnightthattheywerealldying.”
“Aboutthiscurry—”
“Itwasthecurry?”
“Yes,verynicelylacedwitharsenic—quitetheBorgiatouch.”
“Ifthat’strue,”saidLucy.“Itmust—it’sgottobe—oneofthefamily.”
“Nootherpossibility?”
“No,youseeIonlystartedmakingthatdamnedcurryquitelate—aftersixo’clock—becauseMr.Crackenthorpespeciallyaskedforcurry.AndIhadtoopenanewtinofcurrypowder—sothatcouldn’thavebeentamperedwith.Isupposecurrywoulddisguisethetaste?”
“Arsenichasn’tanytaste,”saidCraddockabsently.“Now,opportunity.Whichofthemhadthechancetotamperwiththecurrywhileitwascooking?”
Lucyconsidered.
“Actually,”shesaid,“anyonecouldhavesneakedintothekitchenwhilstIwaslayingthetableinthediningroom.”
“Isee.Now,whowashereinthehouse?OldMr.Crackenthorpe,Emma,Cedric—”
“HaroldandAlfred.They’dcomedownfromLondonintheafternoon.Oh,andBryan—BryanEastley.Butheleftjustbeforedinner.HehadtomeetamaninBrackhampton.”
Craddocksaidthoughtfully,“Ittiesupwiththeoldman’sillnessatChristmas.Quimpersuspectedthatthatwasarsenic.Didtheyallseemequallyilllastnight?”
Lucyconsidered.“IthinkoldMr.Crackenthorpeseemedtheworst.Dr.Quimperhadtoworklikeamaniaconhim.He’sajollygooddoctor,Iwillsay.Cedricmadebyfarthemostfuss.Ofcourse,stronghealthypeoplealwaysdo.”
“WhataboutEmma?”
“Shehasbeenprettybad.”
“WhyAlfred,Iwonder?”saidCraddock
“Iknow,”saidLucy.“IsupposeitwasmeanttobeAlfred?”
“Funny—Iaskedthattoo!”
“Itseems,somehow,sopointless.”
“IfIcouldonlygetatthemotiveforallthisbusiness,”saidCraddock.“Itdoesn’tseemtotieup.ThestrangledwomaninthesarcophaguswasEdmundCrackenthorpe’swidow,Martine.Let’sassumethat.It’sprettywellprovedbynow.TheremustbeaconnectionbetweenthatandthedeliberatepoisoningofAlfred.It’sallhere,inthefamilysomewhere.Evensayingoneofthem’smaddoesn’thelp.”
“Notreally,”Lucyagreed.
“Well,lookafteryourself,”saidCraddockwarningly.“There’sapoisonerinthishouse,remember,andoneofyourpatientsupstairsprobablyisn’tasillashepretendstobe.”
LucywentupstairsagainslowlyafterCraddock’sdeparture.Animperiousvoice,somewhatweakenedbyillness,calledtoherasshepassedoldMr.Crackenthorpe’sroom.
“Girl—girl—isthatyou?Comehere.”
Lucyenteredtheroom.Mr.Crackenthorpewaslyinginbedwellproppedupwithpillows.ForasickmanhewaslookingLucythought,remarkablycheerful.
“Thehouseisfullofdamnedhospitalnurses,”complainedMr.Crackenthorpe.“Rustlingabout,makingthemselvesimportant,takingmytemperature,notgivingmewhatIwanttoeat—aprettypennyallthatmustbecosting.TellEmmatosend’emaway.Youcouldlookaftermequitewell.”
“Everybody’sbeentakenill,Mr.Crackenthorpe,”saidLucy.“Ican’tlookaftereverybody,youknow.”
“Mushrooms,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“Damneddangerousthings,mushrooms.Itwasthatsoupwehadlastnight.Youmadeit,”headdedaccusingly.
“Themushroomswerequiteallright,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
“I’mnotblamingyou,girl,I’mnotblamingyou.It’shappenedbefore.Oneblastedfungusslipsinanddoesit.Nobodycantell.Iknowyou’reagoodgirl.Youwouldn’tdoitonpurpose.How’sEmma?”
“Feelingratherbetterthisafternoon.”
“Ah,andHarold?”
“He’sbettertoo.”
“What’sthisaboutAlfredhavingkickedthebucket?”
“Nobody’ssupposedtohavetoldyouthat,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
Mr.Crackenthorpelaughed,ahigh,whinnyinglaughofintenseamusement.“Ihearthings,”hesaid.“Can’tkeepthingsfromtheoldman.Theytryto.SoAlfred’sdead,ishe?Hewon’tspongeonmeanymore,andhewon’tgetanyofthemoneyeither.They’veallbeenwaitingformetodie,youknow—Alfredinparticular.Nowhe’sdead.Icallthatratheragoodjoke.”
“That’snotverykindofyou,Mr.Crackenthorpe,”saidLucyseverely.
Mr.Crackenthorpelaughedagain.“I’lloutlivethemall,”hecrowed.“YouseeifIdon’t,mygirl.YouseeifIdon’t.”
Lucywenttoherroom,shetookoutherdictionaryandlookeduptheword“tontine.”Sheclosedthebookthoughtfullyandstaredaheadofher.
III
“Don’tseewhyyouwanttocometome,”saidDr.Morris,irritably.
“You’veknowntheCrackenthorpefamilyalongtime,”saidInspectorCraddock.
“Yes,yes,IknewalltheCrackenthorpes.IrememberoldJosiahCrackenthorpe.Hewasahardnut—shrewdman,though.Madealotofmoney,”heshiftedhisagedforminhischairandpeeredunderbushyeyebrowsatInspectorCraddock.“Soyou’vebeenlisteningtothatyoungfool,Quimper,”hesaid.“Thesezealousyoungdoctors!Alwaysgettingideasintheirheads.GotitintohisheadthatsomebodywastryingtopoisonLutherCrackenthorpe.Nonsense!Melodrama!Ofcourse,hehadgastricattacks.Itreatedhimforthem.Didn’thappenveryoften—nothingpeculiaraboutthem.”
“Dr.Quimper,”saidCraddock,“seemedtothinktherewas.”
“Doesn’tdoforadoctortogothinking.Afterall,IshouldhopeIcouldrecognizearsenicalpoisoningwhenIsawit.”
“Quitealotofwell-knowndoctorshaven’tnoticedit,”Craddockpointedout.“Therewas”—hedrewuponhismemory—“theGreenbarrowcase,Mrs.Teney,CharlesLeeds,threepeopleintheWestburyfamily,allburiednicelyandtidilywithoutthedoctorswhoattendedthemhavingtheleastsuspicion.Thosedoctorswereallgood,reputablemen.”
“Allright,allright,”saidDoctorMorris,“you’resayingthatIcouldhavemadeamistake.Well,Idon’tthinkIdid.”Hepausedaminuteandthensaid,“WhodidQuimperthinkwasdoingit—ifitwasbeingdone?”
“Hedidn’tknow,”saidCraddock.“Hewasworried.Afterall,youknow,”headded,“there’sagreatdealofmoneythere.”
“Yes,yes,Iknow,whichthey’llgetwhenLutherCrackenthorpedies.Andtheywantitprettybadly.Thatistrueenough,butitdoesn’tfollowthatthey’dkilltheoldmantogetit.”
“Notnecessarily,”agreedInspectorCraddock.
“Anyway,”saidDr.Morris,“myprincipleisnottogoaboutsuspectingthingswithoutduecause.Duecause,”herepeated.“I’lladmitthatwhatyou’vejusttoldmehasshakenmeupabit.Arseniconabigscale,apparently—butIstilldon’tseewhyyoucometome.AllIcantellyouisthatIdidn’tsuspectit.MaybeIshouldhave.MaybeIshouldhavetakenthosegastricattacksofLutherCrackenthorpe’smuchmoreseriously.Butyou’vegotalongwaybeyondthatnow.”
Craddockagreed.“WhatIreallyneed,”hesaid,“istoknowalittlemoreabouttheCrackenthorpefamily.Isthereanyqueermentalstraininthem—akinkofanykind?”
Theeyesunderthebushyeyebrowslookedathimsharply.“Yes,Icanseeyourthoughtsmightrunthatway.Well,oldJosiahwassaneenough.Hardasnails,verymuchallthere.Hiswifewasneurotic,hadatendencytomelancholia.Cameofaninbredfamily.Shediedsoonafterhersecondsonwasborn.I’dsay,youknow,thatLutherinheritedacertain—well,instability,fromher.Hewascommonplaceenoughasayoungman,buthewasalwaysatloggerheadswithhisfather.HisfatherwasdisappointedinhimandIthinkheresentedthatandbroodedonit,andintheendgotakindofobsessionaboutit.Hecarriedthatonintohismarriedlife.You’llnotice,ifyoutalktohimatall,thathe’sgotaheartydislikeforallhisownsons.Hisdaughtershewasfondof.BothEmmaandEdie—theonewhodied.”
“Whydoeshedislikethesonssomuch?”askedCraddock.
“You’llhavetogotooneofthesenew-fashionedpsychiatriststofindthatout.I’djustsaythatLutherhasneverfeltveryadequateasamanhimself,andthathebitterlyresentshisfinancialposition.Hehaspossessionofanincomebutnopowerofappointmentofcapital.Ifhehadthepowertodisinherithissonsheprobablywouldn’tdislikethemasmuch.Beingpowerlessinthatrespectgiveshimafeelingofhumiliation.”
“That’swhyhe’ssopleasedattheideaofoutlivingthemall?”saidInspectorCraddock.
“Possibly.Itistheroot,too,ofhisparsimony,Ithink.Ishouldsaythathe’smanagedtosaveaconsiderablesumoutofhislargeincome—mostly,ofcourse,beforetaxationrosetoitspresentgiddyheights.”
AnewideastruckInspectorCraddock.“Isupposehe’slefthissavingsbywilltosomeone?Thathecando.”
“Oh,yes,thoughGodknowswhohehasleftitto.MaybetoEmma,butIshouldratherdoubtit.She’llgethershareoftheoldman’sproperty.MaybetoAlexander,thegrandson.”
“He’sfondofhim,ishe?”saidCraddock.
“Usedtobe.Ofcoursehewashisdaughter’schild,notason’schild.Thatmayhavemadeadifference.AndhehadquiteanaffectionforBryanEastley,Edie’shusband.OfcourseIdon’tknowBryanwell,it’ssomeyearssinceI’veseenanyofthefamily.Butitstruckmethathewasgoingtobeverymuchatalooseendafterthewar.He’sgotthosequalitiesthatyouneedinwartime;courage,dash,andatendencytoletthefuturetakecareofitself.ButIdon’tthinkhe’sgotanystability.He’llprobablyturnintoadrifter.”
“Asfarasyouknowthere’snopeculiarkinkinanyoftheyoungergeneration?”
“Cedric’saneccentrictype,oneofthosenaturalrebels.Iwouldn’tsayhewasperfectlynormal,butyoumightsay,whois?Harold’sfairlyorthodox,notwhatIcallaverypleasantcharacter,coldhearted,eyetothemainchance.Alfred’sgotatouchofthedelinquentabouthim.He’sawrong’un,alwayswas.Sawhimtakingmoneyoutofamissionaryboxoncethattheyusedtokeepinthehall.Thattypeofthing.Ah,well,thepoorfellow’sdead,IsupposeIshouldn’tbetalkingagainsthim.”
“Whatabout…”Craddockhesitated.“EmmaCrackenthorpe?”
“Nicegirl,quiet,onedoesn’talwaysknowwhatshe’sthinking.Hasherownplansandherownideas,butshekeepsthemtoherself.She’smorecharacterthanyoumightthinkfromhergeneralappearance.”
“YouknewEdmund,Isuppose,thesonwhowaskilledinFrance?”
“Yes.HewasthebestofthebunchI’dsay.Goodhearted,gay,aniceboy.”
“Didyoueverhearthathewasgoingtomarry,orhadmarried,aFrenchgirljustbeforehewaskilled?”
Dr.Morrisfrowned.“ItseemsasthoughIremembersomethingaboutit,”hesaid,“butit’salongtimeago.”
“Quiteearlyoninthewar,wasn’tit?”
“Yes.Ah,well,Idaresayhe’dhavelivedtoregretitifhehadmarriedaforeignwife.”
“There’ssomereasontobelievethathediddojustthat,”saidCraddock.
Inafewbriefsentenceshegaveanaccountofrecenthappenings.
“Irememberseeingsomethinginthepapersaboutawomanfoundinasarcophagus.SoitwasatRutherfordHall.”
“Andthere’sreasontobelievethatthewomanwasEdmundCrackenthorpe’swidow.”
“Well,well,thatseemsextraordinary.Morelikeanovelthanreallife.Butwho’dwanttokillthepoorthing—Imean,howdoesittieupwitharsenicalpoisoningintheCrackenthorpefamily?”
“Inoneoftwoways,”saidCraddock;“buttheyarebothveryfarfetched.SomebodyperhapsisgreedyandwantsthewholeofJosiahCrackenthorpe’sfortune.”
“Damnfoolifhedoes,”saidDr.Morris.“He’llonlyhavetopaythemoststupendoustaxesontheincomefromit.”
Twenty-one
“Nastythings,mushrooms,”saidMrs.Kidder.
Mrs.Kidderhadmadethesameremarkabouttentimesinthelastfewdays.Lucydidnotreply.
“Nevertouch’emmyself,”saidMrs.Kidder,“muchtoodangerous.It’samercifulProvidenceasthere’sonlybeenonedeath.Thewholelotmighthavegone,andyou,too,miss.Awonderfulescape,you’vehad.”
“Itwasn’tthemushrooms,”saidLucy.“Theywereperfectlyallright.”
“Don’tyoubelieveit,”saidMrs.Kidder.“Dangeroustheyare,mushrooms.Onetoadstoolinamongthelotandyou’vehadit.”
“Funny,”wentonMrs.Kidder,amongtherattleofplatesanddishesinthesink,“howthingsseemtocomealltogether,asitwere.Mysister’seldesthadmeaslesandourErniefelldownandbroke’isarm,andmy’usbandcameoutalloverwithboils.Allinthesameweek!You’dhardlybelieveit,wouldyou?It’sbeenthesamethinghere,”wentonMrs.Kidder,“firstthatnastymurderandnowMr.Alfreddeadwithmushroom-poisoning.Who’llbethenext,I’dliketoknow?”
Lucyfeltratheruncomfortablythatshewouldliketoknowtoo.
“Myhusband,hedoesn’tlikemecomingherenow,”saidMrs.Kidder,“thinksit’sunlucky,butwhatIsayisI’veknownMissCrackenthorpealongtimenowandshe’saniceladyandshedependsonme.AndIcouldn’tleavepoorMissEyelesbarrow,Isaid,nottodoeverythingherselfinthehouse.Prettyharditisonyou,miss,allthesetrays.”
Lucywasforcedtoagreethatlifedidseemtoconsistverylargelyoftraysatthemoment.Shewasatthemomentarrangingtraystotaketothevariousinvalids.
“Asforthemnurses,theyneverdoahand’sturn,”saidMrs.Kidder.“Alltheywantispotsandpotsofteamadestrong.Andmealsprepared.Woreout,that’swhatIam.”Shespokeinatoneofgreatsatisfaction,thoughactuallyshehaddoneverylittlemorethanhernormalmorning’swork.
Lucysaidsolemnly,“Youneverspareyourself,Mrs.Kidder.”
Mrs.Kidderlookedpleased.Lucypickedupthefirstofthetraysandstartedoffupthestairs.
“What’sthis?”saidMr.Crackenthorpedisapprovingly.
“Beefteaandbakedcustard,”saidLucy.
“Takeitaway,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“Iwon’ttouchthatstuff.ItoldthatnurseIwantedabeefsteak.”
“Dr.Quimperthinksyououghtnottohavebeefsteakjustyet,”saidLucy.
Mr.Crackenthorpesnorted.“I’mpracticallywellagain.I’mgettinguptomorrow.Howaretheothers?”
“Mr.Harold’smuchbetter,”saidLucy.“He’sgoingbacktoLondontomorrow.”
“Goodriddance,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“WhataboutCedric—anyhopethathe’sgoingbacktohisislandtomorrow?”
“Hewon’tbegoingjustyet.”
“Pity.What’sEmmadoing?Whydoesn’tshecomeandseeme?”
“She’sstillinbed,Mr.Crackenthorpe.”
“Womenalwayscoddlethemselves,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“Butyou’reagoodstronggirl,”headdedapprovingly.“Runaboutallday,don’tyou?”
“Igetplentyofexercise,”saidLucy
OldMr.Crackenthorpenoddedhisheadapprovingly.“You’reagoodstronggirl,”hesaid,“anddon’tthinkI’veforgottenwhatItalkedtoyouaboutbefore.Oneofthesedaysyou’llseewhatyou’llsee.Emmaisn’talwaysgoingtohavethingsherownway.Anddon’tlistentotheotherswhentheytellyouI’mameanoldman.I’mcarefulofmymoney.I’vegotanicelittlepacketputbyandIknowwhoI’mgoingtospenditonwhenthetimecomes.”Heleeredatheraffectionately.
Lucywentratherquicklyoutoftheroom,avoidinghisclutchinghand.
ThenexttraywastakenintoEmma.
“Oh,thankyou,Lucy.I’mreallyfeelingquitemyselfagainbynow.I’mhungry,andthat’sagoodsign,isn’tit?Mydear,”wentonEmmaasLucysettledthetrayonherknees,“I’mreallyfeelingveryupsetaboutyouraunt.Youhaven’thadanytimetogoandseeher,Isuppose?”
“No,Ihaven’t,asamatteroffact.”
“I’mafraidshemustbemissingyou.”
“Oh,don’tworry,MissCrackenthorpe.Sheunderstandswhataterribletimewe’vebeenthrough.”
“Haveyourungherup?”
“No,Ihaven’tjustlately.”
“Well,do.Ringherupeveryday.Itmakessuchadifferencetooldpeopletogetnews.”
“You’reverykind,”saidLucy.Herconsciencesmoteheralittleasshewentdowntofetchthenexttray.Thecomplicationsofillnessinahousehadkeptherthoroughlyabsorbedandshehadhadnotimetothinkofanythingelse.ShedecidedthatshewouldringMissMarpleupassoonasshehadtakenCedrichismeal.
TherewasonlyonenurseinthehousenowandshepassedLucyonthelanding,exchanginggreetings.
Cedric,lookingincrediblytidiedupandneat,wassittingupinbedwritingbusilyonsheetsofpaper.
“Hallo,Lucy,”hesaid,“whathellbrewhaveyougotformetoday?Iwishyou’dgetridofthatgod-awfulnurse,she’ssimplytooarchforwords.Callsme‘we’forsomereason.‘Andhowarewethismorning?Havewesleptwell?Oh,dear,we’reverynaughty,throwingoffthebedclotheslikethat.’”Heimitatedtherefinedaccentsofthenurseinahighfalsettovoice.
“Youseemverycheerful,”saidLucy.“Whatareyoubusywith?”
“Plans,”saidCedric.“Plansforwhattodowiththisplacewhentheoldmanpopsoff.It’sajollygoodbitoflandhere,youknow.Ican’tmakeupmymindwhetherI’dliketodevelopsomeofitmyself,orwhetherI’llsellitinlotsallinonego.Veryvaluableforindustrialpurposes.Thehousewilldoforanursinghomeoraschool.I’mnotsureIshan’tsellhalfthelandandusethemoneytodosomethingratheroutrageouswiththeotherhalf.Whatdoyouthink?”
“Youhaven’tgotityet,”saidLucy,dryly.
“Ishallhaveit,though,”saidCedric.“It’snotdividedupliketheotherstuff.Igetitoutright.AndifIsellitforagoodfatpricethemoneywillbecapital,notincome,soIshan’thavetopaytaxesonit.Moneytoburn.Thinkofit.”
“Ialwaysunderstoodyouratherdespisedmoney,”saidLucy.
“OfcourseIdespisemoneywhenIhaven’tgotany,”saidCedric.“It’stheonlydignifiedthingtodo.Whatalovelygirlyouare,Lucy,ordoIjustthinksobecauseIhaven’tseenanygood-lookingwomenforsuchalongtime?”
“Iexpectthat’sit,”saidLucy.
“Stillbusytidyingeveryoneandeverythingup?”
“Somebodyseemstohavebeentidyingyouup,”saidLucy,lookingathim.
“That’sthatdamnednurse,”saidCedricwithfeeling.“HaveyouhadtheinquestonAlfredyet?Whathappened?”
“Itwasadjourned,”saidLucy.
“Policebeingcagey.Thismasspoisoningdoesgiveoneabitofaturn,doesn’tit?Mentally,Imean.I’mnotreferringtomoreobviousaspects.”Headded:“Betterlookafteryourself,mygirl.”
“Ido,”saidLucy.
“HasyoungAlexandergonebacktoschoolyet?”
“Ithinkhe’sstillwiththeStoddart-Wests.Ithinkit’sthedayaftertomorrowthatschoolbegins.”
BeforegettingherownlunchLucywenttothetelephoneandrangupMissMarple.
“I’msoterriblysorryIhaven’tbeenabletocomeover,butI’vebeenreallyverybusy.”
“Ofcourse,mydear,ofcourse.Besides,there’snothingthatcanbedonejustnow.Wejusthavetowait.”
“Yes,butwhatarewewaitingfor?”
“ElspethMcGillicuddyoughttobehomeverysoonnow,”saidMissMarple.“Iwrotetohertoflyhomeatonce.Isaiditwasherduty.Sodon’tworrytoomuch,mydear.”Hervoicewaskindlyandreassuring.
“Youdon’tthink…”Lucybegan,butstopped.
“Thattherewillbeanymoredeaths?Oh,Ihopenot,mydear.Butoneneverknows,doesone?Whenanyoneisreallywicked,Imean.AndIthinkthereisgreatwickednesshere.”
“Ormadness,”saidLucy.
“OfcourseIknowthatisthemodernwayoflookingatthings.Idon’tagreemyself.”
Lucyrangoff,wentintothekitchenandpickeduphertrayoflunch.Mrs.Kidderhaddivestedherselfofherapronandwasabouttoleave.
“You’llbeallright,miss,Ihope?”sheaskedsolicitously.
“OfcourseIshallbeallright,”snappedLucy.
Shetookhertraynotintothebig,gloomydiningroombutintothesmallstudy.ShewasjustfinishinghermealwhenthedooropenedandBryanEastleycamein.
“Hallo,”saidLucy,“thisisveryunexpected.”
“Isupposeitis,”saidBryan.“Howiseverybody?”
“Oh,muchbetter.Harold’sgoingbacktoLondontomorrow.”
“Whatdoyouthinkaboutitall?Wasitreallyarsenic?”
“Itwasarsenicallright,”saidLucy
“Ithasn’tbeeninthepapersyet.”
“No,Ithinkthepolicearekeepingituptheirsleevesforthemoment.”
“Somebodymusthaveaprettygooddownonthefamily,”saidBryan.“Who’slikelytohavesneakedinandtamperedwiththefood?”
“IsupposeI’mthemostlikelypersonreally,”saidLucy.
Bryanlookedatheranxiously.“Butyoudidn’t,didyou?”heasked.Hesoundedslightlyshocked.
“No.Ididn’t,”saidLucy.
Nobodycouldhavetamperedwiththecurry.Shehadmadeit—aloneinthekitchen,andbroughtittotable,andtheonlypersonwhocouldhavetamperedwithitwasoneofthefivepeoplewhosatdowntothemeal.
“Imean—whyshouldyou?”saidBryan.“They’renothingtoyou,arethey?Isay,”headded,“Ihopeyoudon’tmindmycomingbackherelikethis?”
“No,no,ofcourseIdon’t.Haveyoucometostay?”
“Well,I’dliketo,ifitwouldn’tbeanawfulboretoyou.”
“No.No,wecanmanage.”
“Yousee,I’moutofajobatthemomentandI—well,Igetratherfedup.Areyoureallysureyoudon’tmind?”
“Oh,I’mnotthepersontomind,anyway.It’sEmma.”
“Oh,Emma’sallright,”saidBryan.“Emma’salwaysbeenverynicetome.Inherownway,youknow.Shekeepsthingstoherselfalot,infact,she’sratheradarkhorse,oldEmma.Thislivinghereandlookingaftertheoldmanwouldgetmostpeopledown.Pityshenevermarried.Toolatenow,Isuppose.”
“Idon’tthinkit’stoolate,atall,”saidLucy.
“Well…”Bryanconsidered.“Aclergymanperhaps,”hesaidhopefully.“She’dbeusefulintheparishandtactfulwiththeMothers’Union.IdomeantheMothers’Union,don’tI?NotthatIknowwhatitreallyis,butyoucomeacrossitsometimesinbooks.Andshe’dwearahatinchurchonSundays,”headded.
“Doesn’tsoundmuchofaprospecttome,”saidLucy,risingandpickingupthetray.
“I’lldothat,”saidBryan,takingthetrayfromher.Theywentintothekitchentogether.“ShallIhelpyouwashup?Idolikethiskitchen,”headded.“Infact,Iknowitisn’tthesortofthingthatpeopledolikenowadays,butIlikethiswholehouse.Shockingtaste,Isuppose,butthereitis.Youcouldlandaplanequiteeasilyinthepark,”headdedwithenthusiasm.
Hepickedupaglass-clothandbegantowipethespoonsandforks.
“Seemsawaste,itscomingtoCedric,”heremarked.“Firstthinghe’lldoistosellthewholethingandgobreakingoffabroadagain.Can’tsee,myself,whyEnglandisn’tgoodenoughforanybody.Haroldwouldn’twantthishouseeither,andofcourseit’smuchtoobigforEmma.Now,ifonlyitcametoAlexander,heandIwouldbeashappytogetherhereasacoupleofsandboys.Ofcourseitwouldbenicetohaveawomanaboutthehouse.”HelookedthoughtfullyatLucy.“Oh,well,what’sthegoodoftalking?IfAlexanderweretogetthisplaceitwouldmeanthewholelotofthemwouldhavetodiefirst,andthat’snotreallylikely,isit?ThoughfromwhatI’veseenoftheoldboyhemighteasilylivetobeahundred,justtoannoythemall.Idon’tsupposehewasmuchcutupbyAlfred’sdeath,washe?”
Lucysaidshortly,“No,hewasn’t.”
“Cantankerousolddevil,”saidBryanEastleycheerfully.
Twenty-two
“Dreadful,thethingspeoplegoaboutsaying,”saidMrs.Kidder.“Idon’tlisten,mindyou,morethanIcanhelp.Butyou’dhardlybelieveit.”Shewaitedhopefully.
“Yes,Isupposeso,”saidLucy.
“AboutthatbodythatwasfoundintheLongBarn,”wentonMrs.Kidder,movingcrablikebackwardsonherhandsandknees,asshescrubbedthekitchenfloor,“sayingashowshe’dbeenMr.Edmund’sfancypieceduringthewar,andhowshecomeoverhereandajealoushusbandfollowedher,anddidherin.Itisalikelythingasaforeignerwoulddo,butitwouldn’tbelikelyafteralltheseyears,wouldit?”
“Itsoundsmostunlikelytome.”
“Butthere’sworsethingsthanthat,theysay,”saidMrs.Kidder.“Sayanything,peoplewill.You’dbesurprised.There’sthosethatsayMr.Haroldmarriedsomewhereabroadandthatshecomeoverandfoundoutthathe’scommittedbigamywiththatladyAlice,andthatshewasgoingtobring’imtocourtandthathemetherdownhereanddidherin,andhidherbodyinthesarcoffus.Didyouever!”
“Shocking,”saidLucyvaguely,hermindelsewhere.
“OfcourseIdidn’tlisten,”saidMrs.Kiddervirtuously,“Iwouldn’tputnostockinsuchtalesmyself.Itbeatsmehowpeoplethinkupsuchthings,letalonesaythem.AllIhopeisnoneofitgetstoMissEmma’sears.ItmightupsetherandIwouldn’tlikethat.She’saverynicelady,MissEmmais,andI’venotheardawordagainsther,notaword.AndofcourseMr.Alfredbeingdeadnobodysaysanythingagainsthimnow.Noteventhatit’sajudgment,whichtheywellmightdo.Butit’sawful,miss,isn’tit,thewickedtalkthereis.”
Mrs.Kidderspokewithimmenseenjoyment.
“Itmustbequitepainfulforyoutolistentoit,”saidLucy.
“Oh,itis,”saidMrs.Kidder.“Itisindeed.Isaystomyhusband,Isays,howevercanthey?”
Thebellrang.
“There’sthedoctor,miss.Willyoulet’imin,orshallI?”
“I’llgo,”saidLucy.
Butitwasnotthedoctor.Onthedoorstepstoodatall,elegantwomaninaminkcoat.DrawnuptothegravelsweepwasapurringRollswithachauffeuratthewheel.
“CanIseeMissEmmaCrackenthorpe,please?”
Itwasanattractivevoice,theR’sslightlyblurred.Thewomanwasattractivetoo.Aboutthirty-five,withdarkhairandexpensivelyandbeautifullymadeup.
“I’msorry,”saidLucy,“MissCrackenthorpeisillinbedandcan’tseeanyone.”
“Iknowshehasbeenill,yes;butitisveryimportantthatIshouldseeher.”
“I’mafraid,”Lucybegan.
Thevisitorinterruptedher.“IthinkyouareMissEyelesbarrow,areyounot?”Shesmiled,anattractivesmile.“Mysonhasspokenofyou,soIknow.IamLadyStoddart-WestandAlexanderisstayingwithmenow.”
“Oh,Isee,”saidLucy.
“AnditisreallyimportantthatIshouldseeMissCrackenthorpe,”continuedtheother.“IknowallaboutherillnessandIassureyouthisisnotjustasocialcall.Itisbecauseofsomethingthattheboyshavesaidtome—thatmysonhassaidtome.Itis,Ithink,amatterofgraveimportanceandIwouldliketospeaktoMissCrackenthorpeaboutit.Please,willyouaskher?”
“Comein.”Lucyusheredhervisitorintothehallandintothedrawingroom.Thenshesaid,“I’llgoupandaskMissCrackenthorpe.”
Shewentupstairs,knockedonEmma’sdoorandentered.
“LadyStoddart-Westishere,”shesaid.“Shewantstoseeyouveryparticularly.”
“LadyStoddart-West?”Emmalookedsurprised.Alookofalarmcameintoherface.“There’snothingwrong,isthere,withtheboys—withAlexander?”
“No,no,”Lucyreassuredher.“I’msuretheboysareallright.Itseemedtobesomethingtheboyshavetoldherorsaidtoher.”
“Oh.Well…”Emmahesitated.“PerhapsIoughttoseeher.DoIlookallright,Lucy?”
“Youlookverynice,”saidLucy.
Emmawassittingupinbed,asoftpinkshawlwasroundhershouldersandbroughtoutthefaintrose-pinkofhercheeks.HerdarkhairhadbeenneatlybrushedandcombedbyNurse.Lucyhadplacedabowlofautumnleavesonthedressingtablethedaybefore.Herroomlookedattractiveandquiteunlikeasickroom.
“I’mreallyquitewellenoughtogetup,”saidEmma.“Dr.QuimpersaidIcouldtomorrow.”
“Youlookreallyquitelikeyourselfagain,”saidLucy.“ShallIbringLadyStoddart-Westup?”
“Yes,do.”
Lucywentdownstairsagain.“WillyoucomeuptoMissCrackenthorpe’sroom?”
Sheescortedthevisitorupstairs,openedthedoorforhertopassinandthenshutit.LadyStoddart-Westapproachedthebedwithoutstretchedhand.
“MissCrackenthorpe?Ireallydoapologizeforbreakinginonyoulikethis.Ihaveseenyou,Ithink,atthesportsattheschool.”
“Yes,”saidEmma,“Irememberyouquitewell.Dositdown.”
InthechairconvenientlyplacedbythebedLadyStoddart-Westsatdown.Shesaidinaquietlowvoice:
“Youmustthinkitverystrangeofmecomingherelikethis,butIhavereason.Ithinkitisanimportantreason.Yousee,theboyshavebeentellingmethings.Youcanunderstandthattheywereveryexcitedaboutthemurderthathappenedhere.IconfessIdidnotlikeitatthetime.Iwasnervous.IwantedtobringJameshomeatonce.Butmyhusbandlaughed.Hesaidthatobviouslyitwasamurderthathadnothingtodowiththehouseandthefamily,andhesaidthatfromwhatherememberedfromhisboyhood,andfromJames’sletters,bothheandAlexanderwereenjoyingthemselvessowildlythatitwouldbesheercrueltytobringthemback.SoIgaveinandagreedthattheyshouldstayonuntilthetimearrangedforJamestobringAlexanderbackwithhim.”
Emmasaid:“Youthinkweoughttohavesentyoursonhomeearlier?”
“No,no,thatisnotwhatImeanatall.Oh,itisdifficultforme,this!ButwhatIhavetosaymustbesaid.Yousee,theyhavepickedupagooddeal,theboys.Theytoldmethatthiswoman—themurderedwoman—thatthepolicehaveanideathatshemaybeaFrenchgirlwhomyoureldestbrother—whowaskilledinthewar—knewinFrance.Thatisso?”
“Itisapossibility,”saidEmma,hervoicebreakingslightly,“thatweareforcedtoconsider.Itmayhavebeenso.”
“Thereissomereasonforbelievingthatthebodyisthatofthisgirl,thisMartine?”
“Ihavetoldyou,itisapossibility.”
“Butwhy—whyshouldtheythinkthatshewasMartine?Didshehavelettersonher—papers?”
“No.Nothingofthatkind.Butyousee,Ihadhadaletter,fromthisMartine.”
“Youhadhadaletter—fromMartine?”
“Yes.AlettertellingmeshewasinEnglandandwouldliketocomeandseeme.Iinvitedherdownhere,butgotatelegramsayingshewasgoingbacktoFrance.PerhapsshedidgobacktoFrance.Wedonotknow.Butsincethenanenvelopewasfoundhereaddressedtoher.Thatseemstoshowthatshehadcomedownhere.ButIreallydon’tsee…”Shebrokeoff.
LadyStoddart-Westbrokeinquickly:
“Youreallydonotseewhatconcernitisofmine?Thatisverytrue.Ishouldnotinyourplace.ButwhenIheardthis—orrather,agarbledaccountofthis—Ihadtocometomakesureitwasreallysobecause,ifitis—”
“Yes?”saidEmma.
“ThenImusttellyousomethingthatIhadneverintendedtotellyou.Yousee,IamMartineDubois.”
Emmastaredatherguestasthoughshecouldhardlytakeinthesenseofherwords.
“You!”shesaid.“YouareMartine?”
Theothernoddedvigorously.“But,yes.Itsurprisesyou,Iamsure,butitistrue.ImetyourbrotherEdmundinthefirstdaysofthewar.Hewasindeedbilletedatourhouse.Well,youknowtherest.Wefellinlove.Weintendedtobemarried,andthentherewastheretreattoDunkirk,Edmundwasreportedmissing.Laterhewasreportedkilled.Iwillnotspeaktoyouofthattime.Itwaslongagoanditisover.ButIwillsaytoyouthatIlovedyourbrotherverymuch….
“Thencamethegrimrealitiesofwar.TheGermansoccupiedFrance.IbecameaworkerfortheResistance.IwasoneofthosewhowasassignedtopassEnglishmenthroughFrancetoEngland.ItwasinthatwaythatImetmypresenthusband.HewasanAirForceofficer,parachutedintoFrancetodospecialwork.Whenthewarendedweweremarried.IconsideredonceortwicewhetherIshouldwritetoyouorcomeandseeyou,butIdecidedagainstit.Itcoulddonogood,Ithought,totakeupoldmemories.IhadanewlifeandIhadnowishtorecalltheold.”Shepausedandthensaid:“Butitgaveme,Iwilltellyou,astrangepleasurewhenIfoundthatmysonJames’sgreatestfriendathisschoolwasaboywhomIfoundtobeEdmund’snephew.Alexander,Imaysay,isverylikeEdmund,asIdaresayyouyourselfappreciate.ItseemedtomeaveryhappystateofaffairsthatJamesandAlexandershouldbesuchfriends.”
SheleanedforwardandplacedherhandonEmma’sarm.“Butyousee,dearEmma,doyounot,thatwhenIheardthisstoryaboutthemurder,aboutthisdeadwomanbeingsuspectedtobetheMartinethatEdmundhadknown,thatIhadtocomeandtellyouthetruth.EitheryouorImustinformthepoliceofthefact.Whoeverthedeadwomanis,sheisnot
“Icanhardlytakeitin,”saidEmma,“thatyou,youshouldbetheMartinethatdearEdmundwrotetomeabout.”Shesighed,shakingherhead,thenshefrownedperplexedly.“ButIdon’tunderstand.Wasityou,then,whowrotetome?”
LadyStoddart-Westshookavigoroushead.“No,no,ofcourseIdidnotwritetoyou.”
“Then…”Emmastopped.
“ThentherewassomeonepretendingtobeMartinewhowantedperhapstogetmoneyoutofyou?Thatiswhatitmusthavebeen.Butwhocanitbe?”
Emmasaidslowly:“Isupposetherewerepeopleatthetime,whoknew?”
Theothershruggedhershoulders.“Probably,yes.Buttherewasnooneintimatewithme,nooneveryclosetome.IhaveneverspokenofitsinceIcametoEngland.Andwhywaitallthistime?Itiscurious,verycurious.”
Emmasaid:“Idon’tunderstandit.WewillhavetoseewhatInspectorCraddockhastosay.”Shelookedwithsuddenlysoftenedeyesathervisitor.“I’msogladtoknowyouatlast,mydear.”
“AndIyou…Edmundspokeofyouveryoften.Hewasveryfondofyou.Iamhappyinmynewlife,butallthesame,Idon’tquiteforget.”
Emmaleanedbackandheavedasigh.“It’saterriblerelief,”shesaid.“AslongaswefearedthatthedeadwomanmightbeMartine—itseemedtobetiedupwiththefamily.Butnow—oh,it’sanabsoluteloadoffmyback.Idon’tknowwhothepoorsoulwasbutshecan’thavehadanythingtodowithus!”
Twenty-three
ThestreamlinedsecretarybroughtHaroldCrackenthorpehisusualafternooncupoftea.
“Thanks,MissEllis,Ishallbegoinghomeearlytoday.”
“I’msureyououghtreallynottohavecomeatall,Mr.Crackenthorpe,”saidMissEllis.“Youlookquitepulleddownstill.”
“I’mallright,”saidHaroldCrackenthorpe,buthedidfeelpulleddown.Nodoubtaboutit,he’dhadaverynastyturn.Ah,well,thatwasover.
Extraordinary,hethoughtbroodingly,thatAlfredshouldhavesuccumbedandtheoldmanshouldhavecomethrough.Afterall,whatwashe—seventy-three—seventy-four?Beenaninvalidforyears.Iftherewasonepersonyou’dhavethoughtwouldhavebeentakenoff,itwouldhavebeentheoldman.Butno.IthadtobeAlfred.Alfredwho,asfarasHaroldknew,wasahealthywirysortofchap.Nothingmuchthematterwithhim.
Heleanedbackinhischairsighing.Thatgirlwasright.Hedidn’tfeeluptothingsyet,buthehadwantedtocomedowntotheoffice.Wantedtogetthehangofhowaffairsweregoing.Touchandgo.Allthis—helookedroundhim—therichlyappointedoffice,thepalegleamingwood,theexpensivemodernchairs,italllookedprosperousenough,andagoodthingtoo!That’swhereAlfredhadalwaysgonewrong.Ifyoulookedprosperous,peoplethoughtyouwereprosperous.Therewerenorumoursgoingaroundasyetabouthisfinancialstability.Allthesame,thecrashcouldn’tbedelayedverylong.Now,ifonlyhisfatherhadpassedoutinsteadofAlfred,assurely,surelyheoughttohavedone.Practicallyseemedtothriveonarsenic!Yes,ifhisfatherhadsuccumbed—well,therewouldn’thavebeenanythingtoworryabout.
Still,thegreatthingwasnottoseemworried.Aprosperousappearance.NotlikepooroldAlfredwhoalwayslookedseedyandshiftless,wholookedinfactexactlywhathewas.Oneofthosesmall-timespeculators,nevergoingalloutboldlyforthebigmoney.Inwithashadycrowdhere,doingadoubtfuldealthere,neverquiterenderinghimselfliabletoprosecutionbutgoingveryneartheedge.Andwherehaditgothim?Shortperiodsofaffluenceandthenbacktoseedinessandshabbiness,oncemore.NobroadoutlookaboutAlfred.Takenallinall,youcouldn’tsayAlfredwasmuchloss.He’dneverbeenparticularlyfondofAlfredandwithAlfredoutofthewaythemoneythatwascomingtohimfromthatoldcurmudgeon,hisgrandfather,wouldbesensiblyincreased,dividednotintofivesharesbutintofourshares.Verymuchbetter.
Harold’sfacebrightenedalittle.Herose,tookhishatandcoatandlefttheoffice.Bettertakeiteasyforadayortwo.Hewasn’tfeelingtoostrongyet.HiscarwaswaitingbelowandverysoonhewasweavingthroughLondontraffictohishouse.
Darwin,hismanservant,openedthedoor
“Herladyshiphasjustarrived,sir,”hesaid.
ForamomentHaroldstaredathim.Alice!Goodheavens,wasittodaythatAlicewascominghome?He’dforgottenallaboutit.GoodthingDarwinhadwarnedhim.Itwouldn’thavelookedsogoodifhe’dgoneupstairsandlookedtooastonishedatseeingher.Notthatitreallymattered,hesupposed.NeitherAlicenorhehadanyillusionsaboutthefeelingtheyhadforeachother.PerhapsAlicewasfondofhim—hedidn’tknow.
Allinall,Alicewasagreatdisappointmenttohim.Hehadn’tbeeninlovewithher,ofcourse,butthoughaplainwomanshewasquiteapleasantone.Andherfamilyandconnectionshadundoubtedlybeenuseful.Notperhapsasusefulastheymighthavebeen,becauseinmarryingAlicehehadbeenconsideringthepositionofhypotheticalchildren.Nicerelationsforhisboystohave.Buttherehadn’tbeenanyboys,orgirlseither,andallthathadremainedhadbeenheandAlicegrowingoldertogetherwithoutmuchtosaytoeachotherandwithnoparticularpleasureineachother’scompany.
ShestayedawayagooddealwithrelationsandusuallywenttotheRivierainthewinter.Itsuitedheranditdidn’tworryhim.
Hewentupstairsnowintothedrawingroomandgreetedherpunctiliously.
“Soyou’reback,mydear.SorryIcouldn’tmeetyou,butIwasheldupintheCity.IgotbackasearlyasIcould.HowwasSanRaphael?”
AlicetoldhimhowSanRaphaelwas.Shewasathinwomanwithsandy-colouredhair,awell-archednoseandvague,hazeleyes.Shetalkedinawell-bred,monotonousandratherdepressingvoice.Ithadbeenagoodjourneyback,theChannelalittlerough.TheCustoms,asusual,verytryingatDover.
“Youshouldcomebyair,”saidHarold,ashealwaysdid.“Somuchsimpler.”
“Idaresay,butIdon’treallylikeairtravel.Ineverhave.Makesmenervous.”
“Savesalotoftime,”saidHarold.
LadyAliceCrackenthorpedidnotanswer.Itwaspossiblethatherprobleminlifewasnottosavetimebuttooccupyit.Sheinquiredpolitelyafterherhusband’shealth.
“Emma’stelegramquitealarmedme,”shesaid.“Youwerealltakenill,Iunderstand.”
“Yes,yes,”saidHarold.
“Ireadinthepapertheotherday,”saidAlice,“offortypeopleinahotelgoingdownwithfoodpoisoningatthesametime.Allthisrefrigerationisdangerous,Ithink.Peoplekeepthingstoolonginthem.”
“Possibly,”saidHarold.Shouldhe,orshouldhenotmentionarsenic?Somehow,lookingatAlice,hefelthimselfquiteunabletodoso.InAlice’sworld,hefelt,therewasnoplaceforpoisoningbyarsenic.Itwasathingyoureadaboutinthepapers.Itdidn’thappentoyouoryourownfamily.ButithadhappenedintheCrackenthorpefamily….
Hewentuptohisroomandlaydownforanhourortwobeforedressingfordinner.Atdinner,tête-à-têtewithhiswife,theconversationranonmuchthesamelines.Desultory,polite.ThementionofacquaintancesandfriendsatSanRaphael.
“There’saparcelforyouonthehalltable,asmallone,”Alicesaid.
“Isthere?Ididn’tnoticeit.”
“It’sanextraordinarythingbutsomebodywastellingmeaboutamurderedwomanhavingbeenfoundinabarn,orsomethinglikethat.ShesaiditwasatRutherfordHall.IsupposeitmustbesomeotherRutherfordHall.”
“No,”saidHarold,“no,itisn’t.Itwasinourbarn,asamatteroffact.”
“Really,Harold!AmurderedwomaninthebarnatRutherfordHall—andyounevertoldmeanythingaboutit.”
“Well,therehasn’tbeenmuchtime,really,”saidHarold,“anditwasallratherunpleasant.Nothingtodowithus,ofcourse.ThePressmilledaroundagooddeal.Ofcoursewehadtodealwiththepoliceandallthatsortofthing.”
“Veryunpleasant,”saidAlice.“Didtheyfindoutwhodidit?”sheadded,withratherperfunctoryinterest.
“Notyet,”saidHarold.
“Whatsortofwomanwasshe?”
“Nobodyknows.French,apparently.”
“Oh,French,”saidAlice,andallowingforthedifferenceinclass,hertonewasnotunlikethatofInspectorBacon.“Veryannoyingforyouall,”sheagreed.
Theywentoutfromthediningroomandcrossedintothesmallstudywheretheyusuallysatwhentheywerealone.Haroldwasfeelingquiteexhaustedbynow.“I’llgouptobedearly,”hethought.
Hepickedupthesmallparcelfromthehalltable,aboutwhichhiswifehadspokentohim.Itwasasmallneatlywaxedparcel,doneupwithmeticulousexactness.Haroldrippeditopenashecametositdowninhisusualchairbythefire.
Insidewasasmalltabletboxbearingthelabel,“Twotobetakennightly.”Withitwasasmallpieceofpaperwiththechemist’sheadinginBrackhampton.“SentbyrequestofDoctorQuimper”waswrittenonit.
HaroldCrackenthorpefrowned.Heopenedtheboxandlookedatthetablets.Yes,theyseemedtobethesametabletshehadbeenhaving.Butsurely,surelyQuimperhadsaidthatheneedn’ttakeanymore?“Youwon’twantthem,now.”That’swhatQuimperhadsaid.
“Whatisit,dear?”saidAlice.“Youlookworried.”
“Oh,it’sjust—sometablets.I’vebeentakingthematnight.ButIratherthoughtthedoctorsaiddon’ttakeanymore.”
Hiswifesaidplacidly:“Heprobablysaiddon’tforgettotakethem.”
“Hemayhavedone,Isuppose,”saidHarolddoubtfully.
Helookedacrossather.Shewaswatchinghim.Justforamomentortwohewondered—hedidn’toftenwonderaboutAlice—exactlywhatshewasthinking.Thatmildgazeofherstoldhimnothing.Hereyeswerelikewindowsinanemptyhouse.WhatdidAlicethinkabouthim,feelabouthim?Hadshebeeninlovewithhimonce?Hesupposedshehad.OrdidshemarryhimbecauseshethoughthewasdoingwellintheCity,andshewastiredofherownimpecuniousexistence?Well,onthewhole,she’ddonequitewelloutofit.She’dgotacarandahouseinLondon,shecouldtravelabroadwhenshefeltlikeitandgetherselfexpensiveclothes,thoughgoodnessknowstheyneverlookedlikeanythingonAlice.Yes,onthewholeshe’ddoneprettywell.Hewonderedifshethoughtso.Shewasn’treallyfondofhim,ofcourse,butthenhewasn’treallyfondofher.Theyhadnothingincommon,nothingtotalkabout,nomemoriestoshare.Iftherehadbeenchildren—buttherehadn’tbeenanychildren—oddthattherewerenochildreninthefamilyexceptyoungEdie’sboy.YoungEdie.She’dbeenasillygirl,makingthatfoolish,hastywar-timemarriage.Well,he’dgivenhergoodadvice.
He’dsaid:“It’sallverywell,thesedashingyoungpilots,glamour,courage,allthat,buthe’llbenogoodinpeacetime,youknow.Probablybebarelyabletosupportyou.”
AndEdiehadsaid,whatdiditmatter?ShelovedBryanandBryanlovedher,andhe’dprobablybekilledquitesoon.Whyshouldn’ttheyhavesomehappiness?Whatwasthegoodoflookingtothefuturewhentheymightwellbebombedanyminute.Andafterall,Ediehadsaid,thefuturedoesn’treallymatterbecausesomedaythere’llbeallgrandfather’smoney.
Haroldsquirmeduneasilyinhischair.Really,thatwillofhisgrandfather’shadbeeniniquitous!Keepingthemalldanglingonastring.Thewillhadn’tpleasedanybody.Itdidn’tpleasethegrandchildrenanditmadetheirfatherquitelivid.Theoldboywasabsolutelydeterminednottodie.That’swhatmadehimtakesomuchcareofhimself.Buthe’dhavetodiesoon.Surely,surelyhe’dhavetodiesoon.Otherwise—allHarold’sworriessweptoverhimoncemoremakinghimfeelsickandtiredandgiddy.
Alicewasstillwatchinghim,henoticed.Thosepale,thoughtfuleyes,theymadehimuneasysomehow.
“IthinkIshallgotobed,”hesaid.“It’sbeenmyfirstdayoutintheCity.”
“Yes,”saidAlice,“Ithinkthat’sagoodidea.I’msurethedoctortoldyoutotakethingseasilyatfirst.”
“Doctorsalwaystellyouthat,”saidHarold.
“Anddon’tforgettotakeyourtablets,dear,”saidAlice.Shepickeduptheboxandhandedittohim.
Hesaidgoodnightandwentupstairs.Yes,heneededthetablets.Itwouldhavebeenamistaketoleavethemofftoosoon.Hetooktwoofthemandswallowedthemwithaglassofwater.
Twenty-four
“NobodycouldhavemademoreofamuckofitthanIseemtohavedone,”saidDermotCraddockgloomily.
Hesat,hislonglegsstretchedout,lookingsomehowincongruousinfaithfulFlorence’ssomewhatoverfurnishedparlour.Hewasthoroughlytired,upsetanddispirited.
MissMarplemadesoft,soothingnoisesofdissent.“No,no,you’vedoneverygoodwork,mydearboy.Verygoodworkindeed.”
“I’vedoneverygoodwork,haveI?I’veletawholefamilybepoisoned.AlfredCrackenthorpe’sdeadandnowHarold’sdeadtoo.Whatthehell’sgoingonhere.That’swhatIshouldliketoknow.”
“Poisonedtablets,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.
“Yes.Devilishlycunning,really.Theylookedjustlikethetabletsthathe’dbeenhaving.Therewasaprintedslipsentinwiththem‘byDoctorQuimper’sinstructions.’Well,Quimperneverorderedthem.Therewerechemist’slabelsused.Thechemistknewnothingaboutit,either.No.ThatboxoftabletscamefromRutherfordHall.”
“DoyouactuallyknowitcamefromRutherfordHall?”
“Yes.We’vehadathoroughcheckup.Actually,it’stheboxthatheldthesedativetabletsprescribedforEmma.”
“Oh,Isee.ForEmma….”
“Yes.It’sgotherfingerprintsonitandthefingerprintsofboththenursesandthefingerprintofthechemistwhomadeitup.Nobodyelse’s,naturally.Thepersonwhosentthemwascareful.”
“Andthesedativetabletswereremovedandsomethingelsesubstituted?”
“Yes.Thatofcourseisthedevilwithtablets.Onetabletlooksexactlylikeanother.”
“Youaresoright,”agreedMissMarple.“Iremembersoverywellinmyyoungdays,theblackmixtureandthebrownmixture(thecoughmixturethatwas)andthewhitemixture,andDoctorSo-and-So’spinkmixture.Peopledidn’tmixthoseupnearlyasmuch.Infact,youknow,inmyvillageofSt.MaryMeadwestilllikethatkindofmedicine.It’sabottletheyalwayswant,nottablets.Whatwerethetablets?”sheasked.
“Aconite.Theywerethekindoftabletsthatareusuallykeptinapoisonbottle,dilutedoneinahundredforoutsideapplication.”
“AndsoHaroldtookthem,anddied,”MissMarplesaidthoughtfully.DermotCraddockutteredsomethinglikeagroan.
“Youmustn’tmindmylettingoffsteamtoyou,”hesaid.“TellitalltoAuntJane;that’showIfeel!”
“That’svery,veryniceofyou,”saidMissMarple,“andIdoappreciateit.Ifeeltowardsyou,asSirHenry’sgodson,quitedifferentlyfromthewayIfeeltoanyordinarydetective-inspector.”
DermotCraddockgaveherafleetinggrin.“ButthefactremainsthatI’vemadethemostghastlymessofthingsallalongtheline,”hesaid.“TheChiefConstabledownherecallsinScotlandYard,andwhatdotheyget?Theygetmemakingaprizeassofmyself!”
“No,no,”saidMissMarple.
“Yes,yes.Idon’tknowwhopoisonedAlfred,Idon’tknowwhopoisonedHarold,and,tocapitall,Ihaven’ttheleastideawhotheoriginalmurderedwomanwas!ThisMartinebusinessseemedaperfectlysafebet.Thewholethingseemedtotieup.Andnowwhathappens?TherealMartineshowsupandturnsout,mostimprobably,tobethewifeofSirRobertStoddart-West.So,who’sthewomaninthebarnnow?Goodnessknows.FirstIgoalloutontheideashe’sAnnaStravinska,andthenshe’soutofit—”
HewasarrestedbyMissMarplegivingoneofhersmallpeculiarlysignificantcoughs.
“Butisshe?”shemurmured.
Craddockstaredather.“Well,thatpostcardfromJamaica—”
“Yes,”saidMissMarple;“butthatisn’treallyevidence,isit?Imean,anyonecangetapostcardsentfromalmostanywhere,Isuppose.IrememberMrs.Brierly,suchaverybadnervousbreakdown.Finally,theysaidsheoughttogotothementalhospitalforobservation,andshewassoworriedaboutthechildrenknowingaboutitandsoshewrotefourteenpostcardsandarrangedthattheyshouldbepostedfromdifferentplacesabroad,andtoldthemthatMummywasgoingabroadonaholiday.”Sheadded,lookingatDermotCraddock,“YouseewhatImean.”
“Yes,ofcourse,”saidCraddock,staringather.“Naturallywe’dhavecheckedthatpostcardifithadn’tbeenfortheMartinebusinessfittingthebillsowell.”
“Soconvenient,”murmuredMissMarple
“Ittiedup,”saidCraddock.“Afterall,there’stheletterEmmareceivedsignedMartineCrackenthorpe.LadyStoddart-Westdidn’tsendthat,butsomebodydid.SomebodywhowasgoingtopretendtobeMartine,andwhowasgoingtocashin,ifpossible,onbeingMartine.Youcan’tdenythat.”
“No,no.”
“Andthen,theenvelopeoftheletterEmmawrotetoherwiththeLondonaddressonit.FoundatRutherfordHall,showingshe’dactuallybeenthere.”
“Butthemurderedwomanhadn’tbeenthere!”MissMarplepointedout.“Notinthesenseyoumean.SheonlycametoRutherfordHallaftershewasdead.Pushedoutofatrainontotherailwayembankment.”
“Oh,yes.”
“Whattheenvelopereallyprovesisthatthemurdererwasthere.Presumablyhetookthatenvelopeoffherwithherotherpapersandthings,andthendroppeditbymistake—or—Iwondernow,wasitamistake?SurelyInspectorBacon,andyourmentoo,madeathoroughsearchoftheplace,didn’tthey,anddidn’tfindit.Itonlyturneduplaterintheboilerhouse.”
“That’sunderstandable,”saidCraddock.“Theoldgardenerchapusedtospearupanyoddstuffthatwasblowingaboutandshoveitinthere.”
“Whereitwasveryconvenientfortheboystofind,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.
“Youthinkweweremeanttofindit?”
“Well,Ijustwonder.Afterall,itwouldbefairlyeasytoknowwheretheboysweregoingtolooknext,oreventosuggesttothem…Yes,Idowonder.ItstoppedyouthinkingaboutAnnaStravinskaanymore,didn’tit?”
Craddocksaid:“Andyouthinkitreallymaybeherallthetime?”
“Ithinksomeonemayhavegotalarmedwhenyoustartedmakinginquiriesabouther,that’sall…Ithinksomebodydidn’twantthoseinquiriesmade.”
“Let’sholdontothebasicfactthatsomeonewasgoingtoimpersonateMartine,”saidCraddock.“Andthenforsomereason—didn’t.Why?”
“That’saveryinterestingquestion,”saidMissMarple.
“SomebodysentanotesayingMartinewasgoingbacktoFrance,thenarrangedtotraveldownwiththegirlandkillherontheway.Youagreesofar?”
“Notexactly,”saidMissMarple.“Idon’tthink,really,you’remakingitsimpleenough.”
“Simple!”exclaimedCraddock.“You’remixingmeup,”hecomplained.
MissMarplesaidinadistressedvoicethatshewouldn’tthinkofdoinganythinglikethat.
“Come,tellme,”saidCraddock,“doyouordoyounotthinkyouknowwhothemurderedwomanwas?”MissMarplesighed.“It’ssodifficult,”shesaid,“toputittherightway.Imean,Idon’tknowwhoshewas,butatthesametimeI’mfairlysurewhoshewas,ifyouknowwhatImean.”
Craddockthrewuphishead.“Knowwhatyoumean?Ihaven’tthefaintestidea.”Helookedoutthroughthewindow.“There’syourLucyEyelesbarrowcomingtoseeyou,”hesaid.“Well,I’llbeoff.Myamourpropreisverylowthisafternoonandhavingayoungwomancomingin,radiantwithefficiencyandsuccess,ismorethanIcanbear.”
Twenty-five
“Ilookeduptontineinthedictionary,”saidLucy.
ThefirstgreetingswereoverandnowLucywaswanderingratheraimlesslyroundtheroom,touchingachinadoghere,anantimacassarthere,theplasticwork-boxinthewindow.
“Ithoughtyouprobablywould,”saidMissMarpleequably.
Lucyspokeslowly,quotingthewords.“LorenzoTonti,Italianbanker,originator,1653,ofaformofannuityinwhichthesharesofsubscriberswhodieareaddedtotheprofitsharesofthesurvivors.”Shepaused.“That’sit,isn’tit?Thatfitswellenough,andyouwerethinkingofiteventhenbeforethelasttwodeaths.”
Shetookuponcemoreherrestless,almostaimlessprowlroundtheroom.MissMarplesatwatchingher.ThiswasaverydifferentLucyEyelesbarrowfromtheonesheknew.
“Isupposeitwasaskingforitreally,”saidLucy.“Awillofthatkind,endingsothatiftherewasonlyonesurvivorlefthe’dgetthelot.Andyet—therewasquitealotofmoney,wasn’tthere?You’dthinkitwouldbeenoughsharedout…”Shepaused,thewordstrailingoff.
“Thetroubleis,”saidMissMarple,“thatpeoplearegreedy.Somepeople.That’ssooften,youknow,howthingsstart.Youdon’tstartwithmurder,withwantingtodomurder,oreventhinkingofit.Youjuststartbybeinggreedy,bywantingmorethanyou’regoingtohave.”Shelaidherknittingdownonherkneeandstaredaheadofherintospace.“That’showIcameacrossInspectorCraddockfirst,youknow.Acaseinthecountry.NearMedenhamSpa.Thatbeganthesameway,justaweakamiablecharacterwhowantedagreatdealofmoney.Moneythatthatpersonwasn’tentitledto,butthereseemedaneasywaytogetit.Notmurderthen.Justsomethingsoeasyandsimplethatithadn’tseemedwrong.That’showthingsbegin…Butitendedwiththreemurders.”
“Justlikethis,”saidLucy.“We’vehadthreemurdersnow.ThewomanwhoimpersonatedMartineandwhowouldhavebeenabletoclaimashareforherson,andthenAlfred,andthenHarold.Andnowitonlyleavestwo,doesn’tit?”
“Youmean,”saidMissMarple,“thereareonlyCedricandEmmaleft?”
“NotEmma.Emmaisn’tatalldarkman.No.ImeanCedricandBryanEastley.IneverthoughtofBryanbecausehe’sfair.He’sgotafairmoustacheandblueeyes,butyousee—theotherday…”Shepaused.
“Yes,goon,”saidMissMarple.“Tellme.Somethinghasupsetyouverybadly,hasn’tit?”
“ItwaswhenLadyStoddart-Westwasgoingaway.Shehadsaidgood-byeandthensuddenlyturnedtomejustasshewasgettingintothecarandasked:‘WhowasthattalldarkmanwhowasstandingontheterraceasIcamein?’
“Icouldn’timaginewhoshemeantatfirst,becauseCedricwasstilllaidup.SoIsaid,ratherpuzzled,‘Youdon’tmeanBryanEastley?’andshesaid,‘Ofcourse,that’swhoitwas,SquadronLeaderEastley.HewashiddeninourloftonceinFranceduringtheResistance.Irememberedthewayhestood,andthesetofhisshoulders,’andshesaid,‘Ishouldliketomeethimagain,’butwecouldn’tfindhim.”
MissMarplesaidnothing,justwaited.
“Andthen,”saidLucy,“laterIlookedathim…HewasstandingwithhisbacktomeandIsawwhatIoughttohaveseenbefore.Thatevenwhenaman’sfairhishairlooksdarkbecauseheplastersitdownwithstuff.Bryan’shairisasortofmediumbrown,Isuppose,butitcanlookdark.Soyousee,itmighthavebeenBryanthatyourfriendsawinthetrain.Itmight….”
“Yes,”saidMissMarple.“Ihadthoughtofthat.”
“Isupposeyouthinkofeverything!”saidLucybitterly.
“Well,dear,onehastoreally.”
“ButIcan’tseewhatBryanwouldgetoutofit.ImeanthemoneywouldcometoAlexander,nottohim.Isupposeitwouldmakeaneasierlife,theycouldhaveabitmoreluxury,buthewouldn’tbeabletotapthecapitalforhisschemes,oranythinglikethat.”
“ButifanythinghappenedtoAlexanderbeforehewastwenty-one,thenBryanwouldgetthemoneyashisfatherandnextofkin,”MissMarplepointedout.
Lucycastalookofhorrorather.
“He’dneverdothat.Nofatherwouldeverdothatjust—justtogetthemoney.”
MissMarplesighed.“Peopledo,mydear.It’sverysadandveryterrible,buttheydo.
“Peopledoveryterriblethings,”wentonMissMarple.“Iknowawomanwhopoisonedthreeofherchildrenjustforalittlebitofinsurancemoney.Andthentherewasanoldwoman,quiteaniceoldwomanapparently,whopoisonedhersonwhenhecamehomeonleave.ThentherewasthatoldMrs.Stanwich.Thatcasewasinthepapers.Idaresayyoureadaboutit.Herdaughterdiedandherson,andthenshesaidshewaspoisonedherself.Therewaspoisoninthegruel,butitcameout,youknow,thatshe’dputitthereherself.Shewasjustplanningtopoisonthelastdaughter.Thatwasn’texactlyformoney.Shewasjealousofthemforbeingyoungerthanshewasandalive,andshewasafraid—it’saterriblethingtosaybutit’strue—theywouldenjoythemselvesaftershewasgone.She’dalwayskeptaverytightholdonthepursestrings.Yes,ofcourseshewasalittlepeculiar,astheysay,butIneverseemyselfthatthat’sanyrealexcuse.Imeanyoucanbealittlepeculiarinsomanydifferentways.Sometimesyoujustgoaboutgivingallyourpossessionsawayandwritingchequesonbankaccountsthatdon’texist,justsoastobenefitpeople.Itshows,yousee,thatbehindbeingpeculiaryouhavequiteanicedisposition.Butofcourseifyou’repeculiarandbehindityouhaveabaddisposition—well,thereyouare.Now,doesthathelpyouatall,mydearLucy?”
“Doeswhathelpme?”askedLucy,bewildered.
“WhatI’vebeentellingyou,”saidMissMarple.Sheaddedgently,“Youmustn’tworry,youknow.Youreallymustn’tworry.ElspethMcGillicuddywillbehereanydaynow.”
“Idon’tseewhatthathastodowithit.”
“No,dear,perhapsnot.ButIthinkit’simportantmyself.”
“Ican’thelpworrying,”saidLucy.“Yousee,I’vegotinterestedinthefamily.”
“Iknow,dear,it’sverydifficultforyoubecauseyouarequitestronglyattractedtobothofthem,aren’tyou,inverydifferentways.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”saidLucy.Hertonewassharp.
“Iwastalkingaboutthetwosonsofthehouse,”saidMissMarple.“Orratherthesonandtheson-in-law.It’sunfortunatethatthetwomoreunpleasantmembersofthefamilyhavediedandthetwomoreattractiveonesareleft.IcanseethatCedricCrackenthorpeisveryattractive.Heisinclinedtomakehimselfoutworsethanheisandhasaprovocativewaywithhim.”
“Hemakesmefightingmadsometimes,”saidLucy.
“Yes,”saidMissMarple,“andyouenjoythat,don’tyou?You’reagirlwithalotofspiritandyouenjoyabattle.Yes,Icanseewherethatattractionlies.AndthenMr.Eastleyisaratherplaintivetype,ratherlikeanunhappylittleboy.That,ofcourse,isattractive,too.”
“Andoneofthem’samurderer,”saidLucybitterly,“anditmaybeeitherofthem.There’snothingtochoosebetweenthemreally.There’sCedric,notcaringabitabouthisbrotherAlfred’sdeathoraboutHarold’s.Hejustsitsbacklookingthoroughlypleasedmakingplansforwhathe’lldowithRutherfordHall,andhekeepssayingthatit’llneedalotofmoneytodevelopitinthewayhewantstodo.OfcourseIknowhe’sthesortofpersonwhoexaggerateshisowncallousnessandallthat.Butthatcouldbeacover,too.Imeaneveryonesaysthatyou’remorecallousthanyoureallyare.Butyoumightn’tbe.Youmightbeevenmorecallousthanyouseem!”
“Dear,dearLucy,I’msosorryaboutallthis.”
“AndthenBryan,”wentonLucy.“It’sextraordinary,butBryanreallyseemstowanttolivethere.HethinksheandAlexandercouldfinditawfullyjollyandhe’sfullofschemes.”
“He’salwaysfullofschemesofonekindoranother,isn’the?”
“Yes,Ithinkheis.Theyallsoundratherwonderful—butI’vegotanuneasyfeelingthatthey’dneverreallywork.Imean,they’renotpractical.Theideasoundsallright—butIdon’tthinkheeverconsiderstheactualworkingdifficulties.”
“Theyareupintheair,sotospeak?”
“Yes,inmorewaysthanone.Imeantheyareusuallyliterallyupintheair.Theyareallairschemes.Perhapsareallygoodfighterpilotneverdoesquitecomedowntoearthagain….”
Sheadded:“AndhelikesRutherfordHallsomuchbecauseitremindshimofthebigramblingVictorianhousehelivedinwhenhewasachild.”
“Isee,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.“Yes,Isee….”
Then,withaquicksidewaysglanceatLucy,shesaidwithakindofverbalpounce,“Butthatisn’tallofit,isit,dear?There’ssomethingelse.”
“Oh,yes,there’ssomethingelse.JustsomethingthatIdidn’trealizeuntiljustacoupleofdaysago.Bryancouldactuallyhavebeenonthattrain.”
“Onthe4:33fromPaddington?”
“Yes.YouseeEmmathoughtshewasrequiredtoaccountforhermovementson20thDecemberandshewentoveritallverycarefully—acommitteemeetinginthemorning,andthenshoppingintheafternoonandteaattheGreenShamrock,andthen,shesaid,shewenttomeetBryanatthestation.Thetrainshemetwasthe4:50fromPaddington,buthecouldhavebeenontheearliertrainandpretendedtocomebythelaterone.Hetoldmequitecasuallythathiscarhadhadabiffandwasbeingrepairedandsohehadtocomedownbytrain—anawfulbore,hesaid,hehatestrains.Heseemedquitenaturalaboutitall…Itmaybequiteallright—butIwish,somehow,hehadn’tcomedownbytrain.”
“Actuallyonthetrain,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.
“Itdoesn’treallyproveanything.Theawfulthingisallthissuspicion.Nottoknow.Andperhapswenevershallknow!”
“Ofcourseweshallknow,dear,”saidMissMarplebriskly.“Imean—allthisisn’tgoingtostopjustatthispoint.TheonethingIdoknowaboutmurderersisthattheycanneverletwellalone.Orperhapsoneshouldsay—illalone.Atanyrate,”saidMissMarplewithfinality,“theycan’toncethey’vedoneasecondmurder.Nowdon’tgettooupset,Lucy.Thepolicearedoingalltheycan,andlookingaftereverybody—andthegreatthingisthatElspethMcGillicuddywillbehereverysoonnow!”
Twenty-six
I
“Now,Elspeth,you’requiteclearastowhatIwantyoutodo?”
“I’mclearenough,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,“butwhatIsaytoyouis,Jane,thatitseemsveryodd.”
“It’snotoddatall,”saidMissMarple.
“Well,Ithinkso.ToarriveatthehouseandtoaskalmostimmediatelywhetherIcan—er—goupstairs.”
“It’sverycoldweather,”MissMarplepointedout,“andafterall,youmighthaveeatensomethingthatdisagreedwithyouand—er—havetoasktogoupstairs.Imean,thesethingshappen.IrememberpoorLouisaFelbycametoseemeonceandshehadtoasktogoupstairsfivetimesduringonelittlehalfhour.That,”addedMissMarpleparenthetically,“wasabadCornishpasty.”
“Ifyou’djusttellmewhatyou’redrivingat,Jane,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.
“That’sjustwhatIdon’twanttodo,”saidMissMarple.
“Howirritatingyouare,Jane.FirstyoumakemecomeallthewaybacktoEnglandbeforeIneed—”
“I’msorryaboutthat,”saidMissMarple;“butIcouldn’tdoanythingelse.Someone,yousee,maybekilledatanymoment.Oh,Iknowthey’reallontheirguardandthepolicearetakingalltheprecautionstheycan,butthere’salwaystheoutsidechancethatthemurderermightbetoocleverforthem.Soyousee,Elspeth,itwasyourdutytocomeback.Afterall,youandIwerebroughtuptodoourduty,weren’twe?”
“Wecertainlywere,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,“nolaxnessinouryoungdays.”
“Sothat’squiteallright,”saidMissMarple,“andthat’sthetaxinow,”sheadded,asafainthootwasheardoutsidethehouse.
Mrs.McGillicuddydonnedherheavypepper-and-saltcoatandMissMarplewrappedherselfupwithagoodmanyshawlsandscarves.ThenthetwoladiesgotintothetaxiandweredriventoRutherfordHall.
II
“Whocanthisbedrivingup?”Emmaasked,lookingoutofthewindow,asthetaxisweptpastit.“Idobelieveit’sLucy’soldaunt.”
“Whatabore,”saidCedric.
HewaslyingbackinalongchairlookingatCountryLifewithhisfeetreposingonthesideofthemantelpiece.
“Tellheryou’renotathome.”
“WhenyousaytellherI’mnotathome,doyoumeanthatIshouldgooutandsayso?OrthatIshouldtellLucytotellherauntso?”
“Hadn’tthoughtofthat,”saidCedric.“IsupposeIwasthinkingofourbutlerandfootmandays,ifweeverhadthem.Iseemtorememberafootmanbeforethewar.Hehadanaffairwiththekitchenmaidandtherewasaterrificrumpusaboutit.Isn’tthereoneofthoseoldhagsabouttheplacecleaning?”
ButatthatmomentthedoorwasopenedbyMrs.Hart,whoseafternoonitwasforcleaningthebrasses,andMissMarplecamein,veryfluttery,inawhirlofshawlsandscarves,withanuncompromisingfigurebehindher.
“Idohope,”saidMissMarple,takingEmma’shand,“thatwearenotintruding.Butyousee,I’mgoinghomethedayaftertomorrow,andIcouldn’tbearnottocomeoverandseeyouandsaygood-bye,andthankyouagainforyourgoodnesstoLucy.Oh,Iforgot.MayIintroducemyfriend,Mrs.McGillicuddy,whoisstayingwithme?”
“Howd’youdo,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,lookingatEmmawithcompleteattentionandthenshiftinghergazetoCedric,whohadnowrisentohisfeet.Lucyenteredtheroomatthismoment.
“AuntJane,Ihadnoidea….”
“Ihadtocomeandsaygood-byetoMissCrackenthorpe,”saidMissMarple,turningtoher,“whohasbeensovery,verykindtoyou,Lucy.”
“It’sLucywho’sbeenverykindtous,”saidEmma.
“Yes,indeed,”saidCedric.“We’veworkedherlikeagalleyslave.Waitingonthesickroom,runningupanddownthestairs,cookinglittleinvalidmesses….”
MissMarplebrokein.“Iwassovery,verysorrytohearofyourillness.Idohopeyou’requiterecoverednow,MissCrackenthorpe?”
“Oh,we’requitewellagainnow,”saidEmma.
“Lucytoldmeyouwereallveryill.Sodangerous,isn’tit,foodpoisoning?Mushrooms,Iunderstand.”
“Thecauseremainsrathermysterious,”saidEmma.
“Don’tyoubelieveit,”saidCedric.“Ibetyou’veheardtherumoursthatareflyinground,Miss—er—”
“Marple,”saidMissMarple.
“Well,asIsay,Ibetyou’veheardtherumoursthatareflyinground.Nothinglikearsenicforraisingalittleflutterintheneighbourhood.”
“Cedric,”saidEmma,“Iwishyouwouldn’t.YouknowInspectorCraddocksaid….”
“Bah,”saidCedric,“everybodyknows.Evenyou’veheardsomething,haven’tyou?”heturnedtoMissMarpleandMrs.McGillicuddy.
“Imyself,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,“haveonlyjustreturnedfromabroad—thedaybeforeyesterday,”sheadded.
“Ah,well,you’renotuponourlocalscandalthen,”saidCedric.“Arsenicinthecurry,that’swhatitwas.Lucy’sauntknowsallaboutit,Ibet.”
“Well,”saidMissMarple,“Ididjusthear—Imean,itwasjustahint,butofcourseIdidn’twanttoembarrassyouinanyway,MissCrackenthorpe.”
“Youmustpaynoattentiontomybrother,”saidEmma.“Hejustlikesmakingpeopleuncomfortable.”Shegavehimanaffectionatesmileasshespoke.
ThedooropenedandMr.Crackenthorpecamein,tappingangrilywithhisstick.
“Where’stea?”hesaid,“whyisn’tteaready?You!Girl!”headdressedLucy,“whyhaven’tyoubroughtteain?”
“It’sjustready,Mr.Crackenthorpe.I’mbringingitinnow.Iwasjustsettingthetableready.”
LucywentoutoftheroomagainandMr.CrackenthorpewasintroducedtoMissMarpleandMrs.McGillicuddy.
“Likemymealsontime,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“Punctualityandeconomy.Thosearemywatchwords.”
“Verynecessary,I’msure,”saidMissMarple,“especiallyinthesetimeswithtaxationandeverything.”
Mr.Crackenthorpesnorted.“Taxation!Don’ttalktomeofthoserobbers.Amiserablepauper—that’swhatIam.Andit’sgoingtogetworse,notbetter.Youwait,myboy,”headdressedCedric,“whenyougetthisplacetentoonetheSocialistswillhaveitoffyouandturnitintoaWelfareCentreorsomething.Andtakeallyourincometokeepitupwith!”
Lucyreappearedwithateatray,BryanEastleyfollowedhercarryingatrayofsandwiches,breadandbutterandcake.
“What’sthis?What’sthis?”Mr.Crackenthorpeinspectedthetray.“Frostedcake?Wehavingapartytoday?Nobodytoldmeaboutit.”
AfaintflushcameintoEmma’sface.
“Dr.Quimper’scomingtotea,Father.It’shisbirthdaytodayand—”
“Birthday?”snortedtheoldman.“What’shedoingwithabirthday?Birthdaysareonlyforchildren.InevercountmybirthdaysandIwon’tletanyoneelsecelebratethemeither.”
“Muchcheaper,”agreedCedric.“Yousavethepriceofcandlesonyourcake.”
“That’senoughfromyou,boy,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.
MissMarplewasshakinghandswithBryanEastley.“I’veheardaboutyou,ofcourse,”shesaid,“fromLucy.Dearme,youremindmesoofsomeoneIusedtoknowatSt.MaryMead.That’sthevillagewhereI’velivedforsomanyyears,youknow.RonnieWells,thesolicitor’sson.Couldn’tseemtosettlesomehowwhenhewentintohisfather’sbusiness.HewentouttoEastAfricaandstartedaseriesofcargoboatsonthelakeoutthere.VictoriaNyanza,orisitAlbert,Imean?Anyway,I’msorrytosaythatitwasn’tasuccess,andhelostallhiscapital.Mostunfortunate!Notanyrelationofyours,Isuppose?Thelikenessissogreat.”
“No,”saidBryan,“Idon’tthinkI’veanyrelationscalledWells.”
“Hewasengagedtoaverynicegirl,”saidMissMarple.“Verysensible.Shetriedtodissuadehim,buthewouldn’tlistentoher.Hewaswrongofcourse.Womenhavealotofsense,youknow,whenitcomestomoneymatters.Nothighfinance,ofcourse.Nowomancanhopetounderstandthat,mydearfathersaid.ButeverydayL.s.d.—thatsortofthing.Whatadelightfulviewyouhavefromthiswindow,”sheadded,makingherwayacrossandlookingout.
Emmajoinedher.
“Suchanexpanseofparkland!Howpicturesquethecattlelookagainstthetrees.Onewouldneverdreamthatonewasinthemiddleofatown.”
“We’reratherananachronism,Ithink,”saidEmma.“Ifthewindowswereopennowyou’dhearfaroffthenoiseofthetraffic.”
“Oh,ofcourse,”saidMissMarple,“there’snoiseeverywhere,isn’tthere?EveninSt.MaryMead.We’renowquiteclosetoanairfield,youknow,andreallythewaythosejetplanesflyover!Mostfrightening.Twopanesinmylittlegreenhousebrokentheotherday.Goingthroughthesoundbarrier,orsoIunderstand,thoughwhatitmeansIneverhaveknown.”
“It’squitesimple,really,”saidBryan,approachingamiably.“Yousee,it’slikethis.”
MissMarpledroppedherhandbagandBryanpolitelypickeditup.AtthesamemomentMrs.McGillicuddyapproachedEmmaandmurmured,inananguishedvoice—theanguishwasquitegenuinesinceMrs.McGillicuddydeeplydislikedthetaskwhichshewasnowperforming:
“Iwonder—couldIgoupstairsforamoment?”
“Ofcourse,”saidEmma.
“I’lltakeyou,”saidLucy.
LucyandMrs.McGillicuddylefttheroomtogether.
“Verycold,drivingtoday,”saidMissMarpleinavaguelyexplanatorymanner
“Aboutthesoundbarrier,”saidBryan,“youseeit’slikethis…Oh,hallo,there’sQuimper.”
Thedoctordroveupinhiscar.Hecameinrubbinghishandsandlookingverycold.
“Goingtosnow,”hesaid,“that’smyguess.Hallo,Emma,howareyou?Goodlord,what’sallthis?”
“Wemadeyouabirthdaycake,”saidEmma.“D’youremember?Youtoldmetodaywasyourbirthday.”
“Ididn’texpectallthis,”saidQuimper.“Youknowit’syears—why,itmustbe—yessixteenyearssinceanyone’srememberedmybirthday.”Helookedalmostuncomfortablytouched.
“DoyouknowMissMarple?”Emmaintroducedhim.
“Oh,yes,”saidMissMarple,“ImetDr.QuimperherebeforeandhecameandsawmewhenIhadaverynastychilltheotherdayandhewasmostkind.”
“Allrightagainnow,Ihope?”saidthedoctor.
MissMarpleassuredhimthatshewasquiteallrightnow.
“Youhaven’tbeentoseemelately,Quimper,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“Imightbedyingforallthenoticeyoutakeofme!”
“Idon’tseeyoudyingyetawhile,”saidDr.Quimper.
“Idon’tmeanto,”saidMr.Crackenthorpe.“Comeon,let’shavetea.What’rewewaitingfor?”
“Oh,please,”saidMissMarple,“don’twaitformyfriend.Shewouldbemostupsetifyoudid.”
Theysatdownandstartedtea.MissMarpleacceptedapieceofbreadandbutterfirst,andthenwentontoasandwich
“Arethey—?”shehesitated.
“Fish,”saidBryan.“Ihelpedmake’em.”
Mr.Crackenthorpegaveacackleoflaughter.
“Poisonedfishpaste,”hesaid.“That’swhattheyare.Eat’ematyourperil.”
“Please,Father!”
“You’vegottobecarefulwhatyoueatinthishouse,”saidMr.CrackenthorpetoMissMarple.“Twoofmysonshavebeenmurderedlikeflies.Who’sdoingit—that’swhatIwanttoknow.”
“Don’tlethimputyouoff,”saidCedric,handingtheplateoncemoretoMissMarple.“Atouchofarsenicimprovesthecomplexion,theysay,solongasyoudon’thavetoomuch.”
“Eatoneyourself,boy,”saidoldMr.Crackenthorpe.
“Wantmetobeofficialtaster?”saidCedric.“Heregoes.”
Hetookasandwichandputitwholeintohismouth.MissMarplegaveagentle,ladylikelittlelaughandtookasandwich.Shetookabite,andsaid:
“Idothinkit’ssobraveofyoualltomakethesejokes.Yes,really,Ithinkit’sverybraveindeed.Idoadmirebraverysomuch.”
Shegaveasuddengaspandbegantochoke.“Afishbone,”shegaspedout,“inmythroat.”
Quimperrosequickly.Hewentacrosstoher,movedherbackwardstowardsthewindowandtoldhertoopenhermouth.Hepulledoutacasefromhispocket,selectingsomeforcepsfromit.Withquickprofessionalskillhepeereddowntheoldlady’sthroat.AtthatmomentthedooropenedandMrs.McGillicuddy,followedbyLucy,camein.Mrs.McGillicuddygaveasuddengaspashereyesfellonthetableauinfrontofher,MissMarpleleaningbackandthedoctorholdingherthroatandtiltingupherhead.
“Butthat’shim,”criedMrs.McGillicuddy.“That’sthemaninthetrain….”
WithincredibleswiftnessMissMarpleslippedfromthedoctor’sgraspandcametowardsherfriend.
“Ithoughtyou’drecognizehim,Elspeth!”shesaid.“No.Don’tsayanotherword.”SheturnedtriumphantlyroundtoDr.Quimper.“Youdidn’tknow,didyou,Doctor,whenyoustrangledthatwomaninthetrain,thatsomebodyactuallysawyoudoit?Itwasmyfriendhere.Mrs.McGillicuddy.Shesawyou.Doyouunderstand?Sawyouwithherowneyes.Shewasinanothertrainthatwasrunningparallelwithyours.”
“Whatthehell?”Dr.QuimpermadeaquicksteptowardsMrs.McGillicuddybutagain,swiftly,MissMarplewasbetweenhimandher.
“Yes,”saidMissMarple.“Shesawyou,andsherecognizesyou,andshe’llsweartoitincourt.It’snotoften,Ibelieve,”wentonMissMarpleinhergentleplaintivevoice,“thatanyoneactuallyseesamurdercommitted.It’susuallycircumstantialevidenceofcourse.Butinthiscasetheconditionswereveryunusual.Therewasactuallyaneyewitnesstomurder.”
“Youdevilisholdhag,”saidDr.Quimper.HelungedforwardatMissMarplebutthistimeitwasCedricwhocaughthimbytheshoulder.
“Soyou’rethemurderingdevil,areyou?”saidCedricasheswunghimround.“IneverlikedyouandIalwaysthoughtyouwereawrong’un,butlordknows,Ineversuspectedyou.”
BryanEastleycamequicklytoCedric’sassistance.InspectorCraddockandInspectorBaconenteredtheroomfromthefartherdoor.
“Dr.Quimper,”saidBacon,“Imustcautionyouthat….”
“Youcantakeyourcautiontohell,”saidDr.Quimper.“Doyouthinkanyone’sgoingtobelievewhatacoupleofoldwomensay?Who’severheardofallthisrigmaroleaboutatrain!”
MissMarplesaid:“ElspethMcGillicuddyreportedthemurdertothepoliceatonceonthe20thDecemberandgaveadescriptionoftheman.”
Dr.Quimpergaveasuddenheaveoftheshoulders.“Ifeveramanhadthedevil’sownluck,”saidDr.Quimper.
“But—”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.
“Bequiet,Elspeth,”saidMissMarple
“WhyshouldIwanttomurderaperfectlystrangewoman?”saidDr.Quimper.
“Shewasn’tastrangewoman,”saidInspectorCraddock.“Shewasyourwife.”
Twenty-seven
“Soyousee,”saidMissMarple,“itreallyturnedouttobe,asIbegantosuspect,very,verysimple.Thesimplestkindofcrime.Somanymenseemtomurdertheirwives.”
Mrs.McGillicuddylookedatMissMarpleandInspectorCraddock.“I’dbeobliged,”shesaid,“ifyou’dputmealittlemoreuptodate.”
“Hesawachance,yousee,”saidMissMarple,“ofmarryingarichwife,EmmaCrackenthorpe.Onlyhecouldn’tmarryherbecausehehadawifealready.They’dbeenseparatedforyearsbutshewouldn’tdivorcehim.ThatfittedinverywellwithwhatInspectorCraddocktoldmeofthisgirlwhocalledherselfAnnaStravinska.ShehadanEnglishhusband,soshetoldoneofherfriends,anditwasalsosaidshewasaverydevoutCatholic.Dr.Quimpercouldn’triskmarryingEmmabigamously,sohedecided,beingaveryruthlessandcold-bloodedman,thathewouldgetridofhiswife.Theideaofmurderingherinthetrainandlaterputtingherbodyinthesarcophagusinthebarnwasreallyratheracleverone.Hemeantittotieup,yousee,withtheCrackenthorpefamily.Beforethathe’dwrittenalettertoEmmawhichpurportedtobefromthegirlMartinewhomEdmundCrackenthorpehadtalkedofmarrying.EmmahadtoldDr.Quimperallaboutherbrother,yousee.Then,whenthemomentaroseheencouragedhertogotothepolicewithherstory.HewantedthedeadwomanidentifiedasMartine.IthinkhemayhaveheardthatinquirieswerebeingmadebytheParispoliceaboutAnnaStravinska,andsohearrangedtohaveapostcardcomefromherfromJamaica.
“ItwaseasyforhimtoarrangetomeethiswifeinLondon,totellherthathehopedtobereconciledwithherandthathewouldlikehertocomedownand‘meethisfamily.’Wewon’ttalkaboutthenextpartofit,whichisveryunpleasanttothinkabout.Ofcoursehewasagreedyman.Whenhethoughtabouttaxation,andhowmuchitcutsintoincome,hebeganthinkingthatitwouldbenicetohaveagooddealmorecapital.Perhapshe’dalreadythoughtofthatbeforehedecidedtomurderhiswife.Anyway,hestartedspreadingrumoursthatsomeonewastryingtopoisonoldMr.Crackenthorpesoastogetthegroundprepared,andthenheendedbyadministeringarsenictothefamily.Nottoomuch,ofcourse,forhedidn’twantoldMr.Crackenthorpetodie.”
“ButIstilldon’tseehowhemanaged,”saidCraddock.“Hewasn’tinthehousewhenthecurrywasbeingprepared.”
“Oh,buttherewasn’tanyarsenicinthecurrythen,”saidMissMarple.“Headdedittothecurryafterwardswhenhetookitawaytobetested.Heprobablyputthearsenicinthecocktailjugearlier.Then,ofcourse,itwasquiteeasyforhim,inhisroleofmedicalattendant,topoisonoffAlfredCrackenthorpeandalsotosendthetabletstoHaroldinLondon,havingsafeguardedhimselfbytellingHaroldthathewouldn’tneedanymoretablets.Everythinghedidwasboldandaudaciousandcruelandgreedy,andIamreallyvery,verysorry,”finishedMissMarple,lookingasfierceasafluffyoldladycanlook,“thattheyhaveabolishedcapitalpunishmentbecauseIdofeelthatifthereisanyonewhooughttohang,it’sDr.Quimper.”
“Hear,hear,”saidInspectorCraddock
“Itoccurredtome,youknow,”continuedMissMarple,“thatevenifyouonlyseeanybodyfromthebackview,sotospeak,neverthelessabackviewischaracteristic.IthoughtthatifElspethweretoseeDr.Quimperinexactlythesamepositionasshe’dseenhiminthetrainin,thatis,withhisbacktoher,bentoverawomanwhomhewasholdingbythethroat,thenIwasalmostsureshewouldrecognizehim,orwouldmakesomekindofstartledexclamation.ThatiswhyIhadtolaymylittleplanwithLucy’skindassistance.”
“Imustsay,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy,“itgavemequiteaturn.Isaid,‘That’shim’beforeIcouldstopmyself.Andyet,youknow,Ihadn’tactuallyseentheman’sfaceand—”
“Iwasterriblyafraidthatyouweregoingtosayso,Elspeth,”saidMissMarple.
“Iwas,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.“IwasgoingtosaythatofcourseIhadn’tseenhisface.”
“That,”saidMissMarple,“wouldhavebeenquitefatal.Yousee,dear,hethoughtyoureallydidrecognizehim.Imean,hecouldn’tknowthatyouhadn’tseenhisface.”
“AgoodthingIheldmytonguethen,”saidMrs.McGillicuddy.
“Iwasn’tgoingtoletyousayanotherword,”saidMissMarple.
Craddocklaughedsuddenly.“Youtwo!”hesaid.“You’reamarvellouspair.Whatnext,MissMarple?What’sthehappyending?WhathappenstopoorEmmaCrackenthorpe,forinstance?”
“She’llgetoverthedoctor,ofcourse,”saidMissMarple,“andIdaresayifherfatherweretodie—andIdon’tthinkhe’squitesorobustashethinksheis—thatshe’dgoonacruiseorperhapstostayabroadlikeGeraldineWebb,andIdaresaysomethingmightcomeofit.AnicermanthanDr.Quimper,Ihope.”
“WhataboutLucyEyelesbarrow?Weddingbellstheretoo?”
“Perhaps,”saidMissMarple,“Ishouldn’twonder.”
“Whichof’emisshegoingtochoose?”saidDermotCraddock.
“Don’tyouknow?”saidMissMarple.
“No,Idon’t,”saidCraddock.“Doyou?”
“Oh,yes,Ithinkso,”saidMissMarple.
Andshetwinkledathim.
TheAgathaChristieCollection
THEHERCULEPOIROTMYSTERIES
MatchyourwitswiththefamousBelgiandetective.
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles
TheMurderontheLinks
PoirotInvestigates
TheMurderofRogerAckroyd
TheBigFour
TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain
PerilatEndHouse
LordEdgwareDies
MurderontheOrientExpress
ThreeActTragedy
DeathintheClouds
TheA.B.C.Murders
MurderinMesopotamia
CardsontheTable
MurderintheMewsandOtherStories
DumbWitness
DeathontheNile
AppointmentwithDeath
HerculePoirot’sChristmas
SadCypress
One,Two,BuckleMyShoe
EvilUndertheSun
FiveLittlePigs
TheHollow
TheLaborsofHercules
TakenattheFlood
TheUnderdogandOtherStories
Mrs.McGinty’sDead
AftertheFuneral
HickoryDickoryDock
DeadMan’sFolly
CatAmongthePigeons
TheClocks
ThirdGirl
Hallowe’enParty
ElephantsCanRemember
Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
Exploremoreatwww.AgathaChristie.com
TheAgathaChristieCollection
THEMISSMARPLEMYSTERIES
JointhelegendaryspinstersleuthfromSt.MaryMeadinsolvingmurdersfarandwide.
TheMurderattheVicarage
TheBodyintheLibrary
TheMovingFinger
AMurderIsAnnounced
TheyDoItwithMirrors
APocketFullofRye
4:50FromPaddington
TheMirrorCrack’d
ACaribbeanMystery
AtBertram’sHotel
Nemesis
SleepingMurder
MissMarple:TheCompleteShortStoryCollection
THETOMMYANDTUPPENCEMYSTERIES
Jumponboardwiththeentertainingcrime-solvingcouplefromYoungAdventurersLtd.
TheSecretAdversaryPartnersinCrimeNorM?BythePrickingofMyThumbsPosternofFate
Exploremoreatwww.AgathaChristie.com
TheAgathaChristieCollection
Don’tmissasingleoneofAgathaChristie’sstand-alonenovelsandshort-storycollections.
TheManintheBrownSuit
TheSecretofChimneys
TheSevenDialsMystery
TheMysteriousMr.Quin
TheSittafordMystery
ParkerPyneInvestigates
WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
MurderIsEasy
TheRegattaMysteryandOtherStories
AndThenThereWereNone
TowardsZero
DeathComesastheEnd
SparklingCyanide
TheWitnessfortheProsecutionandOtherStories
CrookedHouse
ThreeBlindMiceandOtherStories
TheyCametoBaghdad
DestinationUnknown
OrdealbyInnocence
DoubleSinandOtherStories
ThePaleHorse
StaroverBethlehem:PoemsandHolidayStories
EndlessNight
PassengertoFrankfurt
TheGoldenBallandOtherStories
TheMousetrapandOtherPlays
TheHarlequinTeaSet
Exploremoreatwww.AgathaChristie.com
AbouttheAuthor
AgathaChristieisthemostwidelypublishedauthorofalltimeandinanylanguage,outsoldonlybytheBibleandShakespeare.HerbookshavesoldmorethanabillioncopiesinEnglishandanotherbillioninahundredforeignlanguages.Sheistheauthorofeightycrimenovelsandshort-storycollections,nineteenplays,twomemoirs,andsixnovelswrittenunderthenameMaryWestmacott.
ShefirsttriedherhandatdetectivefictionwhileworkinginahospitaldispensaryduringWorldWarI,creatingthenowlegendaryHerculePoirotwithherdebutnovelTheMysteriousAffairatStyles.WithTheMurderintheVicarage,publishedin1930,sheintroducedanotherbelovedsleuth,MissJaneMarple.Additionalseriescharactersincludethehusband-and-wifecrime-fightingteamofTommyandTuppenceBeresford,privateinvestigatorParkerPyne,andScotlandYarddetectivesSuperintendentBattleandInspectorJapp.
ManyofChristie’snovelsandshortstorieswereadaptedintoplays,films,andtelevisionseries.TheMousetrap,hermostfamousplayofall,openedin1952andisthelongest-runningplayinhistory.Amongherbest-knownfilmadaptationsareMurderontheOrientExpress(1974)andDeathontheNile(1978),withAlbertFinneyandPeterUstinovplayingHerculePoirot,respectively.OnthesmallscreenPoirothasbeenmostmemorablyportrayedbyDavidSuchet,andMissMarplebyJoanHicksonandsubsequentlyGeraldineMcEwanandJuliaMcKenzie.
ChristiewasfirstmarriedtoArchibaldChristieandthentoarchaeologistSirMaxMallowan,whomsheaccompaniedonexpeditionstocountriesthatwouldalsoserveasthesettingsformanyofhernovels.In1971sheachievedoneofBritain’shighesthonorswhenshewasmadeaDameoftheBritishEmpire.Shediedin1976attheageofeighty-five.Heronehundredandtwentiethanniversarywascelebratedaroundtheworldin2010.
www.AgathaChristie.com
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THEAGATHACHRISTIECOLLECTION
TheManintheBrownSuit
TheSecretofChimneys
TheSevenDialsMystery
TheMysteriousMr.Quin
TheSittafordMystery
ParkerPyneInvestigates
WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
MurderIsEasy
TheRegattaMysteryandOtherStories
AndThenThereWereNone
TowardsZero
DeathComesastheEnd
SparklingCyanide
TheWitnessfortheProsecutionandOtherStories
CrookedHouse
ThreeBlindMiceandOtherStories
TheyCametoBaghdad
DestinationUnknown
OrdealbyInnocence
DoubleSinandOtherStories
ThePaleHorse
StaroverBethlehem:PoemsandHolidayStories
EndlessNight
PassengertoFrankfurt
TheGoldenBallandOtherStories
TheMousetrapandOtherPlays
TheHarlequinTeaSet
TheHerculePoirotMysteries
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles
TheMurderontheLinks
PoirotInvestigates
TheMurderofRogerAckroyd
TheBigFour
TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain
PerilatEndHouse
LordEdgwareDies
MurderontheOrientExpress
ThreeActTragedy
DeathintheClouds
TheA.B.C.Murders
MurderinMesopotamia
CardsontheTable
MurderintheMewsandOtherStories
DumbWitness
DeathontheNile
AppointmentwithDeath
HerculePoirot’sChristmas
SadCypress
One,Two,BuckleMyShoe
EvilUndertheSun
FiveLittlePigs
TheHollow
TheLaborsofHercules
TakenattheFlood
TheUnderdogandOtherStories
Mrs.McGinty’sDead
AftertheFuneral
HickoryDickoryDock
DeadMan’sFolly
CatAmongthePigeons
TheClocks
ThirdGirl
Hallowe’enParty
ElephantsCanRemember
Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
TheMissMarpleMysteries
TheMurderattheVicarage
TheBodyintheLibrary
TheMovingFinger
AMurderIsAnnounced
TheyDoItwithMirrors
APocketFullofRye
4:50fromPaddington
TheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSide
ACaribbeanMystery
AtBertram’sHotel
Nemesis
SleepingMurder
MissMarple:TheCompleteShortStories
TheTommyandTuppenceMysteries
TheSecretAdversary
PartnersinCrime
NorM?
BythePrickingofMyThumbsPosternofFate
Credits
CoverillustrationanddesignbySaraWood
Copyright
Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Thecharacters,incidents,anddialoguearedrawnfromtheauthor’simaginationandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualeventsorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
ThistitlewaspreviouslypublishedasWhatMrs.McGillicuddySaw!.
AGATHACHRISTIE?MARPLE?MISSMARPLE?4:50FROMPADDINGTON?.Copyright?2011AgathaChristieLimited(aChorioncompany).Allrightsreserved.4:50fromPaddingtonwasfirstpublishedin1957.
4:50FROMPADDINGTON?1957.PublishedbypermissionofG.P.Putnam’sSons,amemberofPenguinGroup(USA)Inc.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenonexclusive,nontransferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-bookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverse-engineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereinafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.