Miss Marple_ The Complete Short

Contents
Author’sForeword
FromTheThirteenProblems
1TheTuesdayNightClub
2TheIdolHouseofAstarte
3IngotsofGold
4TheBloodstainedPavement
5Motivev.Opportunity
6TheThumbmarkofSt.Peter
7TheBlueGeranium
8TheCompanion
9TheFourSuspects
10AChristmasTragedy
11TheHerbofDeath
12TheAffairattheBungalow
13DeathbyDrowning
FromTheRegattaMysteryandOtherStories
14MissMarpleTellsaStory
FromThreeBlindMiceandOtherStories
15StrangeJest
16TheCaseofthePerfectMaid
17TheCaseoftheCaretaker
18Tape-MeasureMurder
FromDoubleSinandOtherStories
19Greenshaw’sFolly
20Sanctuary
BackAd
AbouttheAuthor
TheAgathaChristieCollection
Credits
Copyright
AboutthePublisher
Author’sForewordtoTheThirteenProblems
TheseproblemswereMissMarple’sfirstintroductiontotheworldofdetectivestoryreaders.MissMarplehassomefaintaffinitywithmyowngrandmother,alsoapinkandwhiteprettyoldladywho,althoughhavingledthemostshelteredandVictorianoflives,neverthelessalwaysappearedtobeintimatelyacquaintedwithallthedepthsofhumandepravity.Onecouldbemadetofeelincrediblyna?veandcredulousbyherreproachfulremark:“Butdidyoubelievewhattheysaidtoyou?Youshouldn’tdothat.Ineverdo!”
IenjoyedwritingtheMissMarplestoriesverymuch,conceivedagreataffectionformyfluffyoldlady,andhopedthatshemightbeasuccess.Shewas.Afterthefirstsixstorieshadappeared,sixmorewererequested,MissMarplehaddefinitelycometostay.
Shehasappearednowinseveralbooksandalsoinaplay—andactuallyrivalsHerculePoirotinpopularity.Igetaboutanequalnumberofletters,onelotsaying:“IwishyouwouldalwayshaveMissMarpleandnotPoirot,”andtheother“IwishyouwouldhavePoirotandnotMissMarple.”Imyselfinclinetoherside.Ithink,thatsheisatherbestinthesolvingofshortproblems;theysuithermoreintimatestyle.Poirot,ontheotherhand,insistsonafull-lengthbooktodisplayhistalents.
TheseThirteenProblemscontain,Iconsider,therealessenceofMissMarpleforthosewholikeher.
Penguinedition,1953
One
THETUESDAYNIGHTCLUB
“Unsolvedmysteries.”
RaymondWestblewoutacloudofsmokeandrepeatedthewordswithakindofdeliberateself-consciouspleasure.
“Unsolvedmysteries.”
Helookedroundhimwithsatisfaction.Theroomwasanoldonewithbroadblackbeamsacrosstheceilinganditwasfurnishedwithgoodoldfurniturethatbelongedtoit.HenceRaymondWest’sapprovingglance.Byprofessionhewasawriterandhelikedtheatmospheretobeflawless.HisAuntJane’shousealwayspleasedhimastherightsettingfor
Mr.Petherickgavethedrylittlecoughwithwhichheusuallyprefacedhisremarks.
“Whatisthatyousay,Raymond?Unsolvedmysteries?Ha—andwhataboutthem?”
“Nothingaboutthem,”saidJoyceLemprière.“Raymondjustlikesthesoundofthewordsandofhimselfsayingthem.”
RaymondWestthrewheraglanceofreproachatwhichshethrewbackherheadandlaughed.
“Heisahumbug,isn’the,MissMarple?”shedemanded.“Youknowthat,Iamsure.”
MissMarplesmiledgentlyatherbutmadenoreply.
“Lifeitselfisanunsolvedmystery,”saidtheclergymangravely.
Raymondsatupinhischairandflungawayhiscigarettewithanimpulsivegesture.
“That’snotwhatImean.Iwasnottalkingphilosophy,”hesaid.“Iwasthinkingofactualbareprosaicfacts,thingsthathavehappenedandthatnoonehaseverexplained.”
“Iknowjustthesortofthingyoumean,dear,”saidMissMarple.“ForinstanceMrs.Carruthershadaverystrangeexperienceyesterdaymorning.SheboughttwogillsofpickedshrimpsatElliot’s.Shecalledattwoothershopsandwhenshegothomeshefoundshehadnotgottheshrimpswithher.Shewentbacktothetwoshopsshehadvisitedbuttheseshrimpshadcompletelydisappeared.Nowthatseemstomeveryremarkable.”
“Averyfishystory,”saidSirHenryClitheringgravely.
“Thereare,ofcourse,allkindsofpossibleexplanations,”saidMissMarple,hercheeksgrowingslightlypinkerwithexcitement.“Forinstance,somebodyelse—”
“MydearAunt,”saidRaymondWestwithsomeamusement,“Ididn’tmeanthatsortofvillageincident.Iwasthinkingofmurdersanddisappearances—thekindofthingthatSirHenrycouldtellusaboutbythehourifheliked.”
“ButInevertalkshop,”saidSirHenrymodestly.“No,Inevertalkshop.”
SirHenryClitheringhadbeenuntillatelyCommissionerofScotlandYard.
“Isupposetherearealotofmurdersandthingsthatneveraresolvedbythepolice,”saidJoyceLemprière.
“Thatisanadmittedfact,Ibelieve,”saidMr.Petherick.
“Iwonder,”saidRaymondWest,“whatclassofbrainreallysucceedsbestinunravellingamystery?Onealwaysfeelsthattheaveragepolicedetectivemustbehamperedbylackofimagination.”
“Thatisthelayman’spointofview,”saidSirHenrydryly.
“Youreallywantacommittee,”saidJoyce,smiling.“Forpsychologyandimaginationgotothewriter—”
ShemadeanironicalbowtoRaymondbutheremainedserious.
“Theartofwritinggivesoneaninsightintohumannature,”hesaidgravely.“Onesees,perhaps,motivesthattheordinarypersonwouldpassby.”
“Iknow,dear,”saidMissMarple,“thatyourbooksareveryclever.Butdoyouthinkthatpeoplearereallysounpleasantasyoumakethemouttobe?”
“MydearAunt,”saidRaymondgently,“keepyourbeliefs.HeavenforbidthatIshouldinanywayshatterthem.”
“Imean,”saidMissMarple,puckeringherbrowalittleasshecountedthestitchesinherknitting,“thatsomanypeopleseemtomenottobeeitherbadorgood,butsimply,youknow,verysilly.”
Mr.Petherickgavehisdrylittlecoughagain.
“Don’tyouthink,Raymond,”hesaid,“thatyouattachtoomuchweighttoimagination?Imaginationisaverydangerousthing,aswelawyersknowonlytoowell.Tobeabletosiftevidenceimpartially,totakethefactsandlookatthemasfacts—thatseemstometheonlylogicalmethodofarrivingatthetruth.Imayaddthatinmyexperienceitistheonlyonethatsucceeds.”
“Bah!”criedJoyce,flingingbackherblackheadindignantly.“IbetIcouldbeatyouallatthisgame.Iamnotonlyawoman—andsaywhatyoulike,womenhaveanintuitionthatisdeniedtomen—Iamanartistaswell.Iseethingsthatyoudon’t.Andthen,too,asanartistIhaveknockedaboutamongallsortsandconditionsofpeople.IknowlifeasdarlingMissMarpleherecannotpossiblyknowit.”
“Idon’tknowaboutthat,dear,”saidMissMarple.“Verypainfulanddistressingthingshappeninvillagessometimes.”
“MayIspeak?”saidDr.Pendersmiling.“Itisthefashionnowadaystodecrytheclergy,Iknow,butwehearthings,weknowasideofhumancharacterwhichisasealedbooktotheoutsideworld.”
“Well,”saidJoyce,“itseemstomeweareaprettyrepresentativegathering.HowwoulditbeifweformedaClub?Whatistoday?Tuesday?WewillcallitTheTuesdayNightClub.Itistomeeteveryweek,andeachmemberinturnhastopropoundaproblem.Somemysteryofwhichtheyhavepersonalknowledge,andtowhich,ofcourse,theyknowtheanswer.Letmesee,howmanyarewe?One,two,three,four,five.Weoughtreallytobesix.”
“Youhaveforgottenme,dear,”saidMissMarple,smilingbrightly.
Joycewasslightlytakenaback,butsheconcealedthefactquickly.
“Thatwouldbelovely,MissMarple,”shesaid.“Ididn’tthinkyouwouldcaretoplay.”
“Ithinkitwouldbeveryinteresting,”saidMissMarple,“especiallywithsomanyclevergentlemenpresent.IamafraidIamnotclevermyself,butlivingalltheseyearsinSt.MaryMeaddoesgiveoneaninsightintohumannature.”
“Iamsureyourcooperationwillbeveryvaluable,”saidSirHenry,courteously.
“Whoisgoingtostart?”saidJoyce.
“Ithinkthereisnodoubtastothat,”saidDr.Pender,“whenwehavethegreatgoodfortunetohavesuchadistinguishedmanasSirHenrystayingwithus—”
Helefthissentenceunfinished,makingacourtlybowinthedirectionofSirHenry.
Thelatterwassilentforaminuteortwo.Atlasthesighedandrecrossedhislegsandbegan:
“Itisalittledifficultformetoselectjustthekindofthingyouwant,butIthink,asithappens,Iknowofaninstancewhichfitstheseconditionsveryaptly.Youmayhaveseensomementionofthecaseinthepapersofayearago.Itwaslaidasideatthetimeasanunsolvedmystery,but,asithappens,thesolutioncameintomyhandsnotverymanydaysago.
“Thefactsareverysimple.Threepeoplesatdowntoasupperconsisting,amongstotherthings,oftinnedlobster.Laterinthenight,allthreeweretakenill,andadoctorwashastilysummoned.Twoofthepeoplerecovered,thethirdonedied.”
“Ah!”saidRaymondapprovingly.
“AsIsay,thefactsassuchwereverysimple.Deathwasconsideredtobeduetoptomainepoisoning,acertificatewasgiventothateffect,andthevictimwasdulyburied.Butthingsdidnotrestatthat.”
MissMarplenoddedherhead.
“Therewastalk,Isuppose,”shesaid,“thereusuallyis.”
“AndnowImustdescribetheactorsinthislittledrama.IwillcallthehusbandandwifeMr.andMrs.Jones,andthewife’scompanionMissClark.Mr.Joneswasatravellerforafirmofmanufacturingchemists.Hewasagood-lookingmaninakindofcoarse,floridway,agedaboutfifty.Hiswifewasarathercommonplacewoman,ofaboutforty-five
“Nowthebeginningofthetroublesaroseinaverycuriousway.Mr.JoneshadbeenstayingthepreviousnightatasmallcommercialhotelinBirmingham.Ithappenedthattheblottingpaperintheblottingbookhadbeenputinfreshthatday,andthechambermaid,havingapparentlynothingbettertodo,amusedherselfbystudyingtheblotterinthemirrorjustafterMr.Joneshadbeenwritingaletterthere.AfewdayslatertherewasareportinthepapersofthedeathofMrs.Jonesastheresultofeatingtinnedlobster,andthechambermaidthenimpartedtoherfellowservantsthewordsthatshehaddecipheredontheblottingpad.Theywereasfollows:Entirelydependentonmywife…whensheisdeadIwill…hundredsandthousands.
“Youmayrememberthattherehadrecentlybeenacaseofawifebeingpoisonedbyherhusband.Itneededverylittletofiretheimaginationofthesemaids.Mr.Joneshadplannedtodoawaywithhiswifeandinherithundredsofthousandsofpounds!AsithappenedoneofthemaidshadrelationslivinginthesmallmarkettownwheretheJonesesresided.Shewrotetothem,andtheyinreturnwrotetoher.Mr.Jones,itseemed,hadbeenveryattentivetothelocaldoctor’sdaughter,agood-lookingyoungwomanofthirty-three.Scandalbegantohum.TheHomeSecretarywaspetitioned.NumerousanonymousletterspouredintoScotlandYardallaccusingMr.Jonesofhavingmurderedhiswife.NowImaysaythatnotforonemomentdidwethinktherewasanythinginitexceptidlevillagetalkandgossip.Nevertheless,toquietpublicopinionanexhumationorderwasgranted.Itwasoneofthesecasesofpopularsuperstitionbasedonnothingsolidwhatever,whichprovedtobesosurprisinglyjustified.Asaresultoftheautopsysufficientarsenicwasfoundtomakeitquiteclearthatthedeceasedladyhaddiedofarsenicalpoisoning.ItwasforScotlandYardworkingwiththelocalauthoritiestoprovehowthatarsenichadbeenadministered,andbywhom.”
“Ah!”saidJoyce.“Ilikethis.Thisistherealstuff.”
“Suspicionnaturallyfellonthehusband.Hebenefitedbyhiswife’sdeath.Nottotheextentofthehundredsofthousandsromanticallyimaginedbythehotelchambermaid,buttotheverysolidamountof￡8000.Hehadnomoneyofhisownapartfromwhatheearned,andhewasamanofsomewhatextravaganthabitswithapartialityforthesocietyofwomen.Weinvestigatedasdelicatelyaspossibletherumourofhisattachmenttothedoctor’sdaughter;butwhileitseemedclearthattherehadbeenastrongfriendshipbetweenthematonetime,therehadbeenamostabruptbreaktwomonthspreviously,andtheydidnotappeartohaveseeneachothersince.Thedoctorhimself,anelderlymanofastraightforwardandunsuspicioustype,wasdumbfoundedattheresultoftheautopsy.Hehadbeencalledinaboutmidnighttofindallthreepeoplesuffering.HehadrealizedimmediatelytheseriousconditionofMrs.Jones,andhadsentbacktohisdispensaryforsomeopiumpills,toallaythepain.Inspiteofallhisefforts,however,shesuccumbed,butnotforamomentdidhesuspectthatanythingwasamiss.Hewasconvincedthatherdeathwasduetoaformofbotulism.Supperthatnighthadconsistedoftinnedlobsterandsalad,trifleandbreadandcheese.Unfortunatelynoneofthelobsterremained—ithadallbeeneatenandthetinthrownaway.Hehadinterrogatedtheyoungmaid,GladysLinch.Shewasterriblyupset,verytearfulandagitated,andhefoundithardtogethertokeeptothepoint,butshedeclaredagainandagainthatthetinhadnotbeendistendedinanywayandthatthelobsterhadappearedtoherinaperfectlygoodcondition.
“Suchwerethefactswehadtogoupon.IfJoneshadfeloniouslyadministeredarsenictohiswife,itseemedclearthatitcouldnothavebeendoneinanyofthethingseatenatsupper,asallthreepersonshadpartakenofthemeal.Also—anotherpoint—JoneshimselfhadreturnedfromBirminghamjustassupperwasbeingbroughtintotable,sothathewouldhavehadnoopportunityofdoctoringanyofthefoodbeforehand.”
“Whataboutthecompanion?”askedJoyce—“thestoutwomanwiththegood-humouredface.”
SirHenrynodded.
“WedidnotneglectMissClark,Icanassureyou.Butitseemeddoubtfulwhatmotiveshecouldhavehadforthecrime.Mrs.Joneslefthernolegacyofanykindandthenetresultofheremployer’sdeathwasthatshehadtoseekforanothersituation.”
“Thatseemstoleaveheroutofit,”saidJoycethoughtfully.
“Nowoneofmyinspectorssoondiscoveredasignificantfact,”wentonSirHenry.“AftersupperonthateveningMr.Joneshadgonedowntothekitchenandhaddemandedabowlofcornflourforhiswifewhohadcomplainedofnotfeelingwell.HehadwaitedinthekitchenuntilGladysLinchpreparedit,andthencarriedituptohiswife’sroomhimself.That,Iadmit,seemedtoclinchthecase.”
Thelawyernodded.
“Motive,”hesaid,tickingthepointsoffonhisfingers.“Opportunity.Asatravellerforafirmofdruggists,easyaccesstothepoison.”
“Andamanofweakmoralfibre,”saidtheclergyman.
RaymondWestwasstaringatSirHenry.
“Thereisacatchinthissomewhere,”hesaid.“Whydidyounotarresthim?”
SirHenrysmiledratherwryly.
“Thatistheunfortunatepartofthecase.Sofarallhadgoneswimmingly,butnowwecometothesnags.JoneswasnotarrestedbecauseoninterrogatingMissClarkshetoldusthatthewholeofthebowlofcornflourwasdrunknotbyMrs.Jonesbutbyher.
“Yes,itseemsthatshewenttoMrs.Jones’sroomaswashercustom.Mrs.Joneswassittingupinbedandthebowlofcornflourwasbesideher.
“‘Iamnotfeelingabitwell,Milly,’shesaid.‘Servesmeright,Isuppose,fortouchinglobsteratnight.IaskedAlberttogetmeabowlofcornflour,butnowthatIhavegotitIdon’tseemtofancyit.’
“‘Apity,’commentedMissClark—‘itisnicelymadetoo,nolumps.Gladysisreallyquiteanicecook.Veryfewgirlsnowadaysseemtobeabletomakeabowlofcornflournicely.IdeclareIquitefancyitmyself,Iamthathungry.’
“‘Ishouldthinkyouwerewithyourfoolishways,’saidMrs.Jones.
“Imustexplain,”brokeoffSirHenry,“thatMissClark,alarmedatherincreasingstoutness,wasdoingacourseofwhatispopularlyknownas‘banting.’
“‘Itisnotgoodforyou,Milly,itreallyisn’t,’urgedMrs.Jones.‘IftheLordmadeyoustouthemeantyoutobestout.Youdrinkupthatbowlofcornflour.Itwilldoyouallthegoodintheworld.’
“AndstraightawayMissClarksettoanddidinactualfactfinishthebowl.So,yousee,thatknockedourcaseagainstthehusbandtopieces.AskedforanexplanationofthewordsontheblottingbookJonesgaveonereadilyenough.Theletter,heexplained,wasinanswertoonewrittenfromhisbrotherinAustraliawhohadappliedtohimformoney.Hehadwritten,pointingoutthathewasentirelydependentonhiswife.Whenhiswifewasdeadhewouldhavecontrolofmoneyandwouldassisthisbrotherifpossible.Heregrettedhisinabilitytohelpbutpointedoutthattherewerehundredsandthousandsofpeopleintheworldinthesameunfortunateplight.”
“Andsothecasefelltopieces?”saidDr.Pender.
“Andsothecasefelltopieces,”saidSirHenrygravely.“WecouldnottaketheriskofarrestingJoneswithnothingtogoupon.”
TherewasasilenceandthenJoycesaid,“Andthatisall,isit?”
“Thatisthecaseasithasstoodforthelastyear.ThetruesolutionisnowinthehandsofScotlandYard,andintwoorthreedays’timeyouwillprobablyreadofitinthenewspapers.”
“Thetruesolution,”saidJoycethoughtfully.“Iwonder.Let’sallthinkforfiveminutesandthenspeak.”
RaymondWestnoddedandnotedthetimeonhiswatch.WhenthefiveminuteswereuphelookedoveratDr.Pender.
“Willyouspeakfirst?”hesaid.
Theoldmanshookhishead.“Iconfess,”hesaid,“thatIamutterlybaffled.Icanbutthinkthatthehusbandinsomewaymustbetheguiltyparty,buthowhediditIcannotimagine.Icanonlysuggestthathemusthavegivenherthepoisoninsomewaythathasnotyetbeendiscovered,althoughhowinthatcaseitshouldhavecometolightafterallthistimeIcannotimagine.”
“Joyce?”
“Thecompanion!”saidJoycedecidedly.“Thecompanioneverytime!Howdoweknowwhatmotiveshemayhavehad?Justbecauseshewasoldandstoutanduglyitdoesn’tfollowthatshewasn’tinlovewithJonesherself.Shemayhavehatedthewifeforsomeotherreason.Thinkofbeingacompanion—alwayshavingtobepleasantandagreeandstifleyourselfandbottleyourselfup.Onedayshecouldn’tbearitanylongerandthenshekilledher.Sheprobablyputthearsenicinthebowlofcornflourandallthatstoryabouteatingitherselfisalie.”
“Mr.Petherick?”
Thelawyerjoinedthetipsofhisfingerstogetherprofessionally.“Ishouldhardlyliketosay.OnthefactsIshouldhardlyliketosay.”
“Butyouhavegotto,Mr.Petherick,”saidJoyce.“Youcan’treservejudgementandsay‘withoutprejudice,’andbelegal.Youhavegottoplaythegame.”
“Onthefacts,”saidMr.Petherick,“thereseemsnothingtobesaid.Itismyprivateopinion,havingseen,alas,toomanycasesofthiskind,thatthehusbandwasguilty.TheonlyexplanationthatwillcoverthefactsseemstobethatMissClarkforsomereasonorotherdeliberatelyshelteredhim.Theremayhavebeensomefinancialarrangementmadebetweenthem.Hemightrealizethathewouldbesuspected,andshe,seeingonlyafutureofpovertybeforeher,mayhaveagreedtotellthestoryofdrinkingthecornflourinreturnforasubstantialsumtobepaidtoherprivately.Ifthatwasthecaseitwasofcoursemostirregular.Mostirregularindeed.”
“Idisagreewithyouall,”saidRaymond.“Youhaveforgottentheoneimportantfactorinthecase.Thedoctor’sdaughter.Iwillgiveyoumyreadingofthecase.Thetinnedlobsterwasbad.Itaccountedforthepoisoningsymptoms.Thedoctorwassentfor.HefindsMrs.Jones,whohaseatenmorelobsterthantheothers,ingreatpain,andhesends,asyoutoldus,forsomeopiumpills.Hedoesnotgohimself,hesends.Whowillgivethemessengertheopiumpills?Clearlyhisdaughter.Verylikelyshedispenseshismedicinesforhim.SheisinlovewithJonesandatthismomentalltheworstinstinctsinhernatureriseandsherealizesthatthemeanstoprocurehisfreedomareinherhands.Thepillsshesendscontainpurewhitearsenic.Thatismysolution.”
“Andnow,SirHenry,tellus,”saidJoyceeagerly.
“Onemoment,”saidSirHenry.“MissMarplehasnotyetspoken.”
MissMarplewasshakingherheadsadly.
“Dear,dear,”shesaid.“Ihavedroppedanotherstitch.Ihavebeensointerestedinthestory.Asadcase,averysadcase.ItremindsmeofoldMr.HargraveswholivedupattheMount.Hiswifeneverhadtheleastsuspicion—untilhedied,leavingallhismoneytoawomanhehadbeenlivingwithandbywhomhehadfivechildren.Shehadatonetimebeentheirhousemaid.Suchanicegirl,Mrs.Hargravesalwayssaid—thoroughlytobereliedupontoturnthemattresseseveryday—exceptFridays,ofcourse.AndtherewasoldHargraveskeepingthiswomaninahouseintheneighbouringtownandcontinuingtobeaChurchwardenandtohandroundtheplateeverySunday.”
“MydearAuntJane,”saidRaymondwithsomeimpatience.“WhathasdeadandgoneHargravesgottodowiththecase?”
“Thisstorymademethinkofhimatonce,”saidMissMarple.“Thefactsaresoveryalike,aren’tthey?Isupposethepoorgirlhasconfessednowandthatishowyouknow,SirHenry.”
“Whatgirl?”saidRaymond.“MydearAunt,whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Thatpoorgirl,GladysLinch,ofcourse—theonewhowassoterriblyagitatedwhenthedoctorspoketoher—andwellshemightbe,poorthing.IhopethatwickedJonesishanged,Iamsure,makingthatpoorgirlamurderess.Isupposetheywillhanghertoo,poorthing.”
“Ithink,MissMarple,thatyouareunderaslightmisapprehension,”beganMr.Petherick.
ButMissMarpleshookherheadobstinatelyandlookedacrossatSirHenry.
“Iamright,amInot?Itseemssocleartome.Thehundredsandthousands—andthetrifle—Imean,onecannotmissit.”
“Whataboutthetrifleandthehundredsandthousands?”criedRaymond.
Hisauntturnedtohim.
“Cooksnearlyalwaysputhundredsandthousandsontrifle,dear,”shesaid.“Thoselittlepinkandwhitesugarthings.OfcoursewhenIheardthattheyhadtrifleforsupperandthatthehusbandhadbeenwritingtosomeoneabouthundredsandthousands,Inaturallyconnectedthetwothingstogether.Thatiswherethearsenicwas—inthehundredsandthousands.Heleftitwiththegirlandtoldhertoputitonthetrifle.”
“Butthatisimpossible,”saidJoycequickly.“Theyallatethetrifle.”
“Oh,no,”saidMissMarple.“Thecompanionwasbanting,youremember.Younevereatanythingliketrifleifyouarebanting;andIexpectJonesjustscrapedthehundredsandthousandsoffhisshareandleftthematthesideofhisplate.Itwasacleveridea,butaverywickedone.”
TheeyesoftheotherswereallfixeduponSirHenry.
“Itisaverycuriousthing,”hesaidslowly,“butMissMarplehappenstohavehituponthetruth.JoneshadgotGladysLinchintotrouble,asthesayinggoes.Shewasnearlydesperate.HewantedhiswifeoutofthewayandpromisedtomarryGladyswhenhiswifewasdead.Hedoctoredthehundredsandthousandsandgavethemtoherwithinstructionshowtousethem.GladysLinchdiedaweekago.HerchilddiedatbirthandJoneshaddesertedherforanotherwoman.Whenshewasdyingsheconfessedthetruth.”
Therewasafewmoments’silenceandthenRaymondsaid:
“Well,AuntJane,thisisoneuptoyou.Ican’tthinkhowonearthyoumanagedtohituponthetruth.Ishouldneverhavethoughtofthelittlemaidinthekitchenbeingconnectedwiththecase.”
“No,dear,”saidMissMarple,“butyoudon’tknowasmuchoflifeasIdo.AmanofthatJones’stype—coarseandjovial.AssoonasIheardtherewasaprettyyounggirlinthehouseIfeltsurethathewouldnothaveleftheralone.Itisallverydistressingandpainful,andnotaverynicethingtotalkabout.Ican’ttellyoutheshockitwastoMrs.Hargraves,andaninedays’wonderinthevillage.”
Two
THEIDOLHOUSEOFASTARTE
“Andnow,Dr.Pender,whatareyougoingtotellus?”
Theoldclergymansmiledgently.
“Mylifehasbeenpassedinquietplaces,”hesaid.“Veryfeweventfulhappeningshavecomemyway.Yetonce,whenIwasayoungman,Ihadoneverystrangeandtragicexperience.”
“Ah!”saidJoyceLemprièreencouragingly.
“Ihaveneverforgottenit,”continuedtheclergyman.“Itmadeaprofoundimpressiononmeatthetime,andtothisdaybyaslighteffortofmemoryIcanfeelagaintheaweandhorrorofthatterriblemomentwhenIsawamanstrickentodeathbyapparentlynomortalagency.”
“Youmakemefeelquitecreepy,Pender,”complainedSirHenry.
“Itmademefeelcreepy,asyoucallit,”repliedtheother.“SincethenIhaveneverlaughedatthepeoplewhousethewordatmosphere.Thereissuchathing.Therearecertainplacesimbuedandsaturatedwithgoodorevilinfluenceswhichcanmaketheirpowerfelt.”
“Thathouse,TheLarches,isaveryunhappyone,”remarkedMissMarple.“OldMr.Smitherslostallhismoneyandhadtoleaveit,thentheCarslakestookitandJohnnyCarslakefelldownstairsandbrokehislegandMrs.CarslakehadtogoawaytothesouthofFranceforherhealth,andnowtheBurdenshavegotitandIhearthatpoorMr.Burdenhasgottohaveanoperationalmostimmediately.”
“Thereis,Ithink,rathertoomuchsuperstitionaboutsuchmatters,”saidMr.Petherick.“Alotofdamageisdonetopropertybyfoolishreportsheedlesslycirculated.”
“Ihaveknownoneortwo‘ghosts’thathavehadaveryrobustpersonality,”remarkedSirHenrywithachuckle.
“Ithink,”saidRaymond,“weshouldallowDr.Pendertogoonwithhisstory.”
Joycegotupandswitchedoffthetwolamps,leavingtheroomlitonlybytheflickeringfirelight.
“Atmosphere,”shesaid.“Nowwecangetalong.”
Dr.Pendersmiledather,andleaningbackinhischairandtakingoffhispince-nez,hebeganhisstoryinagentlereminiscentvoice.
“Idon’tknowwhetheranyofyouknowDartmooratall.TheplaceIamtellingyouaboutissituatedonthebordersofDartmoor.Itwasaverycharmingproperty,thoughithadbeenonthemarketwithoutfindingapurchaserforseveralyears.Thesituationwasperhapsalittlebleakinwinter,buttheviewsweremagnificentandtherewerecertaincuriousandoriginalfeaturesaboutthepropertyitself.ItwasboughtbyamancalledHaydon—SirRichardHaydon.Ihadknownhiminhiscollegedays,andthoughIhadlostsightofhimforsomeyears,theoldtiesoffriendshipstillheld,andIacceptedwithpleasurehisinvitationtogodowntoSilentGrove,ashisnewpurchasewascalled.
“Thehousepartywasnotaverylargeone.TherewasRichardHaydonhimself,andhiscousin,ElliotHaydon.TherewasaLadyManneringwithapale,ratherinconspicuousdaughtercalledViolet.TherewasaCaptainRogersandhiswife,hardriding,weatherbeatenpeople,wholivedonlyforhorsesandhunting.TherewasalsoayoungDr.SymondsandtherewasMissDianaAshley.Iknewsomethingaboutthelastnamed.HerpicturewasveryoftenintheSocietypapersandshewasoneofthenotoriousbeautiesoftheSeason.Herappearancewasindeedverystriking.Shewasdarkandtall,withabeautifulskinofaneventintofpalecream,andherhalfcloseddarkeyessetslantwaysinherheadgaveheracuriouslypiquantorientalappearance.Shehad,too,awonderfulspeakingvoice,deep-tonedandbell-like.
“IsawatoncethatmyfriendRichardHaydonwasverymuchattractedbyher,andIguessedthatthewholepartywasmerelyarrangedasasettingforher.OfherownfeelingsIwasnotsosure.Shewascapriciousinherfavours.OnedaytalkingtoRichardandexcludingeveryoneelsefromhernotice,andanotherdayshewouldfavourhiscousin,Elliot,andappearhardlytonoticethatsuchapersonasRichardexisted,andthenagainshewouldbestowthemostbewitchingsmilesuponthequietandretiringDr.Symonds.
“Onthemorningaftermyarrivalourhostshowedusallovertheplace.Thehouseitselfwasunremarkable,agoodsolidhousebuiltofDevonshiregranite.Builttowithstandtimeandexposure.Itwasunromanticbutverycomfortable.FromthewindowsofitonelookedoutoverthepanoramaoftheMoor,vastrollinghillscrownedwithweather-beatenTors.
“OntheslopesoftheTornearesttouswerevarioushutcircles,relicsofthebygonedaysofthelateStoneAge.Onanotherhillwasabarrowwhichhadrecentlybeenexcavated,andinwhichcertainbronzeimplementshadbeenfound.Haydonwasbywayofbeinginterestedinantiquarianmattersandhetalkedtouswithagreatdealofenergyandenthusiasm.Thisparticularspot,heexplained,wasparticularlyrichinrelicsofthepast.
“Neolithichutdwellers,Druids,Romans,andeventracesoftheearlyPhoeniciansweretobefound.
“‘Butthisplaceisthemostinterestingofall,’hesaid‘Youknowitsname—SilentGrove.Well,itiseasyenoughtoseewhatittakesitsnamefrom.’
“Hepointedwithhishand.Thatparticularpartofthecountrywasbareenough—rocks,heatherandbracken,butaboutahundredyardsfromthehousetherewasadenselyplantedgroveoftrees.
“‘Thatisarelicofveryearlydays,’saidHaydon,‘Thetreeshavediedandbeenreplanted,butonthewholeithasbeenkeptverymuchasitusedtobe—perhapsinthetimeofthePhoeniciansettlers.Comeandlookatit.’
“Weallfollowedhim.Asweenteredthegroveoftreesacuriousoppressioncameoverme.Ithinkitwasthesilence.Nobirdsseemedtonestinthesetrees.Therewasafeelingaboutitofdesolationandhorror.IsawHaydonlookingatmewithacurioussmile.
“‘Anyfeelingaboutthisplace,Pender?’heaskedme.‘Antagonismnow?Oruneasiness?’
“‘Idon’tlikeit,’Isaidquietly.
“‘Youarewithinyourrights.Thiswasastrongholdofoneoftheancientenemiesofyourfaith.ThisistheGroveofAstarte.’
“‘Astarte?’
“‘Astarte,orIshtar,orAshtoreth,orwhateveryouchoosetocallher.IpreferthePhoeniciannameofAstarte.Thereis,Ibelieve,oneknownGroveofAstarteinthiscountry—intheNorthontheWall.Ihavenoevidence,butIliketobelievethatwehaveatrueandauthenticGroveofAstartehere.Here,withinthisdensecircleoftrees,sacredriteswereperformed.’
“‘Sacredrites,’murmuredDianaAshley.Hereyeshadadreamyfarawaylook.‘Whatwerethey,Iwonder?’
“‘Notveryreputablebyallaccounts,’saidCaptainRogerswithaloudunmeaninglaugh.‘Ratherhotstuff,Iimagine.’
“Haydonpaidnoattentiontohim.
“‘InthecentreoftheGrovethereshouldbeaTemple,’hesaid.‘Ican’truntoTemples,butIhaveindulgedinalittlefancyofmyown.’
“Wehadatthatmomentsteppedoutintoalittleclearinginthecentreofthetrees.Inthemiddleofitwassomethingnotunlikeasummerhousemadeofstone.DianaAshleylookedinquiringlyatHaydon.
“‘IcallitTheIdolHouse,’hesaid.‘ItistheIdolHouseofAstarte.’
“Heledthewayuptoit.Inside,onarudeebonypillar,therereposedacuriouslittleimagerepresentingawomanwithcrescenthorns,seatedonalion.
“‘AstarteofthePhoenicians,’saidHaydon,‘theGoddessoftheMoon.’
“‘TheGoddessoftheMoon,’criedDiana.‘Oh,doletushaveawildorgytonight.Fancydress.AndwewillcomeouthereinthemoonlightandcelebratetheritesofAstarte.’
“ImadeasuddenmovementandElliotHaydon,Richard’scousin,turnedquicklytome.
“‘Youdon’tlikeallthis,doyou,Padre?’hesaid.
“‘No,’Isaidgravely.‘Idon’t.’
“Helookedatmecuriously.‘Butitisonlytomfoolery.Dickcan’tknowthatthisreallyisasacredgrove.Itisjustafancyofhis;helikestoplaywiththeidea.Andanyway,ifitwere—’
“‘Ifitwere?’
“‘Well—’helaugheduncomfortably.‘Youdon’tbelieveinthatsortofthing,doyou?You,aparson.’
“‘IamnotsurethatasaparsonIoughtnottobelieveinit.’
“‘Butthatsortofthingisallfinishedanddonewith.’
“‘Iamnotsosure,’Isaidmusingly.‘Ionlyknowthis:Iamnotasaruleasensitivemantoatmosphere,buteversinceIenteredthisgroveoftreesIhavefeltacuriousimpressionandsenseofevilandmenaceallroundme.’
“Heglanceduneasilyoverhisshoulder
“Yes,’hesaid,‘itis—itisqueer,somehow.IknowwhatyoumeanbutIsupposeitisonlyourimaginationmakesusfeellikethat.Whatdoyousay,Symonds?’
“Thedoctorwassilentaminuteortwobeforehereplied.Thenhesaidquietly:
“‘Idon’tlikeit.Ican’ttellyouwhy.Butsomehoworother,Idon’tlikeit.’
“AtthatmomentVioletManneringcameacrosstome.
“‘Ihatethisplace,’shecried.‘Ihateit.Dolet’sgetoutofit.’
“Wemovedawayandtheothersfollowedus.OnlyDianaAshleylingered.IturnedmyheadovermyshoulderandsawherstandinginfrontoftheIdolHousegazingearnestlyattheimagewithinit.
“ThedaywasanunusuallyhotandbeautifuloneandDianaAshley’ssuggestionofaFancyDresspartythateveningwasreceivedwithgeneralfavour.Theusuallaughingandwhisperingandfrenziedsecretsewingtookplaceandwhenweallmadeourappearancefordinnerthereweretheusualoutcriesofmerriment.RogersandhiswifewereNeolithichut
“‘TheUnknown,’shedeclaredairily.‘ThatiswhatIam.Nowforgoodness’sakelet’sgointodinner.’
“Afterdinnerwewentoutside.Itwasalovelynight,warmandsoft,andthemoonwasrising.
“Wewanderedaboutandchattedandthetimepassedquicklyenough.ItmusthavebeenanhourlaterwhenwerealizedthatDianaAshleywasnotwithus.
“‘Surelyshehasnotgonetobed,’saidRichardHaydon.
“VioletManneringshookherhead.
“‘Oh,no,’shesaid.‘Isawhergoingoffinthatdirectionaboutaquarterofanhourago.’Shepointedasshespoketowardsthegroveoftreesthatshowedblackandshadowyinthemoonlight.
“‘Iwonderwhatsheisupto,’saidRichardHaydon,‘somedevilment,Iswear.Let’sgoandsee.’
“Wealltroopedofftogether,somewhatcuriousastowhatMissAshleyhadbeenupto.YetI,forone,feltacuriousreluctancetoenterthatdarkforebodingbeltoftrees.Somethingstrongerthanmyselfseemedtobeholdingmebackandurgingmenottoenter.Ifeltmoredefinitelyconvincedthaneveroftheessentialevilnessofthespot.IthinkthatsomeoftheothersexperiencedthesamesensationsthatIdid,thoughtheywouldhavebeenloathtoadmitit.Thetreesweresocloselyplantedthatthemoonlightcouldnotpenetrate.Therewereadozensoftsoundsallroundus,whisperingsandsighings.Thefeelingwaseerieintheextreme,andbycommonconsentweallkeptclosetogether.
“Suddenlywecameoutintotheopenclearinginthemiddleofthegroveandstoodrootedtothespotinamazement,forthere,onthethresholdoftheIdolHouse,stoodashimmeringfigurewrappedtightlyroundindiaphanousgauzeandwithtwocrescenthornsrisingfromthedarkmassesofherhair.
“‘MyGod!’saidRichardHaydon,andthesweatsprangoutonhisbrow.
“ButVioletManneringwassharper.
“‘Why,it’sDiana,’sheexclaimed.‘Whathasshedonetoherself?Oh,shelooksquitedifferentsomehow!’
“Thefigureinthedoorwayraisedherhands.Shetookastepforwardandchantedinahighsweetvoice.
“‘IamthePriestessofAstarte,’shecrooned.‘Bewarehowyouapproachme,forIholddeathinmyhand.’
“‘Don’tdoit,dear,’protestedLadyMannering.‘Yougiveusthecreeps,youreallydo.’
“Haydonsprangforwardtowardsher.
“‘MyGod,Diana!’hecried.‘Youarewonderful.’
“MyeyeswereaccustomedtothemoonlightnowandIcouldseemoreplainly.Shedid,indeed,asViolethadsaid,lookquitedifferent.Herfacewasmoredefinitelyoriental,andhereyesmoreofslitswithsomethingcruelintheirgleam,andthestrangesmileonherlipswasonethatIhadneverseentherebefore.
“‘Beware,’shecriedwarningly.‘DonotapproachtheGoddess.Ifanyonelaysahandonmeitisdeath.’
“‘Youarewonderful,Diana,’criedHaydon,‘butdostopit.SomehoworotherI—Idon’tlikeit.’
“Hewasmovingtowardsheracrossthegrassandsheflungoutahandtowardshim.
“‘Stop,’shecried.‘OnestepnearerandIwillsmiteyouwiththemagicofAstarte.’
“RichardHaydonlaughedandquickenedhispace,whenallatonceacuriousthinghappened.Hehesitatedforamoment,thenseemedtostumbleandfallheadlong.
“Hedidnotgetupagain,butlaywherehehadfallenproneontheground.
“SuddenlyDianabegantolaughhysterically.Itwasastrangehorriblesoundbreakingthesilenceoftheglade.
“WithanoathElliotsprangforward.
“‘Ican’tstandthis,’hecried,‘getup,Dick,getup,man.’
“ButstillRichardHaydonlaywherehehadfallen.ElliotHaydonreachedhisside,kneltbyhimandturnedhimgentlyover.Hebentoverhim,peeringinhisface.
“Thenherosesharplytohisfeetandstoodswayingalittle.
“‘Doctor,’hesaid.‘Doctor,forGod’ssakecome.I—Ithinkheisdead.’
“SymondsranforwardandElliotrejoineduswalkingveryslowly.HewaslookingdownathishandsinawayIdidn’tunderstand.
“AtthatmomenttherewasawildscreamfromDiana.
“‘Ihavekilledhim,’shecried.‘Oh,myGod!Ididn’tmeanto,butIhavekilledhim.’
“Andshefainteddeadaway,fallinginacrumpledheaponthegrass.
“TherewasacryfromMrs.Rogers.
“‘Oh,doletusgetawayfromthisdreadfulplace,’shewailed,‘anythingmighthappentoushere.Oh,it’sawful!’
“Elliotgotholdofmebytheshoulder
“‘Itcan’tbe,man,’hemurmured.‘Itellyouitcan’tbe.Amancannotbekilledlikethat.Itis—it’sagainstNature.’
“Itriedtosoothehim.
“‘Thereissomeexplanation,’Isaid.‘Yourcousinmusthavehadsomeunsuspectedweaknessoftheheart.Theshockandexcitement—’
“Heinterruptedme.
“‘Youdon’tunderstand,’hesaid.HehelduphishandsformetoseeandInoticedaredstainonthem.
“‘Dickdidn’tdieofshock,hewasstabbed—stabbedtotheheart,andthereisnoweapon.’
“Istaredathimincredulously.AtthatmomentSymondsrosefromhisexaminationofthebodyandcametowardsus.Hewaspaleandshakingallover.
“‘Areweallmad?’hesaid.‘Whatisthisplace—thatthingslikethiscanhappeninit?’
“‘Thenitistrue,’Isaid.
“Henodded.
“‘Thewoundissuchaswouldbemadebyalongthindagger,but—thereisnodaggerthere.’
“Wealllookedateachother.
“‘Butitmustbethere,’criedElliotHaydon.‘Itmusthavedroppedout.Itmustbeonthegroundsomewhere.Letuslook.’
“Wepeeredaboutvainlyontheground.VioletManneringsaidsuddenly:
“‘Dianahadsomethinginherhand.Akindofdagger.Isawit.Isawitglitterwhenshethreatenedhim.’
“ElliotHaydonshookhishead.
“‘Heneverevengotwithinthreeyardsofher,’heobjected.
“LadyManneringwasbendingovertheprostrategirlontheground.
“‘Thereisnothinginherhandnow,’sheannounced,‘andIcan’tseeanythingontheground.Areyousureyousawit,Violet?Ididn’t.’
“Dr.Symondscameovertothegirl.
“‘Wemustgethertothehouse,’hesaid.‘Rogers,willyouhelp?’
“Betweenuswecarriedtheunconsciousgirlbacktothehouse.ThenwereturnedandfetchedthebodyofSirRichard.”
Dr.Penderbrokeoffapologeticallyandlookedround.
“Onewouldknowbetternowadays,”hesaid,“owingtotheprevalenceofdetectivefiction.Everystreetboyknowsthatabodymustbeleftwhereitisfound.Butinthesedayswehadnotthesameknowledge,andaccordinglywecarriedthebodyofRichardHaydonbacktohisbedroominthesquaregranitehouseandthebutlerwasdespatchedonabicycleinsearchofthepolice—arideofsometwelvemiles.
“ItwasthenthatElliotHaydondrewmeaside.
“‘Lookhere,’hesaid.‘Iamgoingbacktothegrove.Thatweaponhasgottobefound.’
“‘Iftherewasaweapon,’Isaiddoubtfully.
“Heseizedmyarmandshookitfiercely.‘Youhavegotthatsuperstitiousstuffintoyourhead.Youthinkhisdeathwassupernatural;well,Iamgoingbacktothegrovetofindout.’
“Iwascuriouslyaversetohisdoingso.Ididmyutmosttodissuadehim,butwithoutresult.ThemereideaofthatthickcircleoftreeswasabhorrenttomeandIfeltastrongpremonitionoffurtherdisaster.ButElliotwasentirelypigheaded.Hewas,Ithink,scaredhimself,butwouldnotadmitit.Hewentofffullyarmedwithdeterminationtogettothebottomofthemystery.
“Itwasaverydreadfulnight,noneofuscouldsleep,orattempttodoso.Thepolice,whentheyarrived,werefranklyincredulousofthewholething.Theyevincedastrongdesiretocross-examineMissAshley,buttheretheyhadtoreckonwithDr.Symonds,whoopposedtheideavehemently.MissAshleyhadcomeoutofherfaintortranceandhehadgivenheralongsleepingdraught.Shewasonnoaccounttobedisturbeduntilthefollowingday.
“Itwasnotuntilaboutseveno’clockinthemorningthatanyonethoughtaboutElliotHaydon,andthenSymondssuddenlyaskedwherehewas.IexplainedwhatElliothaddoneandSymonds’sgravefacegrewashadegraver.‘Iwishhehadn’t.Itis—itisfoolhardy,’hesaid.
“‘Youdon’tthinkanyharmcanhavehappenedtohim?’
“‘Ihopenot.Ithink,Padre,thatyouandIhadbettergoandsee.’
“Iknewhewasright,butittookallthecourageinmycommandtonervemyselfforthetask.Wesetouttogetherandenteredoncemorethatill-fatedgroveoftrees.Wecalledhimtwiceandgotnoreply.Inaminuteortwowecameintotheclearing,whichlookedpaleandghostlyintheearlymorninglight.SymondsclutchedmyarmandIutteredamutteredexclamation.Lastnightwhenwehadseenitinthemoonlighttherehadbeenthebodyofamanlyingfacedownwardsonthegrass.Nowintheearlymorninglightthesamesightmetoureyes.ElliotHaydonwaslyingontheexactspotwherehiscousinhadbeen.
“‘MyGod!’saidSymonds.‘Ithasgothimtoo!’
“Werantogetheroverthegrass.ElliotHaydonwasunconsciousbutbreathingfeeblyandthistimetherewasnodoubtofwhathadcausedthetragedy.Alongthinbronzeweaponremainedinthewound.
“‘Gothimthroughtheshoulder,notthroughtheheart.Thatislucky,’commentedthedoctor.‘Onmysoul,Idon’tknowwhattothink.Atanyrateheisnotdeadandhewillbeabletotelluswhathappened.’
“ButthatwasjustwhatElliotHaydonwasnotabletodo.Hisdescriptionwasvagueintheextreme.HehadhuntedaboutvainlyforthedaggerandatlastgivingupthesearchhadtakenupastandneartheIdolHouse.Itwasthenthathebecameincreasinglycertainthatsomeonewaswatchinghimfromthebeltoftrees.Hefoughtagainstthisimpressionbutwasnotabletoshakeitoff.Hedescribedacoldstrangewindthatbegantoblow.ItseemedtocomenotfromthetreesbutfromtheinterioroftheIdolHouse.Heturnedround,peeringinsideit.HesawthesmallfigureoftheGoddessandhefelthewasunderanopticaldelusion.Thefigureseemedtogrowlargerandlarger.Thenhesuddenlyreceivedsomethingthatfeltlikeablowbetweenhistempleswhichsenthimreelingback,andashefellhewasconsciousofasharpburningpaininhisleftshoulder.
“Thedaggerwasidentifiedthistimeasbeingtheidenticalonewhichhadbeendugupinthebarrowonthehill,andwhichhadbeenboughtbyRichardHaydon.Wherehehadkeptit,inthehouseorintheIdolHouseinthegrove,noneseemedtoknow.
“Thepolicewereoftheopinion,andalwayswillbe,thathewasdeliberatelystabbedbyMissAshley,butinviewofourcombinedevidencethatshewasneverwithinthreeyardsofhim,theycouldnothopetosupportthechargeagainsther.Sothethinghasbeenandremainsamystery.”
Therewasasilence.
“Theredoesn’tseemanythingtosay,”saidJoyceLemprièreatlength.“Itisallsohorrible—anduncanny.Haveyounoexplanationforyourself,Dr.Pender?”
Theoldmannodded.“Yes,”hesaid.“Ihaveanexplanation—akindofexplanation,thatis.Ratheracuriousone—buttomyminditstillleavescertainfactorsunaccountedfor.”
“Ihavebeentoséances,”saidJoyce,“andyoumaysaywhatyoulike,veryqueerthingscanhappen.Isupposeonecanexplainitbysomekindofhypnotism.ThegirlreallyturnedherselfintoaPriestessofAstarte,andIsupposesomehoworothershemusthavestabbedhim.PerhapsshethrewthedaggerthatMissManneringsawinherhand.”
“Oritmighthavebeenajavelin,”suggestedRaymondWest.“Afterall,moonlightisnotverystrong.Shemighthavehadakindofspearinherhandandstabbedhimatadistance,andthenIsupposemasshypnotismcomesintoaccount.Imean,youwereallpreparedtoseehimstrickendownbysupernaturalmeansandsoyousawitlikethat.”
“Ihaveseenmanywonderfulthingsdonewithweaponsandknivesatmusichalls,”saidSirHenry.“Isupposeitispossiblethatamancouldhavebeenconcealedinthebeltoftrees,andthathemightfromtherehavethrownaknifeoradaggerwithsufficientaccuracy—agreeing,ofcourse,thathewasaprofessional.Iadmitthatthatseemsratherfar-fetched,butitseemstheonlyreallyfeasibletheory.Yourememberthattheothermanwasdistinctlyundertheimpressionthattherewassomeoneinthegroveoftreeswatchinghim.AstoMissManneringsayingthatMissAshleyhadadaggerinherhandandtheotherssayingshehadn’t,thatdoesn’tsurpriseme.Ifyouhadhadmyexperienceyouwouldknowthatfivepersons’accountofthesamethingwilldiffersowidelyastobealmostincredible.”
Mr.Petherickcoughed.
“Butinallthesetheoriesweseemtobeoverlookingoneessentialfact,”heremarked.“Whatbecameoftheweapon?MissAshleycouldhardlygetridofajavelinstandingasshewasinthemiddleofanopenspace;andifahiddenmurdererhadthrownadagger,thenthedaggerwouldstillhavebeeninthewoundwhenthemanwasturnedover.Wemust,Ithink,discardallfar-fetchedtheoriesandconfineourselvestosoberfact.”
“Andwheredoessoberfactleadus?”
“Well,onethingseemsquiteclear.Noonewasnearthemanwhenhewasstrickendown,sotheonlypersonwhocouldhavestabbedhimwashehimself.Suicide,infact.”
“Butwhyonearthshouldhewishtocommitsuicide?”askedRaymondWestincredulously.
Thelawyercoughedagain.“Ah,thatisaquestionoftheoryoncemore,”hesaid.“AtthemomentIamnotconcernedwiththeories.Itseemstome,excludingthesupernaturalinwhichIdonotforonemomentbelieve,thatthatwastheonlywaythingscouldhavehappened.Hestabbedhimself,andashefellhisarmsflewout,wrenchingthedaggerfromthewoundandflingingitfarintothezoneofthetrees.Thatis,Ithink,althoughsomewhatunlikely,apossiblehappening.”
“Idon’tliketosay,Iamsure,”saidMissMarple.“Itallperplexesmeverymuchindeed.Butcuriousthingsdohappen.AtLadySharpley’sgardenpartylastyearthemanwhowasarrangingtheclockgolftrippedoveroneofthenumbers—quiteunconscioushewas—anddidn’tcomeroundforaboutfiveminutes.”
“Yes,dearAunt,”saidRaymondgently,“buthewasn’tstabbed,washe?”
“Ofcoursenot,dear,”saidMissMarple.“ThatiswhatIamtellingyou.OfcoursethereisonlyonewaythatpoorSirRichardcouldhavebeenstabbed,butIdowishIknewwhatcausedhimtostumbleinthefirstplace.Ofcourse,itmighthavebeenatreeroot.Hewouldbelookingatthegirl,ofcourse,andwhenitismoonlightonedoestripoverthings.”
“YousaythatthereisonlyonewaythatSirRichardcouldhavebeenstabbed,MissMarple,”saidtheclergyman,lookingathercuriously.
“ItisverysadandIdon’tliketothinkofit.Hewasaright-handedman,washenot?Imeantostabhimselfintheleftshoulderhemusthavebeen.IwasalwayssosorryforpoorJackBaynesintheWar.Heshothimselfinthefoot,youremember,afterveryseverefightingatArras.HetoldmeaboutitwhenIwenttoseehiminhospital,andveryashamedofithewas.Idon’texpectthispoorman,ElliotHaydon,profitedmuchbyhiswickedcrime.”
“ElliotHaydon,”criedRaymond.“Youthinkhedidit?”
“Idon’tseehowanyoneelsecouldhavedoneit,”saidMissMarple,openinghereyesingentlesurprise.“Imeanif,asMr.Pethericksowiselysays,onelooksatthefactsanddisregardsallthatatmosphereofheathengoddesseswhichIdon’tthinkisverynice.Hewentuptohimfirstandturnedhimover,andofcoursetodothathewouldhavetohavehadhisbacktothemall,andbeingdressedasabrigandchiefhewouldbesuretohaveaweaponofsomekindinhisbelt.IrememberdancingwithamandressedasabrigandchiefwhenIwasayounggirl.Hehadfivekindsofknivesanddaggers,andIcan’ttellyouhowawkwardanduncomfortableitwasforhispartner.”
AlleyeswereturnedtowardsDr.Pender
“Iknewthetruth,”saidhe,“fiveyearsafterthattragedyoccurred.ItcameintheshapeofaletterwrittentomebyElliotHaydon.HesaidinitthathefanciedthatIhadalwayssuspectedhim.Hesaiditwasasuddentemptation.HetoolovedDianaAshley,buthewasonlyapoorstrugglingbarrister.WithRichardoutofthewayandinheritinghistitleandestates,hesawawonderfulprospectopeningupbeforehim.Thedaggerhadjerkedoutofhisbeltashekneltdownbyhiscousin,andalmostbeforehehadtimetothinkhedroveitinandreturnedittohisbeltagain.Hestabbedhimselflaterinordertodivertsuspicion.HewrotetomeontheeveofstartingonanexpeditiontotheSouthPoleincase,ashesaid,heshouldnevercomeback.Idonotthinkthathemeanttocomeback,andIknowthat,asMissMarplehassaid,hiscrimeprofitedhimnothing.‘Forfiveyears,’hewrote,‘IhavelivedinHell.Ihope,atleast,thatImayexpiatemycrimebydyinghonourably.’”
Therewasapause.
“Andhediddiehonourably,”saidSirHenry.“Youhavechangedthenamesinyourstory,Dr.Pender,butIthinkIrecognizethemanyoumean.”
“AsIsaid,”wentontheoldclergyman,“Idonotthinkthatexplanationquitecoversthefacts.Istillthinktherewasanevilinfluenceinthatgrove,aninfluencethatdirectedElliotHaydon’saction.EventothisdayIcanneverthinkwithoutashudderofTheIdolHouseofAstarte.”
Three
INGOTSOFGOLD
“IdonotknowthatthestorythatIamgoingtotellyouisafairone,”saidRaymondWest,“becauseIcan’tgiveyouthesolutionofit.YetthefactsweresointerestingandsocuriousthatIshouldliketopropoundittoyouasaproblem.Andperhapsbetweenuswemayarriveatsomelogicalconclusion.
“Thedateofthesehappeningswastwoyearsago,whenIwentdowntospendWhitsuntidewithamancalledJohnNewman,inCornwall.”
“Cornwall?”saidJoyceLemprièresharply.
“Yes.Why?”
“Nothing.Onlyit’sodd.MystoryisaboutaplaceinCornwall,too—alittlefishingvillagecalledRathole.Don’ttellmeyoursisthesame?”
“No.MyvillageiscalledPolperran.ItissituatedonthewestcoastofCornwall;averywildandrockyspot.Ihadbeenintroducedafewweekspreviouslyandhadfoundhimamostinterestingcompanion.Amanofintelligenceandindependentmeans,hewaspossessedofaromanticimagination.AsaresultofhislatesthobbyhehadtakentheleaseofPolHouse.HewasanauthorityonElizabethantimes,andhedescribedtomeinvividandgraphiclanguagetheroutoftheSpanishArmada.Soenthusiasticwashethatonecouldalmostimaginethathehadbeenaneyewitnessatthescene.Isthereanythinginreincarnation?Iwonder—Iverymuchwonder.”
“Youaresoromantic,Raymonddear,”saidMissMarple,lookingbenignantlyathim.
“RomanticisthelastthingthatIam,”saidRaymondWest,slightlyannoyed.“ButthisfellowNewmanwaschock-fullofit,andheinterestedmeforthatreasonasacurioussurvivalofthepast.ItappearsthatacertainshipbelongingtotheArmada,andknowntocontainavastamountoftreasureintheformofgoldfromtheSpanishMain,waswreckedoffthecoastofCornwallonthefamousandtreacherousSerpentRocks.Forsomeyears,soNewmantoldme,attemptshadbeenmadetosalvetheshipandrecoverthetreasure.Ibelievesuchstoriesarenotuncommon,thoughthenumberofmythicaltreasureshipsislargelyinexcessofthegenuineones.Acompanyhadbeenformed,buthadgonebankrupt,andNewmanhadbeenabletobuytherightsofthething—orwhateveryoucallit—forameresong.Hewaxedveryenthusiasticaboutitall.Accordingtohimitwasmerelyaquestionofthelatestscientific,up-to-datemachinery.Thegoldwasthere,andhehadnodoubtwhateverthatitcouldberecovered.
“ItoccurredtomeasIlistenedtohimhowoftenthingshappenthatway.ArichmansuchasNewmansucceedsalmostwithouteffort,andyetinallprobabilitytheactualvalueinmoneyofhisfindwouldmeanlittletohim.Imustsaythathisardourinfectedme.Isawgalleonsdriftingupthecoast,flyingbeforethestorm,beatenandbrokenontheblackrocks.Themerewordgalleonhasaromanticsound.Thephrase‘SpanishGold’thrillstheschoolboy—andthegrown-upmanalso.Moreover,Iwasworkingatthetimeuponanovel,somescenesofwhichwerelaidinthesixteenthcentury,andIsawtheprospectofgettingvaluablelocalcolourfrommyhost.
“IsetoffthatFridaymorningfromPaddingtoninhighspirits,andlookingforwardtomytrip.Thecarriagewasemptyexceptforoneman,whosatfacingmeintheoppositecorner.Hewasatall,soldierly-lookingman,andIcouldnotridmyselfoftheimpressionthatsomewhereorotherIhadseenhimbefore.Icudgelledmybrainsforsometimeinvain;butatlastIhadit.MytravellingcompanionwasInspectorBadgworth,andIhadrunacrosshimwhenIwasdoingaseriesofarticlesontheEversondisappearancecase.
“Irecalledmyselftohisnotice,andweweresoonchattingpleasantlyenough.WhenItoldhimIwasgoingtoPolperranheremarkedthatthatwasarumcoincidence,becausehehimselfwasalsoboundforthatplace.Ididnotliketoseeminquisitive,sowascarefulnottoaskhimwhattookhimthere.Instead,Ispokeofmyowninterestintheplace,andmentionedthewreckedSpanishgalleon.TomysurprisetheInspectorseemedtoknowallaboutit.‘ThatwillbetheJuanFernandez,’hesaid.‘Yourfriendwon’tbethefirstwhohassunkmoneytryingtogetmoneyoutofher.Itisaromanticnotion.’
“‘Andprobablythewholestoryisamyth,’Isaid.‘Noshipwaseverwreckedthereatall.’
“‘Oh,theshipwassunkthererightenough,’saidtheInspector—‘alongwithagoodcompanyofothers.Youwouldbesurprisedifyouknewhowmanywrecksthereareonthatpartofthecoast.Asamatteroffact,thatiswhattakesmedowntherenow.ThatiswheretheOtrantowaswreckedsixmonthsago.’
“‘Irememberreadingaboutit,’Isaid.‘Noliveswerelost,Ithink?’
“Noliveswerelost,’saidtheInspector;‘butsomethingelsewaslost.Itisnotgenerallyknown,buttheOtrantowascarryingbullion.’
“‘Yes?’Isaid,muchinterested.
“Naturallywehavehaddiversatworkonsalvageoperations,but—thegoldhasgone,Mr.West.’
“‘Gone!’Isaid,staringathim.‘Howcanithavegone?’
“‘Thatisthequestion,’saidtheInspector.‘Therockstoreagapingholeinherstrongroom.Itwaseasyenoughforthediverstogetinthatway,buttheyfoundthestrongroomempty.Thequestionis,wasthegoldstolenbeforethewreckorafterwards?Wasiteverinthestrongroomatall?’
“‘Itseemsacuriouscase,’Isaid.
“‘Itisaverycuriouscase,whenyouconsiderwhatbullionis.Notadiamondnecklacethatyoucouldputintoyourpocket.Whenyouthinkhowcumbersomeitisandhowbulky—well,thewholethingseemsabsolutelyimpossible.Theremayhavebeensomehocus-pocusbeforetheshipsailed;butifnot,itmusthavebeenremovedwithinthelastsixmonths—andIamgoingdowntolookintothematter.’
“IfoundNewmanwaitingtomeetmeatthestation.Heapologizedfortheabsenceofhiscar,whichhadgonetoTruroforsomenecessaryrepairs.Instead,hemetmewithafarmlorrybelongingtotheproperty.
“Iswungmyselfupbesidehim,andwewoundcarefullyinandoutofthenarrowstreetsofthefishingvillage.Wewentupasteepascent,withagradient,Ishouldsay,ofoneinfive,ranalittledistancealongawindinglane,andturnedinatthegranite-pillaredgatesofPolHouse.
“Theplacewasacharmingone;itwassituatedhighupthecliffs,withagoodviewouttosea.Partofitwassomethreeorfourhundredyearsold,andamodernwinghadbeenadded.Behinditfarminglandofaboutsevenoreightacresraninland.
“‘WelcometoPolHouse,’saidNewman.‘AndtotheSignoftheGoldenGalleon.’Andhepointedtowhere,overthefrontdoor,hungaperfectreproductionofaSpanishgalleonwithallsailsset.
“Myfirsteveningwasamostcharmingandinstructiveone.MyhostshowedmetheoldmanuscriptsrelatingtotheJuanFernandez.Heunrolledchartsformeandindicatedpositionsonthemwithdottedlines,andheproducedplansofdivingapparatus,which,Imaysay,mystifiedmeutterlyandcompletely.
“ItoldhimofmymeetingwithInspectorBadgworth,inwhichhewasmuchinterested.
“‘Theyareaqueerpeopleroundthiscoast,’hesaidreflectively.‘Smugglingandwreckingisintheirblood.Whenashipgoesdownontheircoasttheycannothelpregardingitaslawfulplundermeantfortheirpockets.ThereisafellowhereIshouldlikeyoutosee.Heisaninterestingsurvival.’
“Nextdaydawnedbrightandclear.IwastakendownintoPolperranandthereintroducedtoNewman’sdiver,amancalledHiggins.Hewasawooden-facedindividual,extremelytaciturn,andhiscontributionstotheconversationweremostlymonosyllables.Afteradiscussionbetweenthemonhighlytechnicalmatters,weadjournedtotheThreeAnchors.A
“‘DetectivegentlemanfromLondonhascomedown,’hegrunted.‘TheydosaythatthatshipthatwentdowntherelastNovemberwascarryingamortallotofgold.Well,shewasn’tthefirsttogodown,andshewon’tbethelast.’
“‘Hear,hear,’chimedinthelandlordoftheThreeAnchors.‘Thatisatruewordyousaythere,BillHiggins.’
“‘Ireckonitis,Mr.Kelvin,’saidHiggins.
“Ilookedwithsomecuriosityatthelandlord.Hewasaremarkable-lookingman,darkandswarthy,withcuriouslybroadshoulders.Hiseyeswerebloodshot,andhehadacuriouslyfurtivewayofavoidingone’sglance.IsuspectedthatthiswasthemanofwhomNewmanhadspoken,sayinghewasaninterestingsurvival.
“‘Wedon’twantinterferingforeignersonthiscoast,’hesaid,somewhattruculently.
“‘Meaningthepolice?’askedNewman,smiling.
“‘Meaningthepolice—andothers,’saidKelvinsignificantly.‘Anddon’tyouforgetit,mister.’
“‘Doyouknow,Newman,thatsoundedtomeverylikeathreat,’Isaidasweclimbedthehillhomewards.
“Myfriendlaughed.
“‘Nonsense;Idon’tdothefolkdownhereanyharm.’
“Ishookmyheaddoubtfully.TherewassomethingsinisteranduncivilizedaboutKelvin.Ifeltthathismindmightruninstrange,unrecognizedchannels.
“IthinkIdatethebeginningofmyuneasinessfromthatmoment.Ihadsleptwellenoughthatfirstnight,butthenextnightmysleepwastroubledandbroken.Sundaydawned,darkandsullen,withanovercastskyandthethreateningsofthunderintheair.Iamalwaysabadhandathidingmyfeelings,andNewmannoticedthechangeinme.
“‘Whatisthematterwithyou,West?Youareabundleofnervesthismorning.’
“‘Idon’tknow,’Iconfessed,‘butIhavegotahorriblefeelingofforeboding.’
“‘It’stheweather.’
“‘Yes,perhaps.’
“Isaidnomore.IntheafternoonwewentoutinNewman’smotorboat,buttheraincameonwithsuchvigourthatweweregladtoreturntoshoreandchangeintodryclothing.
“Andthateveningmyuneasinessincreased.Outsidethestormhowledandroared.Towardsteno’clockthetempestcalmeddown.Newmanlookedoutofthewindow.
“‘Itisclearing,’hesaid.‘Ishouldn’twonderifitwasaperfectlyfinenightinanotherhalfhour.Ifso,Ishallgooutforastroll.’
“Iyawned.‘Iamfrightfullysleepy,’Isaid.‘Ididn’tgetmuchsleeplastnight.IthinkthattonightIshallturninearly.’
“ThisIdid.OnthepreviousnightIhadsleptlittle.TonightIsleptheavily.Yetmyslumberswerenotrestful.Iwasstilloppressedwithanawfulforebodingofevil.Ihadterribledreams.Idreamtofdreadfulabyssesandvastchasms,amongstwhichIwaswandering,knowingthataslipofthefootmeantdeath.Iwakedtofindthehandsofmyclockpointingtoeighto’clock.Myheadwasachingbadly,andtheterrorofmynight’sdreamswasstilluponme.
“SostronglywasthissothatwhenIwenttothewindowanddrewitupIstartedbackwithafreshfeelingofterror,forthefirstthingIsaw,orthoughtIsaw—wasamandigginganopengrave
“Ittookmeaminuteortwotopullmyselftogether;thenIrealizedthatthegravediggerwasNewman’sgardener,andthe‘grave’wasdestinedtoaccommodatethreenewrosetreeswhichwerelyingontheturfwaitingforthemomenttheyshouldbesecurelyplantedintheearth.
“Thegardenerlookedupandsawmeandtouchedhishat.
“‘Goodmorning,sir.Nicemorning,sir.’
“‘Isupposeitis,’Isaiddoubtfully,stillunabletoshakeoffcompletelythedepressionofmyspirits.
“However,asthegardenerhadsaid,itwascertainlyanicemorning.Thesunwasshiningandtheskyaclearpalebluethatpromisedfineweatherfortheday.Iwentdowntobreakfastwhistlingatune.Newmanhadnomaidslivinginthehouse.Twomiddle-agedsisters,wholivedinafarmhousenearby,camedailytoattendtohissimplewants.OneofthemwasplacingthecoffeepotonthetableasIenteredtheroom.
“‘Goodmorning,Elizabeth,’Isaid.‘Mr.Newmannotdownyet?’
“‘Hemusthavebeenoutveryearly,sir,’shereplied.‘Hewasn’tinthehousewhenwearrived.’
“Instantlymyuneasinessreturned.OnthetwopreviousmorningsNewmanhadcomedowntobreakfastsomewhatlate;andIdidn’tfancythatatanytimehewasanearlyriser.Movedbythoseforebodings,Iranuptohisbedroom.Itwasempty,and,moreover,hisbedhadnotbeensleptin.Abriefexaminationofhisroomshowedmetwootherthings.IfNewmanhadgoneoutforastrollhemusthavegoneoutinhiseveningclothes,fortheyweremissing.
“Iwassurenowthatmypremonitionofevilwasjustified.Newmanhadgone,ashehadsaidhewoulddo,foraneveningstroll.Forsomereasonorotherhehadnotreturned.Why?Hadhemetwithanaccident?Fallenoverthecliffs?Asearchmustbemadeatonce.
“InafewhoursIhadcollectedalargebandofhelpers,andtogetherwehuntedineverydirectionalongthecliffsandontherocksbelow.ButtherewasnosignofNewman.
“Intheend,indespair,IsoughtoutInspectorBadgworth.Hisfacegrewverygrave.
“‘Itlookstomeasiftherehasbeenfoulplay,’hesaid.‘Therearesomenotover-scrupulouscustomersintheseparts.HaveyouseenKelvin,thelandlordoftheThreeAnchors?’
“IsaidthatIhadseenhim.
“‘Didyouknowhedidaturningaolfouryearsago?Assaultandbattery.’
“‘Itdoesn’tsurpriseme,’Isaid.
“‘Thegeneralopinioninthisplaceseemstobethatyourfriendisabittoofondofnosinghiswayintothingsthatdonotconcernhim.Ihopehehascometonoseriousharm.’
“Thesearchwascontinuedwithredoubledvigour.Itwasnotuntillatethatafternoonthatoureffortswererewarded.WediscoveredNewmaninadeepditchinacornerofhisownproperty.Hishandsandfeetweresecurelyfastenedwithrope,andahandkerchiefhadbeenthrustintohismouthandsecuredtheresoastopreventhimcryingout.
“Hewasterriblyexhaustedandingreatpain;butaftersomefrictioningofhiswristsandankles,andalongdraughtfromawhiskyflask,hewasabletogivehisaccountofwhathadoccurred.
“Theweatherhavingcleared,hehadgoneoutforastrollabouteleveno’clock.HiswayhadtakenhimsomedistancealongthecliffstoaspotcommonlyknownasSmugglers’Cove,owingtothelargenumberofcavestobefoundthere.Herehehadnoticedsomemenlandingsomethingfromasmallboat,andhadstrolleddowntoseewhatwasgoingon.Whateverthestuffwasitseemedtobeagreatweight,anditwasbeingcarriedintooneofthefarthermostcaves.
“Withnorealsuspicionofanythingbeingamiss,neverthelessNewmanhadwondered.Hehaddrawnquitenearthemwithoutbeingobserved.Suddenlytherewasacryofalarm,andimmediatelytwopowerfulseafaringmenhadsetuponhimandrenderedhimunconscious.Whennexthecametohimselfhefoundhimselflyingonamotorvehicleofsomekind,whichwasproceeding,withmanybumpsandbangs,asfarashecouldguess,upthelanewhichledfromthecoasttothevillage.Tohisgreatsurprise,thelorryturnedinatthegateofhisownhouse.There,afterawhisperedconversationbetweenthemen,theyatlengthdrewhimforthandflunghimintoaditchataspotwherethedepthofitrendereddiscoveryunlikelyforsometime.Thenthelorrydroveon,and,hethought,passedoutthroughanothergatesomequarterofamilenearerthevillage.Hecouldgivenodescriptionofhisassailantsexceptthattheywerecertainlyseafaringmenand,bytheirspeech,Cornishmen.
“InspectorBadgworthwasveryinterested.
“‘Dependuponitthatiswherethestuffhasbeenhidden,’hecried.‘Somehoworotherithasbeensalvagedfromthewreckandhasbeenstoredinsomelonelycavesomewhere.ItisknownthatwehavesearchedallthecavesinSmugglers’Cove,andthatwearenowgoingfartherafield,andtheyhaveevidentlybeenmovingthestuffatnighttoacavethathasbeenalreadysearchedandisnotlikelytobesearchedagain.Unfortunatelytheyhavehadatleasteighteenhourstodisposeofthestuff.IftheygotMr.NewmanlastnightIdoubtifwewillfindanyofittherebynow.’
“TheInspectorhurriedofftomakeasearch.Hefounddefiniteevidencethatthebullionhadbeenstoredassupposed,butthegoldhadbeenoncemoreremoved,andtherewasnoclueastoitsfreshhidingplace.
“Onecluetherewas,however,andtheInspectorhimselfpointeditouttomethefollowingmorning.
“‘Thatlaneisverylittleusedbymotorvehicles,’hesaid,‘andinoneortwoplaceswegetthetracesofthetyresveryclearly.Thereisathree-corneredpieceoutofonetyre,leavingamarkwhichisquiteunmistakable.Itshowsgoingintothegate;hereandthereisafaintmarkofitgoingoutoftheothergate,sothereisnotmuchdoubtthatitistherightvehicleweareafter.Now,whydidtheytakeitoutthroughthefarthergate?Itseemsquitecleartomethatthelorrycamefromthevillage.Now,therearen’tmanypeoplewhoownalorryinthevillage—notmorethantwoorthreeatmost.Kelvin,thelandlordoftheThreeAnchors,hasone.’
“‘WhatwasKelvin’soriginalprofession?’askedNewman.
“‘Itiscuriousthatyoushouldaskmethat,Mr.Newman.InhisyoungdaysKelvinwasaprofessionaldiver.’
“NewmanandIlookedateachother.Thepuzzleseemedtobefittingitselftogetherpiecebypiece.
“‘Youdidn’trecognizeKelvinasoneofthemenonthebeach?’askedtheInspector.
“Newmanshookhishead.
“‘IamafraidIcan’tsayanythingastothat,’hesaidregretfully.‘Ireallyhadn’ttimetoseeanything.’
“TheInspectorverykindlyallowedmetoaccompanyhimtotheThreeAnchors.Thegaragewasupasidestreet.Thebigdoorswereclosed,butbygoingupalittlealleyatthesidewefoundasmalldoorthatledintoit,andthedoorwasopen.AverybriefexaminationofthetyressufficedfortheInspector.‘Wehavegothim,byJove!’heexclaimed.‘Hereisthemarkaslargeaslifeontherearleftwheel.Now,Mr.Kelvin,Idon’tthinkyouwillbecleverenoughtowriggleoutofthis.’”
RaymondWestcametoahalt.
“Well?”saidJoyce.“SofarIdon’tseeanythingtomakeaproblemabout—unlesstheyneverfoundthegold.”
“Theyneverfoundthegoldcertainly,”saidRaymond.“AndtheynevergotKelvineither.Iexpecthewastoocleverforthem,butIdon’tquiteseehowheworkedit.Hewasdulyarrested—ontheevidenceofthetyremark.Butanextraordinaryhitcharose.Justoppositethebigdoorsofthegaragewasacottagerentedforthesummerbyaladyartist.”
“Oh,theseladyartists!”saidJoyce,laughing.
“Asyousay,‘Oh,theseladyartists!’Thisparticularonehadbeenillforsomeweeks,and,inconsequence,hadtwohospitalnursesattendingher.Thenursewhowasonnightdutyhadpulledherarmchairuptothewindow,wheretheblindwasup.Shedeclaredthatthemotorlorrycouldnothaveleftthegarageoppositewithoutherseeingit,andshesworethatinactualfactitneverleftthegaragethatnight.”
“Idon’tthinkthatismuchofaproblem,”saidJoyce.“Thenursewenttosleep,ofcourse.Theyalwaysdo.”
“Thathas—er—beenknowntohappen,”saidMr.Petherick,judiciously;“butitseemstomethatweareacceptingfactswithoutsufficientexamination.Beforeacceptingthetestimonyofthehospitalnurse,weshouldinquireverycloselyintoherbonafides.Thealibicomingwithsuchsuspiciouspromptnessisinclinedtoraisedoubtsinone’smind.”
“Thereisalsotheladyartist’stestimony,”saidRaymond.“Shedeclaredthatshewasinpain,andawakemostofthenight,andthatshewouldcertainlyhaveheardthelorry,itbeinganunusualnoise,andthenightbeingveryquietafterthestorm.”
“H’m,”saidtheclergyman,“thatiscertainlyanadditionalfact.HadKelvinhimselfanyalibi?”
“Hedeclaredthathewasathomeandinbedfromteno’clockonwards,buthecouldproducenowitnessesinsupportofthatstatement.”
“Thenursewenttosleep,”saidJoyce,“andsodidthepatient.Illpeoplealwaysthinktheyhaveneversleptawinkallnight.”
RaymondWestlookedinquiringlyatDr.Pender.
“Doyouknow,IfeelverysorryforthatmanKelvin.Itseemstomeverymuchacaseof‘Giveadogabadname.’Kelvinhadbeeninprison.Apartfromthetyremark,whichcertainlyseemstooremarkabletobecoincidence,theredoesn’tseemtobemuchagainsthimexcepthisunfortunaterecord.”
“You,SirHenry?”
SirHenryshookhishead.
“Asithappens,”hesaid,smiling,“Iknowsomethingaboutthiscase.SoclearlyImustn’tspeak.”
“Well,goon,AuntJane;haven’tyougotanythingtosay?”
“Inaminute,dear,”saidMissMarple.“IamafraidIhavecountedwrong.Twopurl,threeplain,slipone,twopurl—yes,that’sright.Whatdidyousay,dear?”
“Whatisyouropinion?”
“Youwouldn’tlikemyopinion,dear.Youngpeopleneverdo,Inotice.Itisbettertosaynothing.”
“Nonsense,AuntJane;outwithit.”
“Well,dearRaymond,”saidMissMarple,layingdownherknittingandlookingacrossathernephew.“Idothinkyoushouldbemorecarefulhowyouchooseyourfriends.Youaresocredulous,dear,soeasilygulled.Isupposeitisbeingawriterandhavingsomuchimagination.AllthatstoryaboutaSpanishgalleon!Ifyouwereolderandhadmoreexperienceoflifeyouwouldhavebeenonyourguardatonce.Amanyouhadknownonlyafewweeks,too!”
SirHenrysuddenlygaveventtoagreatroaroflaughterandslappedhisknee.
“Gotyouthistime,Raymond,”hesaid.“MissMarple,youarewonderful.YourfriendNewman,myboy,hasanothername—severalothernamesinfact.AtthepresentmomentheisnotinCornwallbutinDevonshire—Dartmoor,tobeexact—aconvictinPrincetownprison.Wedidn’tcatchhimoverthestolenbullionbusiness,butovertheriflingofthestrongroomofoneoftheLondonbanks.ThenwelookeduphispastrecordandwefoundagoodportionofthegoldstolenburiedinthegardenatPolHouse.Itwasratheraneatidea.AllalongthatCornishcoasttherearestoriesofwreckedgalleonsfullofgold.Itaccountedforthediveranditwouldaccountlaterforthegold.Butascapegoatwasneeded,andKelvinwasidealforthepurpose.Newmanplayedhislittlecomedyverywell,andourfriendRaymond,withhiscelebrityasawriter,madeanunimpeachablewitness.”
“Butthetyremark?”objectedJoyce.
“Oh,Isawthatatonce,dear,althoughIknownothingaboutmotors,”saidMissMarple.“Peoplechangeawheel,youknow—Ihaveoftenseenthemdoingit—and,ofcourse,theycouldtakeawheeloffKelvin’slorryandtakeitoutthroughthesmalldoorintothealleyandputitontoMr.Newman’slorryandtakethelorryoutofonegatedowntothebeach,fillitupwiththegoldandbringitupthroughtheothergate,andthentheymusthavetakenthewheelbackandputitbackonMr.Kelvin’slorrywhile,Isuppose,someoneelsewastyingupMr.Newmaninaditch.Veryuncomfortableforhimandprobablylongerbeforehewasfoundthanheexpected.Isupposethemanwhocalledhimselfthegardenerattendedtothatsideofthebusiness.”
“Whydoyousay,‘calledhimselfthegardener,’AuntJane?”askedRaymondcuriously.
“Well,hecan’thavebeenarealgardener,canhe?”saidMissMarple.“Gardenersdon’tworkonWhitMonday.Everybodyknowsthat.”
Shesmiledandfoldedupherknitting.
“Itwasreallythatlittlefactthatputmeontherightscent,”shesaid.ShelookedacrossatRaymond.
“Whenyouareahouseholder,dear,andhaveagardenofyourown,youwillknowtheselittlethings.”
Four
THEBLOODSTAINEDPAVEMENT
“It’scurious,”saidJoyceLemprière,“butIhardlyliketellingyoumystory.Ithappenedalongtimeago—fiveyearsagotobeexact—butit’ssortofhauntedmeeversince.Thesmiling,bright,toppartofit—andthehiddengruesomenessunderneath.AndthequeerthingisthatthesketchIpaintedatthetimehasbecometingedwiththesameatmosphere.WhenyoulookatitfirstitisjustaroughsketchofalittlesteepCornishstreetwiththesunlightonit.Butifyoulooklongenoughatitsomethingsinistercreepsin.IhaveneversolditbutIneverlookatit.Itlivesinthestudioinacornerwithitsfacetothewall.
“ThenameoftheplacewasRathole.ItisaqueerlittleCornishfishingvillage,verypicturesque—toopicturesqueperhaps.Thereisrathertoomuchoftheatmosphereof‘YeOldeCornishTeaHouse’aboutit.Ithasshopswithbobbed-headedgirlsinsmocksdoinghand-illuminatedmottoesonparchment.Itisprettyanditisquaint,butitisveryself-consciouslyso.”
“Don’tIknow,”saidRaymondWest,groaning.“Thecurseofthecharabanc,Isuppose.Nomatterhownarrowthelanesleadingdowntothemnopicturesquevillageissafe.”
Joycenodded.
“TheyarenarrowlanesthatleaddowntoRatholeandverysteep,likethesideofahouse.Well,togetonwithmystory.IhadcomedowntoCornwallforafortnight,tosketch.ThereisanoldinninRathole,ThePolharwithArms.ItwassupposedtobetheonlyhouseleftstandingbytheSpaniardswhentheyshelledtheplaceinfifteenhundredandsomething.”
“Notshelled,”saidRaymondWest,frowning.“Dotrytobehistoricallyaccurate,Joyce.”
“Well,atalleventstheylandedgunssomewherealongthecoastandtheyfiredthemandthehousesfelldown.Anywaythatisnotthepoint.Theinnwasawonderfuloldplacewithakindofporchinfrontbuiltonfourpillars.Igotaverygoodpitchandwasjustsettlingdowntoworkwhenacarcamecreepingandtwistingdownthehill.Ofcourse,itwouldstopbeforetheinn—justwhereitwasmostawkwardforme.Thepeoplegotout—amanandawoman—Ididn’tnoticethemparticularly.Shehadakindofmauvelinendressonandamauvehat.
“Presentlythemancameoutagainandtomygreatthankfulnessdrovethecardowntothequayandleftitthere.Hestrolledbackpastmetowardstheinn.Justatthatmomentanotherbeastlycarcametwistingdown,andawomangotoutofitdressedinthebrightestchintzfrockIhaveeverseen,scarletpoinsettias,Ithinktheywere,andshehadononeofthosebignativestrawhats—Cuban,aren’tthey?—inverybrightscarlet.
“Thiswomandidn’tstopinfrontoftheinnbutdrovethecarfartherdownthestreettowardstheotherone.Thenshegotoutandthemanseeinghergaveanastonishedshout.‘Carol,’hecried,‘inthenameofallthatiswonderful.Fancymeetingyouinthisout-of-the-wayspot.Ihaven’tseenyouforyears.Hello,there’sMargery—mywife,youknow.Youmustcomeandmeether.’
“Theywentupthestreettowardstheinnsidebyside,andIsawtheotherwomanhadjustcomeoutofthedoorandwasmovingdowntowardsthem.IhadhadjustaglimpseofthewomancalledCarolasshepassedbyme.JustenoughtoseeaverywhitepowderedchinandaflamingscarletmouthandIwondered—Ijustwondered—ifMargerywouldbesoverypleasedtomeether.Ihadn’tseenMargerynearto,butinthedistanceshelookeddowdyandextraprimandproper
“Well,ofcourse,itwasnotanyofmybusinessbutyougetveryqueerlittleglimpsesoflifesometimes,andyoucan’thelpspeculatingaboutthem.FromwheretheywerestandingIcouldjustcatchfragmentsoftheirconversationthatfloateddowntome.Theyweretalkingaboutbathing.Thehusband,whosenameseemedtobeDenis,wantedtotakeaboatandrowroundthecoast.Therewasafamouscavewellworthseeing,sohesaid,aboutamilealong.Carolwantedtoseethecavetoobutsuggestedwalkingalongthecliffsandseeingitfromthelandside.Shesaidshehatedboats.Intheendtheyfixeditthatway.Carolwastogoalongthecliffpathandmeetthematthecave,andDenisandMargerywouldtakeaboatandrowround.
“Hearingthemtalkaboutbathingmademewanttobathetoo.ItwasaveryhotmorningandIwasn’tdoingparticularlygoodwork.Also,Ifanciedthattheafternoonsunlightwouldbefarmoreattractiveineffect.SoIpackedupmythingsandwentofftoalittlebeachthatIknewof—itwasquitetheoppositedirectionfromthecave,andwasratheradiscoveryofmine.IhadarippingbathethereandIlunchedoffatinnedtongueandtwotomatoes,andIcamebackintheafternoonfullofconfidenceandenthusiasmtogetonwithmysketch.
“ThewholeofRatholeseemedtobeasleep.Ihadbeenrightabouttheafternoonsunlight,theshadowswerefarmoretelling.ThePolharwithArmswastheprincipalnoteofmysketch.Arayofsunlightcameslantingobliquelydownandhitthegroundinfrontofitandhadratheracuriouseffect.Igatheredthatthebathingpartyhadreturnedsafely,becausetwobathingdresses,ascarletoneandadarkblueone,werehangingfromthebalcony,dryinginthesun.
“SomethinghadgoneabitwrongwithonecornerofmysketchandIbentoveritforsomemomentsdoingsomethingtoputitright.WhenIlookedupagaintherewasafigureleaningagainstoneofthepillarsofThePolharwithArms,whoseemedtohaveappearedtherebymagic.Hewasdressedinseafaringclothesandwas,Isuppose,afisherman.Buthehadalongdarkbeard,andifIhadbeenlookingforamodelforawickedSpanishcaptainIcouldn’thaveimaginedanyonebetter.Igottoworkwithfeverishhastebeforeheshouldmoveaway,thoughfromhisattitudehelookedasthoughhewaspefectlypreparedtopropupthepillarsthroughalleternity.
“Hedidmove,however,butluckilynotuntilIhadgotwhatIwanted.Hecameovertomeandhebegantotalk.Oh,howthatmantalked.
“‘Rathole,’hesaid,‘wasaveryinterestingplace.’
“IknewthatalreadybutalthoughIsaidsothatdidn’tsaveme.Ihadthewholehistoryoftheshelling—Imeanthedestroying—ofthevillage,andhowthelandlordofthePolharwithArmswasthelastmantobekilled.RunthroughonhisownthresholdbyaSpanishcaptain’ssword,andofhowhisbloodspurtedoutonthepavementandnoonecouldwashoutthestainforahundredyears
“Itallfittedinverywellwiththelanguorousdrowsyfeelingoftheafternoon.Theman’svoicewasverysuaveandyetatthesametimetherewasanundercurrentinitofsomethingratherfrightening.Hewasveryobsequiousinhismanner,yetIfeltunderneathhewascruel.HemademeunderstandtheInquisitionandtheterrorsofallthethingstheSpaniardsdidbetterthanIhaveeverdonebefore.
“AllthetimehewastalkingtomeIwentonpainting,andsuddenlyIrealizedthatintheexcitementoflisteningtohisstoryIhadpaintedinsomethingthatwasnotthere.OnthatwhitesquareofpavementwherethesunfellbeforethedoorofThePolharwithArms,Ihadpaintedinbloodstains.Itseemedextraordinarythatthemindcouldplaysuchtrickswiththehand,butasIlookedovertowardstheinnagainIgotasecondshock.Myhandhadonlypaintedwhatmyeyessaw—dropsofbloodonthewhitepavement.
“Istaredforaminuteortwo.ThenIshutmyeyes,saidtomyself,‘Don’tbesostupid,there’snothingthere,really,’thenIopenedthemagain,butthebloodstainswerestillthere.
“IsuddenlyfeltIcouldn’tstandit.Iinterruptedthefisherman’sfloodoflanguage.
“‘Tellme,’Isaid,‘myeyesightisnotverygood.Arethosebloodstainsonthatpavementoverthere?’
“Helookedatmeindulgentlyandkindly.
“‘Nobloodstainsinthesedays,lady.WhatIamtellingyouaboutisnearlyfivehundredyearsago.’
“‘Yes,’Isaid,‘butnow—onthepavement’—thewordsdiedawayinmythroat.Iknew—Iknewthathewouldn’tseewhatIwasseeing.Igotupandwithshakinghandsbegantoputmythingstogether.AsIdidsotheyoungmanwhohadcomeinthecarthatmorningcameoutoftheinndoor.Helookedupanddownthestreetperplexedly.Onthebalconyabovehiswifecameoutandcollectedthebathingthings.Hewalkeddowntowardsthecarbutsuddenlyswervedandcameacrosstheroadtowardsthefisherman.
“‘Tellme,myman,’hesaid.‘Youdon’tknowwhethertheladywhocameinthatsecondcartherehasgotbackyet?’
“‘Ladyinadresswithflowersalloverit?No,sir,Ihaven’tseenher.Shewentalongtheclifftowardsthecavethismorning.’
“‘Iknow,Iknow.Weallbathedtheretogether,andthensheleftustowalkhomeandIhavenotseenhersince.Itcan’thavetakenherallthistime.Thecliffsroundherearenotdangerous,arethey?’
“‘Itdepends,sir,onthewayyougo.Thebestwayistotakeamanwhatknowstheplacewithyou.’
“Heveryclearlymeanthimselfandwasbeginningtoenlargeonthetheme,buttheyoungmancuthimshortunceremoniouslyandranbacktowardstheinncallinguptohiswifeonthebalcony.
“‘Isay,Margery,Carolhasn’tcomebackyet.Odd,isn’tit?’
“Ididn’thearMargery’sreply,butherhusbandwenton.‘Well,wecan’twaitanylonger.WehavegottopushontoPenrithar.Areyouready?Iwillturnthecar.’
“Hedidashehadsaid,andpresentlythetwoofthemdroveofftogether.MeanwhileIhaddeliberatelybeennervingmyselftoprovehowridiculousmyfancieswere.WhenthecarhadgoneIwentovertotheinnandexaminedthepavementclosely.Ofcoursetherewerenobloodstainsthere.No,allalongithadbeentheresultofmydistortedimagination.Yet,somehow,itseemedtomakethethingmorefrightening.ItwaswhileIwasstandingtherethatIheardthefisherman’svoice.
“Hewaslookingatmecuriously.‘Youthoughtyousawbloodstainshere,eh,lady?’
“Inodded.
“‘Thatisverycurious,thatisverycurious.Wehavegotasuperstitionhere,lady.Ifanyoneseesthosebloodstains—’
“Hepaused.
“‘Well?’Isaid.
“Hewentoninhissoftvoice,Cornishinintonation,butunconsciouslysmoothandwell-bredinitspronunciation,andcompletelyfreefromCornishturnsofspeech.
“‘Theydosay,lady,thatifanyoneseesthosebloodstainsthattherewillbeadeathwithintwenty-fourhours.’
“Creepy!Itgavemeanastyfeelingalldownmyspine.
“Hewentonpersuasively.‘Thereisaveryinterestingtabletinthechurch,lady,aboutadeath—’
“‘Nothanks,’Isaiddecisively,andIturnedsharplyonmyheelandwalkedupthestreettowardsthecottagewhereIwaslodging.JustasIgotthereIsawinthedistancethewomancalledCarolcomingalongthecliffpath.Shewashurrying.Againstthegreyoftherocksshelookedlikesomepoisonousscarletflower.Herhatwasthecolourofblood….
“Ishookmyself.Really,Ihadbloodonthebrain.
“LaterIheardthesoundofhercar.IwonderedwhethershetoowasgoingtoPenrithar;butshetooktheroadtotheleftintheoppositedirection.Iwatchedthecarcrawlupthehillanddisappear,andIbreathedsomehowmoreeasily.Ratholeseemeditsquietsleepyselfoncemore.”
“Ifthatisall,”saidRaymondWestasJoycecametoastop,“Iwillgivemyverdictatonce.Indigestion,spotsbeforetheeyesaftermeals.”
“Itisn’tall,”saidJoyce.“Youhavegottohearthesequel.Ireaditinthepapertwodayslaterundertheheadingof‘SeaBathingFatality.’IttoldhowMrs.Dacre,thewifeofCaptainDenisDacre,wasunfortunatelydrownedatLandeerCove,justalittlefartheralongthecoast.Sheandherhusbandwerestayingatthetimeatthehotelthere,andhaddeclaredtheirintentionofbathing,butacoldwindsprangup.CaptainDacrehaddeclareditwastoocold,soheandsomeotherpeopleinthehotelhadgoneofftothegolflinksnearby.Mrs.Dacre,however,hadsaiditwasnottoocoldforherandshewentoffalonedowntothecove.Asshedidn’treturnherhusbandbecamealarmed,andincompanywithhisfriendswentdowntothebeach.Theyfoundherclotheslyingbesidearock,butnotraceoftheunfortunatelady.Herbodywasnotfounduntilnearlyaweeklaterwhenitwaswashedashoreatapointsomedistancedownthecoast.Therewasabadblowonherheadwhichhadoccurredbeforedeath,andthetheorywasthatshemusthavedivedintotheseaandhitherheadonarock.AsfarasIcouldmakeoutherdeathwouldhaveoccurredjusttwenty-fourhoursafterthetimeIsawthebloodstains.”
“Iprotest,”saidSirHenry.“Thisisnotaproblem—thisisaghoststory.MissLemprièreisevidentlyamedium.”
Mr.Petherickgavehisusualcough.
“Onepointstrikesme—”hesaid,“thatblowonthehead.Wemustnot,Ithink,excludethepossibilityoffoulplay.ButIdonotseethatwehaveanydatatogoupon.MissLemprière’shallucination,orvision,isinterestingcertainly,butIdonotseeclearlythepointonwhichshewishesustopronounce.”
“Indigestionandcoincidence,”saidRaymond,“andanywayyoucan’tbesurethattheywerethesamepeople.Besides,thecurse,orwhateveritwas,wouldonlyapplytotheactualinhabitantsofRathole.”
“Ifeel,”saidSirHenry,“thatthesinisterseafaringmanhassomethingtodowiththistale.ButIagreewithMr.Petherick,MissLemprièrehasgivenusverylittledata.”
JoyceturnedtoDr.Penderwhosmilinglyshookhishead.
“Itisamostinterestingstory,”hesaid,“butIamafraidIagreewithSirHenryandMr.Petherickthatthereisverylittledatatogoupon.”
JoycethenlookedcuriouslyatMissMarple,whosmiledbackather.
“I,too,thinkyouarejustalittleunfair,Joycedear,”shesaid.“Ofcourse,itisdifferentforme.Imean,we,beingwomen,appreciatethepointaboutclothes.Idon’tthinkitisafairproblemtoputtoaman.Itmusthavemeantalotofrapidchanging.Whatawickedwoman!Andastillmorewickedman.”
Joycestaredather.
“AuntJane,”shesaid.“MissMarple,Imean,Ibelieve—Idoreallybelieveyouknowthetruth.”
“Well,dear,”saidMissMarple,“itismucheasierformesittingherequietlythanitwasforyou—andbeinganartistyouaresosusceptibletoatmosphere,aren’tyou?Sittingherewithone’sknitting,onejustseesthefacts.Bloodstainsdroppedonthepavementfromthebathingdresshangingabove,andbeingaredbathingdress,ofcourse,thecriminalsthemselvesdidnotrealizeitwasbloodstained.Poorthing,pooryoungthing!”
“Excuseme,MissMarple,”saidSirHenry,“butyoudoknowthatIamentirelyinthedarkstill.YouandMissLemprièreseemtoknowwhatyouaretalkingabout,butwemenarestillinutterdarkness.”
“Iwilltellyoutheendofthestorynow,”saidJoyce.“Itwasayearlater.Iwasatalittleeastcoastseasideresort,andIwassketching,whensuddenlyIhadthatqueerfeelingonehasofsomethinghavinghappenedbefore.Thereweretwopeople,amanandawoman,onthepavementinfrontofme,andtheyweregreetingathirdperson,awomandressedinascarletpoinsettiachintzdress.‘Carol,byallthatiswonderful!Fancymeetingyouafteralltheseyears.Youdon’tknowmywife?Joan,thisisanoldfriendofmine,MissHarding.’
“Irecognizedthemanatonce.ItwasthesameDenisIhadseenatRathole.Thewifewasdifferent—thatis,shewasaJoaninsteadofaMargery;butshewasthesametype,youngandratherdowdyandveryinconspicuous.IthoughtforaminuteIwasgoingmad.Theybegantotalkofgoingbathing.IwilltellyouwhatIdid.Imarchedstraightthenandtheretothepolicestation.IthoughttheywouldprobablythinkIwasoffmyhead,butIdidn’tcare.Andasithappenedeverythingwasquiteallright.TherewasamanfromScotlandYardthere,andhehadcomedownjustaboutthisverything.Itseems—oh,it’shorribletotalkabout—thatthepolicehadgotsuspicionsofDenisDacre.Thatwasn’thisrealname—hetookdifferentnamesondifferentoccasions.Hegottoknowgirls,usuallyquietinconspicuousgirlswithoutmanyrelativesorfriends,hemarriedthemandinsuredtheirlivesforlargesumsandthen—oh,it’shorrible!ThewomancalledCarolwashisrealwife,andtheyalwayscarriedoutthesameplan.Thatisreallyhowtheycametocatchhim.Theinsurancecompaniesbecamesuspicious.Hewouldcometosomequietseasideplacewithhisnewwife,thentheotherwomanwouldturnupandtheywouldallgobathingtogether.ThenthewifewouldbemurderedandCarolwouldputonherclothesandgobackintheboatwithhim.Thentheywouldleavetheplace,whereveritwas,afterinquiringforthesupposedCarolandwhentheygotoutsidethevillageCarolwouldhastilychangebackintoherownflamboyantclothesandhervividmakeupandwouldgobackthereanddriveoffinherowncar.Theywouldfindoutwhichwaythecurrentwasflowingandthesupposeddeathwouldtakeplaceatthenextbathingplacealongthecoastthatway.Carolwouldplaythepartofthewifeandwouldgodowntosomelonelybeachandwouldleavethewife’sclothestherebyarockanddepartinherflowerychintzdresstowaitquietlyuntilherhusbandcouldrejoinher.
“IsupposewhentheykilledpoorMargerysomeofthebloodmusthavespurtedoverCarol’sbathingsuit,andbeingaredonetheydidn’tnoticeit,asMissMarplesays.Butwhentheyhungitoverthebalconyitdripped.Ugh!”shegaveashiver.“Icanseeitstill.”
“Ofcourse,”saidSirHenry,“Irememberverywellnow.Daviswastheman’srealname.IthadquiteslippedmymemorythatoneofhismanyaliaseswasDacre.Theywereanextraordinarilycunningpair.Italwaysseemedsoamazingtomethatnoonespottedthechangeofidentity.Isuppose,asMissMarplesays,clothesaremoreeasilyidentifiedthanfaces;butitwasaverycleverscheme,foralthoughwesuspectedDavisitwasnoteasytobringthecrimehometohimashealwaysseemedtohaveanunimpeachablealibi.”
“AuntJane,”saidRaymond,lookingathercuriously,“howdoyoudoit?Youhavelivedsuchapeacefullifeandyetnothingseemstosurpriseyou.”
“Ialwaysfindonethingverylikeanotherinthisworld,”saidMissMarple.“TherewasMrs.Green,youknow,sheburiedfivechildren—andeveryoneoftheminsured.Well,naturally,onebegantogetsuspicious.”
Sheshookherhead.
“Thereisagreatdealofwickednessinvillagelife.Ihopeyoudearyoungpeoplewillneverrealizehowverywickedtheworldis.”
Five
MOTIVEV.OPPORTUNITY
Mr.Petherickclearedhisthroatrathermoreimportantlythanusual.
“Iamafraidmylittleproblemwillseemrathertametoyouall,”hesaidapologetically,“afterthesensationalstorieswehavebeenhearing.Thereisnobloodshedinmine,butitseemstomeaninterestingandratheringeniouslittleproblem,andfortunatelyIaminthepositiontoknowtherightanswertoit.”
“Itisn’tterriblylegal,isit?”askedJoyceLemprière.“ImeanpointsoflawandlotsofBarnabyvSkinnerintheyear1881,andthingslikethat.”
Mr.Petherickbeamedappreciativelyatheroverhiseyeglasses.
“No,no,mydearyounglady.Youneedhavenofearsonthatscore.ThestoryIamabouttotellisaperfectlysimpleandstraightforwardoneandcanbefollowedbyanylayman.”
“Nolegalquibbles,now,”saidMissMarple,shakingaknittingneedleathim
“Certainlynot,”saidMr.Petherick.
“Ahwell,Iamnotsosure,butlet’shearthestory.”
“Itconcernsaformerclientofmine.IwillcallhimMr.Clode—SimonClode.Hewasamanofconsiderablewealthandlivedinalargehousenotveryfarfromhere.HehadhadonesonkilledintheWarandthissonhadleftonechild,alittlegirl.Hermotherhaddiedatherbirth,andonherfather’sdeathshehadcometolivewithhergrandfatherwhoatoncebecamepassionatelyattachedtoher.LittleChriscoulddoanythingshelikedwithhergrandfather.Ihaveneverseenamanmorecompletelywrappedupinachild,andIcannotdescribetoyouhisgriefanddespairwhen,attheageofeleven,thechildcontractedpneumoniaanddied
“PoorSimonClodewasinconsolable.AbrotherofhishadrecentlydiedinpoorcircumstancesandSimonClodehadgenerouslyofferedahometohisbrother’schildren—twogirls,GraceandMary,andaboy,George.Butthoughkindandgeneroustohisnephewandnieces,theoldmanneverexpendedonthemanyoftheloveanddevotionhehadaccordedtohislittlegrandchild.EmploymentwasfoundforGeorgeClodeinabanknearby,andGracemarriedacleveryoungresearchchemistofthenameofPhilipGarrod.Mary,whowasaquiet,self-containedgirl,livedathomeandlookedafterheruncle.Shewas,Ithink,fondofhiminherquietundemonstrativeway.Andtoallappearancesthingswentonverypeacefully.ImaysaythatafterthedeathoflittleChristobel,SimonClodecametomeandinstructedmetodrawupanewwill.Bythiswill,hisfortune,averyconsiderableone,wasdividedequallybetweenhisnephewandnieces,athirdsharetoeach.
“Timewenton.ChancingtomeetGeorgeClodeonedayIinquiredforhisuncle,whomIhadnotseenforsometime.TomysurpriseGeorge’sfacecloudedover.‘IwishyoucouldputsomesenseintoUncleSimon,’hesaidruefully.Hishonestbutnotverybrilliantcountenancelookedpuzzledandworried.‘Thisspiritbusinessisgettingworseandworse.’
“‘Whatspiritbusiness?’Iasked,verymuchsurprised.
“ThenGeorgetoldmethewholestory.HowMr.ClodehadgraduallygotinterestedinthesubjectandhowonthetopofthisinteresthehadchancedtomeetanAmericanmedium,aMrs.EurydiceSpragg.Thiswoman,whomGeorgedidnothesitatetocharacterizeasanoutandoutswindler,hadgainedanimmenseascendancyoverSimonClode.ShewaspracticallyalwaysinthehouseandmanyséanceswereheldinwhichthespiritofChristobelmanifesteditselftothedotinggrandfather.
“ImaysayhereandnowthatIdonotbelongtotheranksofthosewhocoverspiritualismwithridiculeandscorn.Iam,asIhavetoldyou,abelieverinevidence.AndIthinkthatwhenwehaveanimpartialmindandweightheevidenceinfavourofspiritualismthereremainsmuchthatcannotbeputdowntofraudorlightlysetaside.Therefore,asIsay,Iamneitherabelievernoranunbeliever.Thereiscertaintestimonywithwhichonecannotaffordtodisagree
“Ontheotherhand,spiritualismlendsitselfveryeasilytofraudandimposture,andfromallyoungGeorgeClodetoldmeaboutthisMrs.EurydiceSpraggIfeltmoreandmoreconvincedthatSimonClodewasinbadhandsandthatMrs.Spraggwasprobablyanimposteroftheworsttype.Theoldman,shrewdashewasinpracticalmatters,wouldbeeasilyimposedonwherehisloveforhisdeadgrandchildwasconcerned.
“TurningthingsoverinmymindIfeltmoreandmoreuneasy.IwasfondoftheyoungClodes,MaryandGeorge,andIrealizedthatthisMrs.Spraggandherinfluenceovertheirunclemightleadtotroubleinthefuture.
“AttheearliestopportunityImadeapretextforcallingonSimonClode.IfoundMrs.Spragginstalledasanhonouredandfriendlyguest.AssoonasIsawhermyworstapprehensionswerefulfilled.Shewasastoutwomanofmiddleage,dressedinaflamboyantstyle.Veryfullofcantphrasesabout‘Ourdearoneswhohavepassedover,’andotherthingsofthekind.
“Herhusbandwasalsostayinginthehouse,Mr.AbsalomSpragg,athinlankmanwithamelancholyexpressionandextremelyfurtiveeyes.AssoonasIcould,IgotSimonClodetomyselfandsoundedhimtactfullyonthesubject.Hewasfullofenthusiasm.EurydiceSpraggwaswonderful!Shehadbeensenttohimdirectlyinanswertoaprayer!Shecarednothingformoney,thejoyofhelpingaheartinafflictionwasenoughforher.Shehadquiteamother’sfeelingforlittleChris.Hewasbeginningtoregardheralmostasadaughter.Thenhewentontogivemedetails—howhehadheardhisChris’svoicespeaking—howshewaswellandhappywithherfatherandmother.Hewentontotellothersentimentsexpressedbythechild,whichinmyremembranceoflittleChristobelseemedtomehighlyunlikely.Shelaidstressonthefactthat‘FatherandMotherloveddearMrs.Spragg.’
“‘But,ofcourse,’hebrokeoff,‘youareascoffer,Petherick.’
“‘No,Iamnotascoffer.Veryfarfromit.SomeofthemenwhohavewrittenonthesubjectaremenwhosetestimonyIwouldacceptunhesitatingly,andIshouldaccordanymediumrecommendedbythemrespectandcredence.IpresumethatthisMrs.Spraggiswellvouchedfor?’
“SimonwentintoecstasiesoverMrs.Spragg.ShehadbeensenttohimbyHeaven.Hehadcomeacrossheratthewateringplacewherehehadspenttwomonthsinthesummer.Achancemeeting,withwhatawonderfulresult!
“Iwentawayverydissatisfied.Myworstfearswererealized,butIdidnotseewhatIcoulddo.AfteragooddealofthoughtanddeliberationIwrotetoPhilipGarrodwhohad,asImentioned,justmarriedtheeldestClodegirl,Grace.Isetthecasebeforehim—ofcourse,inthemostcarefullyguardedlanguage.Ipointedoutthedangerofsuchawomangainingascendancyovertheoldman’smind.AndIsuggestedthatMr.Clodeshouldbebroughtintocontactifpossiblewithsomereputablespiritualisticcircles.This,Ithought,wouldnotbeadifficultmatterforPhilipGarrodtoarrange.
“Garrodwasprompttoact.Herealized,whichIdidnot,thatSimonClode’shealthwasinaveryprecariouscondition,andasapracticalmanhehadnointentionoflettinghiswifeorhersisterandbrotherbedespoiledoftheinheritancewhichwassorightlytheirs.Hecamedownthefollowingweek,bringingwithhimasaguestnootherthanthefamousProfessorLongman.Longmanwasascientistofthefirstorder,amanwhoseassociationwithspiritualismcompelledthelattertobetreatedwithrespect.Notonlyabrilliantscientist;hewasamanoftheutmostuprightnessandprobity.
“Theresultofthevisitwasmostunfortunate.Longman,itseemed,hadsaidverylittlewhilehewasthere.Twoséanceswereheld—underwhatconditionsIdonotknow.Longmanwasnoncommittalallthetimehewasinthehouse,butafterhisdeparturehewrotealettertoPhilipGarrod.InitheadmittedthathehadnotbeenabletodetectMrs.Spragginfraud,neverthelesshisprivateopinionwasthatthephenomenawerenotgenuine.Mr.Garrod,hesaid,wasatlibertytoshowthislettertohisuncleifhethoughtfit,andhesuggestedthathehimselfshouldputMr.Clodeintouchwithamediumofperfectintegrity.
“PhilipGarrodhadtakenthisletterstraighttohisuncle,buttheresultwasnotwhathehadanticipated.Theoldmanflewintoatoweringrage.ItwasallaplottodiscreditMrs.Spraggwhowasamalignedandinjuredsaint!Shehadtoldhimalreadywhatbitterjealousytherewasofherinthiscountry.HepointedoutthatLongmanwasforcedtosayhehadnotdetectedfraud.EurydiceSpragghadcometohiminthedarkesthourofhislife,hadgivenhimhelpandcomfort,andhewaspreparedtoespousehercauseevenifitmeantquarrellingwitheverymemberofhisfamily.Shewasmoretohimthananyoneelseintheworld.
“PhilipGarrodwasturnedoutofthehousewithscantceremony;butasaresultofhisrageClode’sownhealthtookadecidedturnfortheworse.Forthelastmonthhehadkepttohisbedprettycontinuously,andnowthereseemedeverypossibilityofhisbeingabedriddeninvaliduntilsuchtimeasdeathshouldreleasehim.TwodaysafterPhilip’sdepartureIreceivedanurgentsummonsandwenthurriedlyover.Clodewasinbedandlookedeventomylayman’seyeveryillindeed.Hewasgaspingforbreath.
“‘Thisistheendofme,’hesaid.‘Ifeelit.Don’targuewithme,Petherick.ButbeforeIdieIamgoingtodomydutybytheonehumanbeingwhohasdonemoreformethananyoneelseintheworld.Iwanttomakeafreshwill.’
“‘Certainly,’Isaid,‘ifyouwillgivemeyourinstructionsnowIwilldraftoutawillandsendittoyou.’
“‘Thatwon’tdo,’hesaid.‘Why,man,Imightnotlivethroughthenight.IhavewrittenoutwhatIwanthere,’hefumbledunderhispillow,‘andyoucantellmeifitisright.’
“Heproducedasheetofpaperwithafewwordsroughlyscribbledonitinpencil.Itwasquitesimpleandclear.Heleft￡5000toeachofhisniecesandnephew,andtheresidueofhisvastpropertyoutrighttoEurydiceSpragg‘ingratitudeandadmiration.’
“Ididn’tlikeit,butthereitwas.Therewasnoquestionofunsoundmind,theoldmanwasassaneasanybody.
“Herangthebellfortwooftheservants.Theycamepromptly.Thehousemaid,EmmaGaunt,wasatallmiddle-agedwomanwhohadbeeninservicethereformanyyearsandwhohadnursedClodedevotedly.Withhercamethecook,afreshbuxomyoungwomanofthirty.SimonClodeglaredatthembothfromunderhisbushyeyebrows.
“‘Iwantyoutowitnessmywill.Emma,getmemyfountainpen.’
“Emmawentoverobedientlytothedesk
“‘Notthatleft-handdrawer,girl,’saidoldSimonirritably.‘Don’tyouknowitisintheright-handone?’
“‘No,itishere,sir,’saidEmma,producingit.
“‘Thenyoumusthaveputitawaywronglasttime,’grumbledtheoldman.‘Ican’tstandthingsnotbeingkeptintheirproperplaces.’
“Stillgrumblinghetookthepenfromherandcopiedhisownroughdraught,amendedbyme,ontoafreshpieceofpaper.Thenhesignedhisname.EmmaGauntandthecook,LucyDavid,alsosigned.Ifoldedthewillupandputitintoalongblueenvelope.Itwasnecessarily,youunderstand,writtenonanordinarypieceofpaper.
“JustastheservantswereturningtoleavetheroomClodelaybackonthepillowswithagaspandadistortedface.IbentoverhimanxiouslyandEmmaGauntcamequicklyback.However,theoldmanrecoveredandsmiledweakly.
“‘Itisallright,Petherick,don’tbealarmed.AtanyrateIshalldieeasynowhavingdonewhatIwantedto.’
“EmmaGauntlookedinquiringlyatmeasiftoknowwhethershecouldleavetheroom.Inoddedreassuringlyandshewentout—firststoppingtopickuptheblueenvelopewhichIhadletsliptothegroundinmymomentofanxiety.ShehandedittomeandIslippeditintomycoatpocketandthenshewentout.
“‘Youareannoyed,Petherick,’saidSimonClode.‘Youareprejudiced,likeeverybodyelse.’
“‘Itisnotaquestionofprejudice,’Isaid.‘Mrs.Spraggmaybeallthatsheclaimstobe.Ishouldseenoobjectiontoyouleavingherasmalllegacyasamementoofgratitude;butItellyoufrankly,Clode,thattodisinherityourownfleshandbloodinfavourofastrangeriswrong.’
“WiththatIturnedtodepart.IhaddonewhatIcouldandmademyprotest.
“MaryClodecameoutofthedrawingroomandmetmeinthehall.
“‘Youwillhaveteabeforeyougo,won’tyou?Comeinhere,’andsheledmeintothedrawingroom.
“Afirewasburningonthehearthandtheroomlookedcosyandcheerful.Sherelievedmeofmyovercoatjustasherbrother,George,cameintotheroom.Hetookitfromherandlaiditacrossachairatthefarendoftheroom,thenhecamebacktothefiresidewherewedranktea.Duringthemealaquestionaroseaboutsomepointconcerningtheestate.SimonClodesaidhedidn’twanttobebotheredwithitandhadleftittoGeorgetodecide.Georgewasrathernervousabouttrustingtohisownjudgment.Atmysuggestion,weadjournedtothestudyafterteaandIlookedoverthepapersinquestion.MaryClodeaccompaniedus.
“AquarterofanhourlaterIpreparedtotakemydeparture.RememberingthatIhadleftmyovercoatinthedrawingroom,Iwenttheretofetchit.TheonlyoccupantoftheroomwasMrs.Spragg,whowaskneelingbythechaironwhichtheovercoatlay.Sheseemedtobedoingsomethingratherunnecessarytothecretonnecover.Sherosewithaveryredfaceasweentered.
“‘Thatcoverneverdidsitright,’shecomplained.‘My!Icouldmakeabetterfitmyself.’
“Itookupmyovercoatandputiton.AsIdidsoInoticedthattheenvelopecontainingthewillhadfallenoutofthepocketandwaslyingonthefloor.Ireplaceditinmypocket,saidgoodbye,andtookmydeparture.
“Onarrivalatmyoffice,Iwilldescribemynextactionscarefully.Iremovedmyovercoatandtookthewillfromthepocket.Ihaditinmyhandandwasstandingbythetablewhenmyclerkcamein.Somebodywishedtospeaktomeonthetelephone,andtheextensiontomydeskwasoutoforder.Iaccordinglyaccompaniedhimtotheouterofficeandremainedthereforaboutfiveminutesengagedinconversationoverthetelephone.
“WhenIemerged,Ifoundmyclerkwaitingforme.
“‘Mr.Spragghascalledtoseeyou,sir.Ishowedhimintoyouroffice.’
“IwenttheretofindMr.Spraggsittingbythetable.Heroseandgreetedmeinasomewhatunctuousmanner,thenproceededtoalongdiscursivespeech.Inthemainitseemedtobeanuneasyjustificationofhimselfandhiswife.Hewasafraidpeopleweresayingetc.,etc.Hiswifehadbeenknownfromherbabyhoodupwardsforthepurenessofherheartandhermotives…andsoonandsoon.Iwas,Iamafraid,rathercurtwithhim.IntheendIthinkherealizedthathisvisitwasnotbeingasuccessandheleftsomewhatabruptly.IthenrememberedthatIhadleftthewilllyingonthetable.Itookit,sealedtheenvelope,andwroteonitandputitawayinthesafe.
“NowIcometothecruxofmystory.TwomonthslaterMr.SimonClodedied.Iwillnotgointolong-windeddiscussions,Iwilljuststatethebarefacts.Whenthesealedenvelopecontainingthewillwasopeneditwasfoundtocontainasheetofblankpaper.”
Hepaused,lookingroundthecircleofinterestedfaces.Hesmiledhimselfwithacertainenjoyment.
“Youappreciatethepoint,ofcourse?Fortwomonthsthesealedenvelopehadlaininmysafe.Itcouldnothavebeentamperedwiththen.No,thetimelimitwasaveryshortone.Betweenthemomentthewillwassignedandmylockingitawayinthesafe.Nowwhohadhadtheopportunity,andtowhoseinterestswoulditbetodoso?
“Iwillrecapitulatethevitalpointsinabriefsummary:ThewillwassignedbyMr.Clode,placedbymeinanenvelope—sofarsogood.Itwasthenputbymeinmyovercoatpocket.ThatovercoatwastakenfrommebyMaryandhandedbyhertoGeorge,whowasinfullsightofmewhilsthandlingthecoat.DuringthetimethatIwasinthestudyMrs.EurydiceSpraggwouldhavehadplentyoftimetoextracttheenvelopefromthecoatpocketandreaditscontentsand,asamatteroffact,findingtheenvelopeonthegroundandnotinthepocketseemedtopointtoherhavingdoneso.Butherewecometoacuriouspoint:shehadtheopportunityofsubstitutingtheblankpaper,butnomotive.Thewillwasinherfavour,andbysubstitutingablankpieceofpapershedespoiledherselfoftheheritageshehadbeensoanxioustogain.ThesameappliedtoMr.Spragg.He,too,hadtheopportunity.Hewasleftalonewiththedocumentinquestionforsometwoorthreeminutesinmyoffice.Butagain,itwasnottohisadvantagetodoso.Sowearefacedwiththiscuriousproblem:thetwopeoplewhohadtheopportunityofsubstitutingablankpieceofpaperhadnomotivefordoingso,andthetwopeoplewhohadamotivehadnoopportunity.Bytheway,Iwouldnotexcludethehousemaid,EmmaGaunt,fromsuspicion.ShewasdevotedtoheryoungmasterandmistressanddetestedtheSpraggs.Shewould,Ifeelsure,havebeenquiteequaltoattemptingthesubstitutionifshehadthoughtofit.Butalthoughsheactuallyhandledtheenvelopewhenshepickeditupfromthefloorandhandedittome,shecertainlyhadnoopportunityoftamperingwithitscontentsandshecouldnothavesubstitutedanotherenvelopebysomesleightofhand(ofwhichanywayshewouldnotbecapable)becausetheenvelopeinquestionwasbroughtintothehousebymeandnoonetherewouldbelikelytohaveaduplicate.”
Helookedround,beamingontheassembly.
“Now,thereismylittleproblem.Ihave,Ihope,stateditclearly.Ishouldbeinterestedtohearyourviews.”
Toeveryone’sastonishmentMissMarplegaveventtoalongandprolongedchuckle.Somethingseemedtobeamusingherimmensely.
“Whatisthematter,AuntJane?Can’twesharethejoke?”saidRaymond.
“IwasthinkingoflittleTommySymonds,anaughtylittleboy,Iamafraid,butsometimesveryamusing.Oneofthosechildrenwithinnocentchildlikefaceswhoarealwaysuptosomemischieforother.IwasthinkinghowlastweekinSundaySchoolhesaid,‘Teacher,doyousayyolkofeggsiswhiteoryolkofeggsarewhite?’AndMissDurstonexplainedthatanyonewouldsay‘yolksofeggsarewhite,oryolkofeggiswhite’—andnaughtyTommysaid:‘Well,Ishouldsayyolkofeggisyellow!’Verynaughtyofhim,ofcourse,andasoldasthehills.Iknewthatoneasachild.”
“Veryfunny,mydearAuntJane,”Raymondsaidgently,“butsurelythathasnothingtodowiththeveryinterestingstorythatMr.Petherickhasbeentellingus.”
“Ohyes,ithas,”saidMissMarple.“Itisacatch!AndsoisMr.Petherick’sstoryacatch.Solikealawyer!Ah,mydearoldfriend!”Sheshookareprovingheadathim.
“Iwonderifyoureallyknow,”saidthelawyerwithatwinkle.
MissMarplewroteafewwordsonapieceofpaper,foldedthemupandpassedthemacrosstohim.
Mr.Petherickunfoldedthepaper,readwhatwaswrittenonitandlookedacrossatherappreciatively.
“Mydearfriend,”hesaid,“isthereanythingyoudonotknow?”
“Iknewthatasachild,”saidMissMarple.“Playedwithittoo.”
“Ifeelratheroutofthis,”saidSirHenry.“IfeelsurethatMr.Petherickhassomecleverlegallegerdemainuphissleeve.”
“Notatall,”saidMr.Petherick.“Notatall.Itisaperfectlyfairstraightforwardproposition.YoumustnotpayanyattentiontoMissMarple.Shehasherownwayoflookingatthings.”
“Weshouldbeabletoarriveatthetruth,”saidRaymondWestatriflevexedly.“Thefactscertainlyseemplainenough.Fivepersonsactuallytouchedthatenvelope.TheSpraggsclearlycouldhavemeddledwithitbutequallyclearlytheydidnotdoso.Thereremainstheotherthree.Now,whenoneseesthemarvellouswaysthatconjurershaveofdoingathingbeforeone’seyes,itseemstomethatthepapercouldhavebeenextractedandanothersubstitutedbyGeorgeClodeduringthetimehewascarryingtheovercoattothefarendoftheroom.”
“Well,Ithinkitwasthegirl,”saidJoyce.“Ithinkthehousemaidrandownandtoldherwhatwashappeningandshegotholdofanotherblueenvelopeandjustsubstitutedtheonefortheother.”
SirHenryshookhishead.“Idisagreewithyouboth,”hesaidslowly.“Thesesortofthingsaredonebyconjurers,andtheyaredoneonthestageandinnovels,butIthinktheywouldbeimpossibletodoinreallife,especiallyundertheshrewdeyesofamanlikemyfriendMr.Petherickhere.ButIhaveanidea—itisonlyanideaandnothingmore.WeknowthatProfessorLongmanhadjustbeendownforavisitandthathesaidverylittle.ItisonlyreasonabletosupposethattheSpraggsmayhavebeenveryanxiousastotheresultofthatvisit.IfSimonClodedidnottakethemintohisconfidence,whichisquiteprobable,theymayhaveviewedhissendingforMr.Petherickfromquiteanotherangle.TheymayhavebelievedthatMr.ClodehadalreadymadeawillwhichbenefitedEurydiceSpraggandthatthisnewonemightbemadefortheexpresspurposeofcuttingheroutasaresultofProfessorLongman’srevelations,oralternatively,asyoulawyerssay,PhilipGarrodhadimpressedonhisuncletheclaimsofhisownfleshandblood.Inthatcase,supposeMrs.Spraggpreparedtoeffectasubstitution.Thisshedoes,butMr.Petherickcominginatanunfortunatemomentshehadnotimetoreadtherealdocumentandhastilydestroysitbyfireincasethelawyershoulddiscoverhisloss.”
Joyceshookherheadverydecidedly.
“Shewouldneverburnitwithoutreadingit.”
“Thesolutionisratheraweakone,”admittedSirHenry.“Isuppose—er—Mr.PetherickdidnotassistProvidencehimself.”
Thesuggestionwasonlyalaughingone,butthelittlelawyerdrewhimselfupinoffendeddignity.
“Amostimpropersuggestion,”hesaidwithsomeasperity.
“WhatdoesDr.Pendersay?”askedSirHenry.
“IcannotsayIhaveanyveryclearideas.IthinkthesubstitutionmusthavebeeneffectedbyeitherMrs.Spraggorherhusband,possiblyforthemotivethatSirHenrysuggests.IfshedidnotreadthewilluntilafterMr.Petherickhaddeparted,shewouldthenbeinsomewhatofadilemma,sinceshecouldnotownuptoheractioninthematter.PossiblyshewouldplaceitamongMr.Clode’spaperswhereshethoughtitwouldbefoundafterhisdeath.Butwhyitwasn’tfoundIdon’tknow.Itmightbeamerespeculationthis—thatEmmaGauntcameacrossit—andoutofmisplaceddevotiontoheremployers—deliberatelydestroyedit.”
“IthinkDr.Pender’ssolutionisthebestofall,”saidJoyce.“Isitright,Mr.Petherick?”
Thelawyershookhishead.
“IwillgoonwhereIleftoff.Iwasdumbfoundedandquiteasmuchatseaasallofyouare.Idon’tthinkIshouldeverhaveguessedthetruth—probablynot—butIwasenlightened.Itwascleverlydonetoo.
“IwentanddinedwithPhilipGarrodaboutamonthlaterandinthecourseofourafter-dinnerconversationhementionedaninterestingcasethathadrecentlycometohisnotice.”
“‘Ishouldliketotellyouaboutit,Petherick,inconfidence,ofcourse.’
“‘Quiteso,’Ireplied.
“‘Afriendofminewhohadexpectationsfromoneofhisrelativeswasgreatlydistressedtofindthatthatrelativehadthoughtsofbenefitingatotallyunworthyperson.Myfriend,Iamafraid,isatrifleunscrupulousinhismethods.TherewasamaidinthehousewhowasgreatlydevotedtotheinterestsofwhatImaycallthelegitimateparty.My
“Hebrokeoffandsaid:
“‘IhopeIamnotboringyou,Petherick.’
“‘Notatall,’Isaid.‘Iamkeenlyinterested.’
“Oureyesmet.
“‘Myfriendis,ofcourse,notknowntoyou,’hesaid.
“‘Ofcoursenot,’Ireplied.
“‘Thenthatisallright,’saidPhilipGarrod.
“Hepausedthensaidsmilingly,‘Youseethepoint?ThepenwasfilledwithwhatiscommonlyknownasEvanescentInk—asolutionofstarchinwatertowhichafewdropsofiodinehasbeenadded.Thismakesadeepblue-blackfluid,butthewritingdisappearsentirelyinfourorfivedays.’”
MissMarplechuckled.
“Disappearingink,”shesaid.“Iknowit.ManyisthetimeIhaveplayedwithitasachild.”
Andshebeamedroundonthemall,pausingtoshakeafingeroncemoreatMr.Petherick.
“Butallthesameit’sacatch,Mr.Petherick,”shesaid.“Justlikealawyer.”
Six
THETHUMBMARKOFST.PETER
“Andnow,AuntJane,itisuptoyou,”saidRaymondWest.
“Yes,AuntJane,weareexpectingsomethingreallyspicy,”chimedinJoyceLemprière.
“Now,youarelaughingatme,mydears,”saidMissMarpleplacidly.“YouthinkthatbecauseIhavelivedinthisout-of-the-wayspotallmylifeIamnotlikelytohavehadanyveryinterestingexperiences.”
“GodforbidthatIshouldeverregardvillagelifeaspeacefulanduneventful,”saidRaymondwithfervour.“Notafterthehorriblerevelationswehaveheardfromyou!ThecosmopolitanworldseemsamildandpeacefulplacecomparedwithSt.MaryMead.”
“Well,mydear,”saidMissMarple,“humannatureismuchthesameeverywhere,and,ofcourse,onehasopportunitiesofobservingitatclosequartersinavillage.”
“Youreallyareunique,AuntJane,”criedJoyce.“Ihopeyoudon’tmindmecallingyouAuntJane?”sheadded.“Idon’tknowwhyIdoit.”
“Don’tyou,mydear?”saidMissMarple.
Shelookedupforamomentortwowithsomethingquizzicalinherglance,whichmadethebloodflametothegirl’scheeks.RaymondWestfidgetedandclearedhisthroatinasomewhatembarrassedmanner.
MissMarplelookedatthembothandsmiledagain,andbentherattentiononcemoretoherknitting.
“Itistrue,ofcourse,thatIhavelivedwhatiscalledaveryuneventfullife,butIhavehadalotofexperienceinsolvingdifferentlittleproblemsthathavearisen.Someofthemhavebeenreallyquiteingenious,butitwouldbenogoodtellingthemtoyou,becausetheyareaboutsuchunimportantthingsthatyouwouldnotbeinterested—justthingslike:WhocutthemeshesofMrs.Jones’sstringbag?andwhyMrs.Simsonlyworehernewfurcoatonce.Veryinterestingthings,really,toanystudentofhumannature.No,theonlyexperienceIcanrememberthatwouldbeofinteresttoyouistheoneaboutmypoornieceMabel’shusband.
“Itisabouttenorfifteenyearsagonow,andhappilyitisalloveranddonewith,andeveryonehasforgottenaboutit.People’smemoriesareveryshort—aluckything,Ialwaysthink.”
MissMarplepausedandmurmuredtoherself:
“Imustjustcountthisrow.Thedecreasingisalittleawkward.One,two,three,four,five,andthenthreepurl;thatisright.Now,whatwasIsaying?Oh,yes,aboutpoorMabel.
“Mabelwasmyniece.Anicegirl,reallyaverynicegirl,butjustatriflewhatonemightcallsilly.Ratherfondofbeingmelodramaticandofsayingagreatdealmorethanshemeantwhenevershewasupset.ShemarriedaMr.Denmanwhenshewastwenty-two,andIamafraiditwasnotaveryhappymarriage.Ihadhopedverymuchthattheattachmentwouldnotcometoanything,forMr.Denmanwasamanofveryviolenttemper—notthekindofmanwhowouldbepatientwithMabel’sfoibles—andIalsolearnedthattherewasinsanityinhisfamily.However,girlswerejustasobstinatethenastheyarenow,andastheyalwayswillbe.AndMabelmarriedhim.
“Ididn’tseeverymuchofherafterhermarriage.Shecametostaywithmeonceortwice,andtheyaskedmethereseveraltimes,but,asamatteroffact,Iamnotveryfondofstayinginotherpeople’shouses,andIalwaysmanagedtomakesomeexcuse.TheyhadbeenmarriedtenyearswhenMr.Denmandiedsuddenly.Therewerenochildren,andheleftallhismoneytoMabel.Iwrote,ofcourse,andofferedtocometoMabelifshewantedme;butshewrotebackaverysensibleletter,andIgatheredthatshewasnotaltogetheroverwhelmedbygrief.Ithoughtthatwasonlynatural,becauseIknewtheyhadnotbeengettingontogetherforsometime.Itwasnotuntilaboutthreemonthsafterwards
“So,ofcourse,”continuedMissMarple,“IputClaraonboardwagesandsenttheplateandtheKingCharlestankardtothebank,andIwentoffatonce.IfoundMabelinaverynervousstate.Thehouse,MyrtleDene,wasafairlylargeone,verycomfortablyfurnished.Therewasacookandahouse-parlourmaidaswellasanurse-attendanttolookafteroldMr.Denman,Mabel’shusband’sfather,whowaswhatiscalled‘notquiterightinthehead.’Quitepeacefulandwell-behaved,butdistinctlyoddattimes.AsIsay,therewasinsanityinthefamily.
“IwasreallyshockedtoseethechangeinMabel.Shewasamassofnerves,twitchingallover,yetIhadthegreatestdifficultyinmakinghertellmewhatthetroublewas.Igotatit,asonealwaysdoesgetatthesethings,indirectly.Iaskedheraboutsomefriendsofhersshewasalwaysmentioninginherletters,theGallaghers.Shesaid,tomysurprise,thatshehardlyeversawthemnowadays.OtherfriendswhomImentionedelicitedthesameremark.Ispoketoherthenofthefollyofshuttingherselfupandbrooding,andespeciallyofthesillinessofcuttingherselfadriftfromherfriends.Thenshecameburstingoutwiththetruth.
“‘Itisnotmydoing,itistheirs.Thereisnotasoulintheplacewhowillspeaktomenow.WhenIgodowntheHighStreettheyallgetoutofthewaysothattheyshan’thavetomeetmeorspeaktome.Iamlikeakindofleper.Itisawful,andIcan’tbearitanylonger.Ishallhavetosellthehouseandgoabroad.YetwhyshouldIbedrivenawayfromahomelikethis?Ihavedonenothing.’
“IwasmoredisturbedthanIcantellyou.IwasknittingacomforterforoldMrs.Hayatthetime,andinmyperturbationIdroppedtwostitchesandneverdiscoveredituntillongafter.
“‘MydearMabel,’Isaid,‘youamazeme.Butwhatisthecauseofallthis?’
“EvenasachildMabelwasalwaysdifficult.Ihadthegreatestdifficultyingettinghertogivemeastraightforwardanswertomyquestion.Shewouldonlysayvaguethingsaboutwickedtalkandidlepeoplewhohadnothingbettertodothangossip,andpeoplewhoputideasintootherpeople’sheads.
“‘Thatisallquitecleartome,’Isaid.‘Thereisevidentlysomestorybeingcirculatedaboutyou.Butwhatthatstoryisyoumustknowaswellasanyone.Andyouaregoingtotellme.’
“‘Itissowicked,’moanedMabel.
“‘Ofcourseitiswicked,’Isaidbriskly.‘Thereisnothingthatyoucantellmeaboutpeople’smindsthatwouldastonishorsurpriseme.Now,Mabel,willyoutellmeinplainEnglishwhatpeoplearesayingaboutyou?’
“Thenitallcameout.
“ItseemedthatGeoffreyDenman’sdeath,beingquitesuddenandunexpected,gaverisetovariousrumours.Infact—andinplainEnglishasIhadputittoher—peopleweresayingthatshehadpoisonedherhusband.
“Now,asIexpectyouknow,thereisnothingmorecruelthantalk,andthereisnothingmoredifficulttocombat.Whenpeoplesaythingsbehindyourbackthereisnothingyoucanrefuteordeny,andtherumoursgoongrowingandgrowing,andnoonecanstopthem.Iwasquitecertainofonething:Mabelwasquiteincapableofpoisoninganyone.AndIdidn’tseewhylifeshouldberuinedforherandherhomemadeunbearablejustbecauseinallprobabilityshehadbeendoingsomethingsillyandfoolish.
“‘Thereisnosmokewithoutfire,’Isaid.‘Now,Mabel,youhavegottotellmewhatstartedpeopleoffonthistack.Theremusthavebeensomething.’
“Mabelwasveryincoherent,anddeclaredtherewasnothing—nothingatall,except,ofcourse,thatGeoffrey’sdeathhadbeenverysudden.Hehadseemedquitewellatsupperthatevening,andhadtakenviolentlyillinthenight.Thedoctorhadbeensentfor,butthepoormanhaddiedafewminutesafterthedoctor’sarrival.Deathhadbeenthoughttobetheresultofeatingpoisonedmushrooms.
“‘Well,’Isaid,‘Isupposeasuddendeathofthatkindmightstarttongueswagging,butsurelynotwithoutsomeadditionalfacts.DidyouhaveaquarrelwithGeoffreyoranythingofthatkind?’
“Sheadmittedthatshehadhadaquarrelwithhimontheprecedingmorningatbreakfasttime.
“‘Andtheservantsheardit,Isuppose?’Iasked.
“‘Theyweren’tintheroom.’
“‘No,mydear,’Isaid,‘buttheyprobablywerefairlynearthedooroutside.’
“IknewthecarryingpowerofMabel’shigh-pitchedhystericalvoiceonlytoowell.GeoffreyDenman,too,wasamangiventoraisinghisvoiceloudlywhenangry.
“‘Whatdidyouquarrelabout?’Iasked.
“‘Oh,theusualthings.Itwasalwaysthesamethingsoverandoveragain.Somelittlethingwouldstartusoff,andthenGeoffreybecameimpossibleandsaidabominablethings,andItoldhimwhatIthoughtofhim.’
“‘Therehadbeenalotofquarrelling,then?’Iasked.
“‘Itwasn’tmyfault—’
“‘Mydearchild,’Isaid,‘itdoesn’tmatterwhosefaultitwas.Thatisnotwhatwearediscussing.Inaplacelikethiseverybody’sprivateaffairsaremoreorlesspublicproperty.Youandyourhusbandwerealwaysquarrelling.Youhadaparticularlybadquarrelonemorning,andthatnightyourhusbanddiedsuddenlyandmysteriously.Isthatall,oristhereanythingelse?’
“‘Idon’tknowwhatyoumeanbyanythingelse,’saidMabelsullenly.
“‘JustwhatIsay,mydear.Ifyouhavedoneanythingsilly,don’tforHeaven’ssakekeepitbacknow.IonlywanttodowhatIcantohelpyou.’
“‘Nothingandnobodycanhelpme,’saidMabelwildly,‘exceptdeath.’
“‘HavealittlemorefaithinProvidence,dear,’Isaid.‘Nowthen,Mabel,Iknowperfectlywellthereissomethingelsethatyouarekeepingback.’
“Ialwaysdidknow,evenwhenshewasachild,whenshewasnottellingmethewholetruth.Ittookalongtime,butIgotitoutatlast.Shehadgonedowntothechemist’sthatmorningandhadboughtsomearsenic.Shehadhad,ofcourse,tosignthebookforit.Naturally,thechemisthadtalked.
“‘Whoisyourdoctor?’Iasked.
“‘Dr.Rawlinson.’
“Iknewhimbysight.Mabelhadpointedhimouttometheotherday.ToputitinperfectlyplainlanguagehewaswhatIwoulddescribeasanolddodderer.Ihavehadtoomuchexperienceoflifetobelieveintheinfallibilityofdoctors.Someofthemareclevermenandsomeofthemarenot,andhalfthetimethebestofthemdon’tknowwhatisthematterwithyou.Ihavenotruckwithdoctorsandtheirmedicinesmyself.
“Ithoughtthingsover,andthenIputmybonnetonandwenttocallonDr.Rawlinson.HewasjustwhatIhadthoughthim—aniceoldman,kindly,vague,andsoshortsightedastobepitiful,slightlydeaf,and,withal,touchyandsensitivetothelastdegree.HewasonhishighhorseatoncewhenImentionedGeoffreyDenman’sdeath,talkedforalongtimeaboutvariouskindsoffungi,edibleandotherwise.Hehadquestionedthecook,andshehadadmittedthatoneortwoofthemushroomscookedhadbeen‘alittlequeer,’butastheshophadsentthemshethoughttheymustbeallright.Themoreshehadthoughtaboutthemsince,themoreshewasconvincedthattheirappearancewasunusual.
“‘Shewouldbe,’Isaid.‘Theywouldstartbybeingquitelikemushroomsinappearance,andtheywouldendbybeingorangewithpurplespots.Thereisnothingthatclasscannotrememberifittries.’
“IgatheredthatDenmanhadbeenpastspeechwhenthedoctorgottohim.Hewasincapableofswallowing,andhaddiedwithinafewminutes.Thedoctorseemedperfectlysatisfiedwiththecertificatehehadgiven.ButhowmuchofthatwasobstinacyandhowmuchofitwasgenuinebeliefIcouldnotbesure.
“IwentstraighthomeandaskedMabelquitefranklywhyshehadboughtarsenic.
“‘Youmusthavehadsomeideainyourmind,’Ipointedout.
“Mabelburstintotears.‘Iwantedtomakeawaywithmyself,’shemoaned.‘Iwastoounhappy.IthoughtIwouldenditall.’
“‘Haveyouthearsenicstill?’Iasked.
“‘No,Ithrewitaway.’
“Isatthereturningthingsoverandoverinmymind.
“‘Whathappenedwhenhewastakenill?Didhecallyou?’
“‘No.’Sheshookherhead.‘Herangthebellviolently.Hemusthaverungseveraltimes.AtlastDorothy,thehouse-parlourmaid,heardit,andshewakedthecookup,andtheycamedown.WhenDorothysawhimshewasfrightened.Hewasramblinganddelirious.Sheleftthecookwithhimandcamerushingtome.Igotupandwenttohim.OfcourseIsawatoncehewasdreadfullyill.UnfortunatelyBrewster,wholooksafteroldMr.Denman,wasawayforthenight,sotherewasnoonewhoknewwhattodo.IsentDorothyoffforthedoctor,andcookandIstayedwithhim,butafterafewminutesIcouldn’tbearitanylonger;itwastoodreadful.Iranawaybacktomyroomandlockedthedoor.’
“‘Veryselfishandunkindofyou,’Isaid;‘andnodoubtthatconductofyourshasdonenothingtohelpyousince,youmaybesureofthat.Cookwillhaverepeatediteverywhere.Well,well,thisisabadbusiness.’
“NextIspoketotheservants.Thecookwantedtotellmeaboutthemushrooms,butIstoppedher.Iwastiredofthesemushrooms.Instead,Iquestionedbothofthemverycloselyabouttheirmaster’sconditiononthatnight.Theybothagreedthatheseemedtobeingreatagony,thathewasunabletoswallow,andhecouldonlyspeakinastrangledvoice,andwhenhedidspeakitwasonlyrambling—nothingsensible.
“‘Whatdidhesaywhenhewasrambling?’Iaskedcuriously.
“‘Somethingaboutsomefish,wasn’tit?’turningtotheother.
“Dorothyagreed.
“‘Aheapoffish,’shesaid;‘somenonsenselikethat.Icouldseeatoncehewasn’tinhisrightmind,poorgentleman.’
“Theredidn’tseemtobeanysensetobemadeoutofthat.AsalastresourceIwentuptoseeBrewster,whowasagaunt,middle-agedwomanofaboutfifty
“‘ItisapitythatIwasn’therethatnight,’shesaid.‘Nobodyseemstohavetriedtodoanythingforhimuntilthedoctorcame.’
“‘Isupposehewasdelirious,’Isaiddoubtfully;‘butthatisnotasymptomofptomainepoisoning,isit?’
“‘Itdepends,’saidBrewster.
“Iaskedherhowherpatientwasgettingon.
“Sheshookherhead.
“‘Heisprettybad,’shesaid.
“‘Weak?’
“‘Ohno,heisstrongenoughphysically—allbuthiseyesight.Thatisfailingbadly.Hemayoutliveallofus,buthismindisfailingveryfastnow.IhavealreadytoldbothMr.andMrs.Denmanthatheoughttobeinaninstitution,butMrs.Denmanwouldn’thearofitatanyprice.’
“IwillsayforMabelthatshealwayshadakindlyheart.
“Well,therethethingwas.Ithoughtitoverineveryaspect,andatlastIdecidedthattherewasonlyonethingtobedone.Inviewoftherumoursthatweregoingabout,permissionmustbeappliedfortoexhumethebody,andaproperpostmortemmustbemadeandlyingtonguesquietenedonceandforall.Mabel,ofcourse,madeafuss,mostlyonsentimentalgrounds—disturbingthedeadmaninhispeacefulgrave,etc.,etc.—butIwasfirm.
“Iwon’tmakealongstoryofthispartofit.Wegottheorderandtheydidtheautopsy,orwhatevertheycallit,buttheresultwasnotsosatisfactoryasitmighthavebeen.Therewasnotraceofarsenic—thatwasalltothegood—buttheactualwordsofthereportwerethattherewasnothingtoshowbywhatmeansdeceasedhadcometohisdeath.
“So,yousee,thatdidn’tleadusoutoftroublealtogether.Peoplewentontalking—aboutrarepoisonsimpossibletodetect,andrubbishofthatsort.Ihadseenthepathologistwhohaddonethepostmortem,andIhadaskedhimseveralquestions,thoughhetriedhisbesttogetoutofansweringmostofthem;butIgotoutofhimthatheconsideredithighlyunlikelythatthepoisonedmushroomswerethecauseofdeath.Anideawassimmeringinmymind,andIaskedhimwhatpoison,ifany,couldhavebeenemployedtoobtainthatresult.Hemadealongexplanationtome,mostofwhich,Imustadmit,Ididnotfollow,butitamountedtothis:Thatdeathmighthavebeenduetosomestrongvegetablealkaloid.
“TheideaIhadwasthis:SupposingthetaintofinsanitywasinGeoffreyDenman’sbloodalso,mighthenothavemadeawaywithhimself?Hehad,atoneperiodofhislife,studiedmedicine,andhewouldhaveagoodknowledgeofpoisonsandtheireffects.
“Ididn’tthinkitsoundedverylikely,butitwastheonlythingIcouldthinkof.AndIwasnearlyatmywits’end,Icantellyou.Now,Idaresayyoumodernyoungpeoplewilllaugh,butwhenIaminreallybadtroubleIalwayssayalittleprayertomyself—anywhere,whenIamwalkingalongthestreet,oratabazaar.AndIalwaysgetananswer.Itmaybesometriflingthing,apparentlyquiteunconnectedwiththesubject,butthereitis.IhadthattextpinnedovermybedwhenIwasalittlegirl:Askandyoushallreceive.OnthemorningthatIamtellingyouabout,IwaswalkingalongtheHighStreet,andIwasprayinghard.Ishutmyeyes,andwhenIopenedthem,whatdoyouthinkwasthefirstthingthatIsaw?”
FivefaceswithvaryingdegreesofinterestwereturnedtoMissMarple.Itmaybesafelyassumed,however,thatnoonewouldhaveguessedtheanswertothequestionright.
“Isaw,”saidMissMarpleimpressively,“thewindowofthefishmonger’sshop.Therewasonlyonethinginit,afreshhaddock.”
Shelookedroundtriumphantly.
“Oh,myGod!”saidRaymondWest.“Ananswertoprayer—afreshhaddock!”
“Yes,Raymond,”saidMissMarpleseverely,“andthereisnoneedtobeprofaneaboutit.ThehandofGodiseverywhere.ThefirstthingIsawweretheblackspots—themarksofSt.Peter’sthumb.Thatisthelegend,youknow.St.Peter’sthumb.Andthatbroughtthingshometome.Ineededfaith,theevertruefaithofSt.Peter.Iconnectedthetwothingstogether,faith—andfish.”
SirHenryblewhisnoseratherhurriedly.Joycebitherlip.
“Nowwhatdidthatbringtomymind?Ofcourse,boththecookandhouse-parlourmaidmentionedfishasbeingoneofthethingsspokenofbythedyingman.Iwasconvinced,absolutelyconvinced,thattherewassomesolutionofthemysterytobefoundinthesewords.Iwenthomedeterminedtogettothebottomofthematter.”
Shepaused.
“Hasiteveroccurredtoyou,”theoldladywenton,“howmuchwegobywhatiscalled,Ibelieve,thecontext?ThereisaplaceonDartmoorcalledGreyWethers.IfyouweretalkingtoafarmerthereandmentionedGreyWethers,hewouldprobablyconcludethatyouwerespeakingofthesestonecircles,yetitispossiblethatyoumightbespeakingoftheatmosphere;andinthesameway,ifyouweremeaningthestonecircles,anoutsider,hearingafragmentoftheconversation,mightthinkyoumeanttheweather.Sowhenwerepeataconversation,wedon’t,asarule,repeattheactualwords;weputinsomeotherwordsthatseemtoustomeanexactlythesamething.
“IsawboththecookandDorothyseparately.Iaskedthecookifshewasquitesurethathermasterhadreallymentionedaheapoffish.Shesaidshewasquitesure.
“‘Werethesehisexactwords,’Iasked,‘ordidhementionsomeparticularkindoffish?’
“‘That’sit,’saidthecook;‘itwassomeparticularkindoffish,butIcan’trememberwhatnow.Aheapof—nowwhatwasit?Notanyofthefishyousendtotable.Woulditbeaperchnow—orpike?No.Itdidn’tbeginwithaP.’
“Dorothyalsorecalledthathermasterhadmentionedsomespecialkindoffish.‘Someoutlandishkindoffishitwas,’shesaid.
“‘Apileof—nowwhatwasit?’
“‘Didhesayheaporpile?’Iasked.
“‘Ithinkhesaidpile.Butthere,Ireallycan’tbesure—it’ssohardtoremembertheactualwords,isn’tit,miss,especiallywhentheydon’tseemtomakesense.ButnowIcometothinkofit,Iamprettysurethatitwasapile,andthefishbeganwithC;butitwasn’tacodoracrayfish.’
“ThenextpartiswhereIamreallyproudofmyself,”saidMissMarple,“because,ofcourse,Idon’tknowanythingaboutdrugs—nasty,dangerousthingsIcallthem.Ihavegotanoldrecipeofmygrandmother’sfortansyteathatisworthanyamountofyourdrugs.ButIknewthattherewereseveralmedicalvolumesinthehouse,andinoneofthemtherewasanindexofdrugs.Yousee,myideawasthatGeoffreyhadtakensomeparticularpoison,andwastryingtosaythenameofit.
“Well,IlookeddownthelistofH’s,beginningHe.Nothingtherethatsoundedlikely;thenIbeganontheP’s,andalmostatonceIcameto—whatdoyouthink?”
Shelookedround,postponinghermomentoftriumph.
“Pilocarpine.Can’tyouunderstandamanwhocouldhardlyspeaktryingtodragthatwordout?Whatwouldthatsoundliketoacookwhohadneverheardtheword?Wouldn’titconveytheimpression‘pileofcarp?’”
“ByJove!”saidSirHenry.
“Ishouldneverhavehituponthat,”saidDr.Pender.
“Mostinteresting,”saidMr.Petherick.“Reallymostinteresting.”
“Iturnedquicklytothepageindicatedintheindex.Ireadaboutpilocarpineanditseffectontheeyesandotherthingsthatdidn’tseemtohaveanybearingonthecase,butatlastIcametoamostsignificantphrase:Hasbeentriedwithsuccessasanantidoteforatropinepoisoning.
“Ican’ttellyouthelightthatdawneduponmethen.IneverhadthoughtitlikelythatGeoffreyDenmanwouldcommitsuicide.No,thisnewsolutionwasnotonlypossible,butIwasabsolutelysureitwasthecorrectone,becauseallthepiecesfittedinlogically.”
“Iamnotgoingtotrytoguess,”saidRaymond.“Goon,AuntJane,andtelluswhatwassostartlinglycleartoyou.”
“Idon’tknowanythingaboutmedicine,ofcourse,”saidMissMarple,“butIdidhappentoknowthis,thatwhenmyeyesightwasfailing,thedoctororderedmedropswithatropinesulphateinthem.IwentstraightupstairstooldMr.Denman’sroom.Ididn’tbeataboutthebush.
“‘Mr.Denman,’Isaid,‘Iknoweverything.Whydidyoupoisonyourson?’
“Helookedatmeforaminuteortwo—ratherahandsomeoldmanhewas,inhisway—andthenheburstoutlaughing.ItwasoneofthemostviciouslaughsIhaveeverheard.Icanassureyouitmademyfleshcreep.Ihadonlyheardanythinglikeitoncebefore,whenpoorMrs.Joneswentoffherhead.
“‘Yes,’hesaid,‘IgotevenwithGeoffrey.IwastoocleverforGeoffrey.Hewasgoingtoputmeaway,washe?Havemeshutupinanasylum?Iheardthemtalkingaboutit.Mabelisagoodgirl—Mabelstuckupforme,butIknewshewouldn’tbeabletostandupagainstGeoffrey.Intheendhewouldhavehisownway;healwaysdid.ButIsettledhim—Isettledmykind,lovingson!Ha,ha!Icreptdowninthenight.Itwasquiteeasy.Brewsterwasaway.Mydearsonwasasleep;hehadaglassofwaterbythesideofhisbed;healwayswokeupinthemiddleofthenightanddrankitoff.Ipoureditaway—ha,ha!—andIemptiedthebottleofeyedropsintotheglass.Hewouldwakeupandswillitdownbeforeheknewwhatitwas.Therewasonlyatablespoonfulofit—quiteenough,quiteenough.Andsohedid!Theycametomeinthemorningandbrokeittomeverygently.Theywereafraiditwouldupsetme.Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!’
“Well,”saidMissMarple,“thatistheendofthestory.Ofcourse,thepooroldmanwasputinanasylum.Hewasn’treallyresponsibleforwhathehaddone,andthetruthwasknown,andeveryonewassorryforMabelandcouldnotdoenoughtomakeuptoherfortheunjustsuspicionstheyhadhad.Butifithadn’tbeenforGeoffreyrealizingwhatthestuffwashehadswallowedandtryingtogeteverybodytogetholdoftheantidotewithoutdelay,itmightneverhavebeenfoundout.Ibelievethereareverydefinitesymptomswithatropine—dilatedpupilsoftheeyes,andallthat;but,ofcourse,asIhavesaid,Dr.Rawlinsonwasveryshortsighted,pooroldman.AndinthesamemedicalbookwhichIwentonreading—andsomeofitwasmostinteresting—itgavethesymptomsofptomainepoisoningandatropine,andtheyarenotunlike.ButIcanassureyouIhaveneverseenapileoffreshhaddockwithoutthinkingofthethumbmarkofSt.Peter.”
Therewasaverylongpause.
“Mydearfriend,”saidMr.Petherick.“Myverydearfriend,youreallyareamazing.”
“IshallrecommendScotlandYardtocometoyouforadvice,”saidSirHenry.
“Well,atallevents,AuntJane,”saidRaymond,“thereisonethingthatyoudon’tknow.”
“Oh,yes,Ido,dear,”saidMissMarple.“Ithappenedjustbeforedinner,didn’tit?WhenyoutookJoyceouttoadmirethesunset.Itisaveryfavouriteplace,that.Therebythejasminehedge.ThatiswherethemilkmanaskedAnnieifhecouldputupthebanns.”
“Dashitall,AuntJane,”saidRaymond,“don’tspoilalltheromance.JoyceandIaren’tlikethemilkmanandAnnie.”
“Thatiswhereyoumakeamistake,dear,”saidMissMarple.“Everybodyisverymuchalike,really.Butfortunately,perhaps,theydon’trealizeit.”
Seven
THEBLUEGERANIUM
“WhenIwasdownherelastyear—”saidSirHenryClithering,andstopped.
Hishostess,Mrs.Bantry,lookedathimcuriously.
TheEx-CommissionerofScotlandYardwasstayingwitholdfriendsofhis,ColonelandMrs.Bantry,wholivednearSt.MaryMead.
Mrs.Bantry,peninhand,hadjustaskedhisadviceastowhoshouldbeinvitedtomakeasixthguestatdinnerthatevening.
“Yes?”saidMrs.Bantryencouragingly.“Whenyouwereherelastyear?”
“Tellme,”saidSirHenry,“doyouknowaMissMarple?”
Mrs.Bantrywassurprised.Itwasthelastthingshehadexpected.
“KnowMissMarple?Whodoesn’t!Thetypicaloldmaidoffiction.Quiteadear,buthopelesslybehindthetimes.Doyoumeanyouwouldlikemetoaskhertodinner?”
“Youaresurprised?”
“Alittle,Imustconfess.Ishouldhardlyhavethoughtyou—butperhapsthere’sanexplanation?”
“Theexplanationissimpleenough.WhenIwasdownherelastyearwegotintothehabitofdiscussingunsolvedmysteries—therewerefiveorsixofus—RaymondWest,thenovelist,startedit.Weeachsuppliedastorytowhichweknewtheanswer,butnobodyelsedid.Itwassupposedtobeanexerciseinthedeductivefaculties—toseewhocouldgetnearestthetruth.”
“Well?”
“Likeintheoldstory—wehardlyrealizedthatMissMarplewasplaying;butwewereverypoliteaboutit—didn’twanttohurttheolddear’sfeelings.Andnowcomesthecreamofthejest.Theoldladyoutdiduseverytime!”
“What?”
“Iassureyou—straighttothetruthlikeahomingpigeon.”
“Buthowextraordinary!Why,dearoldMissMarplehashardlyeverbeenoutofSt.MaryMead.”
“Ah!Butaccordingtoher,thathasgivenherunlimitedopportunitiesofobservinghumannature—underthemicroscopeasitwere.”
“Isupposethere’ssomethinginthat,”concededMrs.Bantry.“Onewouldatleastknowthepettysideofpeople.ButIdon’tthinkwehaveanyreallyexcitingcriminalsinourmidst.IthinkwemusttryherwithArthur’sghoststoryafterdinner.I’dbethankfulifshe’dfindasolutiontothat.”
“Ididn’tknowthatArthurbelievedinghosts?”
“Oh!hedoesn’t.That’swhatworrieshimso.Andithappenedtoafriendofhis,GeorgePritchard—amostprosaicperson.It’sreallyrathertragicforpoorGeorge.Eitherthisextraordinarystoryistrue—orelse—”
“Orelsewhat?”
Mrs.Bantrydidnotanswer.Afteraminuteortwoshesaidirrelevantly:
“Youknow,IlikeGeorge—everyonedoes.Onecan’tbelievethathe—butpeopledodosuchextraordinarythings.”
SirHenrynodded.Heknew,betterthanMrs.Bantry,theextraordinarythingsthatpeopledid.
SoitcameaboutthatthateveningMrs.Bantrylookedroundherdinnertable(shiveringalittleasshedidso,becausethediningroom,likemostEnglishdiningrooms,wasextremelycold)andfixedhergazeontheveryuprightoldladysittingonherhusband’sright.MissMarpleworeblacklacemittens;anoldlacefichuwasdrapedroundhershouldersandanotherpieceoflacesurmountedherwhitehair.Shewastalkinganimatedlytotheelderlydoctor,Dr.Lloyd,abouttheWorkhouseandthesuspectedshortcomingsoftheDistrictNurse.
Mrs.Bantrymarvelledanew.SheevenwonderedwhetherSirHenryhadbeenmakinganelaboratejoke—butthereseemednopointinthat.Incrediblethatwhathehadsaidcouldbereallytrue.
Herglancewentonandrestedaffectionatelyonherred-facedbroad-shoulderedhusbandashesattalkinghorsestoJaneHelier,thebeautifulandpopularactress.Jane,morebeautiful(ifthatwerepossible)offthestagethanon,openedenormousblueeyesandmurmuredatdiscreetintervals:“Really?”“Ohfancy!”“Howextraordinary!”Sheknewnothingwhateverabouthorsesandcaredless.
“Arthur,”saidMrs.Bantry,“you’reboringpoorJanetodistraction.Leavehorsesaloneandtellheryourghoststoryinstead.Youknow…GeorgePritchard.”
“Eh,Dolly?Oh!butIdon’tknow—”
“SirHenrywantstohearittoo.Iwastellinghimsomethingaboutitthismorning.Itwouldbeinterestingtohearwhateveryonehastosayaboutit.”
“Ohdo!”saidJane.“Iloveghoststories.”
“Well—”ColonelBantryhesitated.“I’veneverbelievedmuchinthesupernatural.Butthis—
“Idon’tthinkanyofyouknowGeorgePritchard.He’soneofthebest.Hiswife—well,she’sdeadnow,poorwoman.I’lljustsaythismuch:shedidn’tgiveGeorgeanytooeasyatimewhenshewasalive.Shewasoneofthosesemi-invalids—Ibelieveshehadreallysomethingwrongwithher,butwhateveritwassheplayeditforallitwasworth.Shewascapricious,exacting,unreasonable.Shecomplainedfrommorningtonight.Georgewasexpectedtowaitonherhandandfoot,andeverythinghedidwasalwayswrongandhegotcursedforit.Mostmen,I’mfullyconvinced,wouldhavehitherovertheheadwithahatchetlongago.Eh,Dolly,isn’tthatso?”
“Shewasadreadfulwoman,”saidMrs.Bantrywithconviction.“IfGeorgePritchardhadbrainedherwithahatchet,andtherehadbeenanywomanonthejury,hewouldhavebeentriumphantlyacquitted.”
“Idon’tquiteknowhowthisbusinessstarted.Georgewasrathervagueaboutit.IgatherMrs.Pritchardhadalwayshadaweaknessforfortune-tellers,palmists,clairvoyantes—anythingofthatsort.Georgedidn’tmind.Ifshefoundamusementinitwellandgood.Butherefusedtogointorhapsodieshimself,andthatwasanothergrievance.
“Asuccessionofhospitalnurseswasalwayspassingthroughthehouse,Mrs.Pritchardusuallybecomingdissatisfiedwiththemafterafewweeks.Oneyoungnursehadbeenverykeenonthisfortune-tellingstunt,andforatimeMrs.Pritchardhadbeenveryfondofher.Thenshesuddenlyfelloutwithherandinsistedonhergoing.Shehadbackanothernursewhohadbeenwithherpreviously—anolderwoman,experiencedandtactfulindealingwithaneuroticpatient.NurseCopling,accordingtoGeorge,wasaverygoodsort—asensiblewomantotalkto.SheputupwithMrs.Pritchard’stantrumsandnervestormswithcompleteindifference.
“Mrs.Pritchardalwayslunchedupstairs,anditwasusualatlunchtimeforGeorgeandthenursetocometosomearrangementfortheafternoon.Strictlyspeaking,thenursewentofffromtwotofour,but‘tooblige’asthephrasegoes,shewouldsometimestakehertimeoffafterteaifGeorgewantedtobefreefortheafternoon.Onthisoccasion,shementionedthatshewasgoingtoseeasisteratGoldersGreenandmightbealittlelatereturning.George’sfacefell,forhehadarrangedtoplayaroundofgolf.NurseCopling,however,reassuredhim.
“‘We’llneitherofusbemissed,Mr.Pritchard.’Atwinklecameintohereye.‘Mrs.Pritchard’sgoingtohavemoreexcitingcompanythanours.’
“‘Who’sthat?’
“‘Waitaminute,’NurseCopling’seyestwinkledmorethanever.‘Letmegetitright.Zarida,PsychicReaderoftheFuture.’
“‘OhLord!’groanedGeorge.‘That’sanewone,isn’tit?’
“‘Quitenew.Ibelievemypredecessor,NurseCarstairs,sentheralong.Mrs.Pritchardhasn’tseenheryet.Shemademewrite,fixinganappointmentforthisafternoon.’
“‘Well,atanyrate,Ishallgetmygolf,’saidGeorge,andhewentoffwiththekindliestfeelingstowardsZarida,theReaderoftheFuture.
“Onhisreturntothehouse,hefoundMrs.Pritchardinastateofgreatagitation.Shewas,asusual,lyingonherinvalidcouch,andshehadabottleofsmellingsaltsinherhandwhichshesniffedatfrequentintervals.
“‘George,’sheexclaimed.‘WhatdidItellyouaboutthishouse?ThemomentIcameintoit,Ifelttherewassomethingwrong!Didn’tItellyousoatthetime?’
“Repressinghisdesiretoreply,‘Youalwaysdo,’Georgesaid,‘No,Ican’tsayIrememberit.’
“‘Youneverdorememberanythingthathastodowithme.Menareallextraordinarilycallous—butIreallybelievethatyouareevenmoreinsensitivethanmost.’
“‘Oh,comenow,Marydear,that’snotfair.’
“‘Well,asIwastellingyou,thiswomanknewatonce!She—sheactuallyblenched—ifyouknowwhatImean—asshecameinatthedoor,andshesaid:‘Thereisevilhere—evilanddanger.Ifeelit’”
“VeryunwiselyGeorgelaughed.
“‘Well,youhavehadyourmoney’sworththisafternoon.’
“Hiswifeclosedhereyesandtookalongsnifffromhersmellingbottle.
“‘Howyouhateme!YouwouldjeerandlaughifIweredying.’
“Georgeprotestedandafteraminuteortwoshewenton.
“‘Youmaylaugh,butIshalltellyouthewholething.Thishouseisdefinitelydangeroustome—thewomansaidso.’
“George’sformerlykindfeelingtowardsZaridaunderwentachange.Heknewhiswifewasperfectlycapableofinsistingonmovingtoanewhouseifthecapricegotholdofher.
“‘Whatelsedidshesay?’heasked.
“‘Shecouldn’ttellmeverymuch.Shewassoupset.Onethingshedidsay.Ihadsomevioletsinaglass.Shepointedatthemandcriedout:
“‘Takethoseaway.Noblueflowers—neverhaveblueflowers.Blueflowersarefataltoyou—rememberthat’”
“‘Andyouknow,’addedMrs.Pritchard,‘Ialwayshavetoldyouthatblueasacolourisrepellenttome.Ifeelanaturalinstinctivesortofwarningagainst.’
“Georgewasmuchtoowisetoremarkthathehadneverheardhersaysobefore.InsteadheaskedwhatthemysteriousZaridawaslike.Mrs.Pritchardenteredwithgustouponadescription.
“‘Blackhairincoiledknobsoverherears—hereyeswerehalfclosed—greatblackrimsroundthem—shehadablackveiloverhermouthandchin—andshespokeinakindofsingingvoicewithamarkedforeignaccent—Spanish,Ithink—’
“‘Infactalltheusualstock-in-trade,’saidGeorgecheerfully.
“Hiswifeimmediatelyclosedhereyes.
“‘Ifeelextremelyill,’shesaid.‘Ringfornurse.Unkindnessupsetsme,asyouknowonlytoowell.’
“ItwastwodayslaterthatNurseCoplingcametoGeorgewithagraveface.
“‘WillyoucometoMrs.Pritchard,please.Shehashadaletterwhichupsetshergreatly.’
“Hefoundhiswifewiththeletterinherhand.Shehelditouttohim.
“‘Readit,’shesaid.
“Georgereadit.Itwasonheavilyscentedpaper,andthewritingwasbigandblack.
“Ihaveseenthefuture.Bewarnedbeforeitistoolate.BewareoftheFullMoonTheBluePrimrosemeansWarning;theBlueHollyhockmeansDanger;theBlueGeraniummeansDeath
“Justabouttoburstoutlaughing,GeorgecaughtNurseCopling’seye.Shemadeaquickwarninggesture.Hesaidratherawkwardly,‘Thewoman’sprobablytryingtofrightenyou,Mary.Anywaytherearen’tsuchthingsasblueprimrosesandbluegeraniums.’
“ButMrs.Pritchardbegantocryandsayherdayswerenumbered.NurseCoplingcameoutwithGeorgeuponthelanding.
“‘Ofallthesillytomfoolery,’heburstout.
“‘Isupposeitis.’
“Somethinginthenurse’stonestruckhim,andhestaredatherinamazement
“‘Surely,nurse,youdon’tbelieve—’
“No,no,Mr.Pritchard.Idon’tbelieveinreadingthefuture—that’snonsense.Whatpuzzlesmeisthemeaningofthis.Fortunetellersareusuallyoutforwhattheycanget.ButthiswomanseemstobefrighteningMrs.Pritchardwithnoadvantagetoherself.Ican’tseethepoint.There’sanotherthing—’
“‘Yes?’
“‘Mrs.PritchardsaysthatsomethingaboutZaridawasfaintlyfamiliartoher.’
“‘Well?’
“‘Well,Idon’tlikeit,Mr.Pritchard,that’sall.’
“‘Ididn’tknowyouweresosuperstitious,nurse.’
“‘I’mnotsuperstitious;butIknowwhenathingisfishy.’
“Itwasaboutfourdaysafterthisthatthefirstincidenthappened.Toexplainittoyou,IshallhavetodescribeMrs.Pritchard’sroom—”
“You’dbetterletmedothat,”interruptedMrs.Bantry.“Itwaspaperedwithoneofthosenewwallpaperswhereyouapplyclumpsofflowerstomakeakindofherbaceousborder.Theeffectisalmostlikebeinginagarden—though,ofcourse,theflowersareallwrong.Imeantheysimplycouldn’tbeinbloomallatthesametime—”
“Don’tletapassionforhorticulturalaccuracyrunawaywithyou,Dolly,”saidherhusband.“Weallknowyou’reanenthusiasticgardener.”
“Well,itisabsurd,”protestedMrs.Bantry.“TohavebluebellsanddaffodilsandlupinsandhollyhocksandMichaelmasdaisiesallgroupedtogether.”
“Mostunscientific,”saidSirHenry.“Buttoproceedwiththestory.”
“Well,amongthesemassedflowerswereprimroses,clumpsofyellowandpinkprimrosesand—ohgoon,Arthur,thisisyourstory—”
ColonelBantrytookupthetale.
“Mrs.Pritchardrangherbellviolentlyonemorning.Thehouseholdcamerunning—thoughtshewasinextremis;notatall.Shewasviolentlyexcitedandpointingatthewallpaper;andtheresureenoughwasoneblueprimroseinthemidstoftheothers….”
“Oh!”saidMissHelier,“howcreepy!”
“Thequestionwas:Hadn’ttheblueprimrosealwaysbeenthere?ThatwasGeorge’ssuggestionandthenurse’s.ButMrs.Pritchardwouldn’thaveitatanyprice.Shehadnevernoticedittillthatverymorningandthenightbeforehadbeenfullmoon.Shewasveryupsetaboutit.”
“ImetGeorgePritchardthatsamedayandhetoldmeaboutit,”saidMrs.Bantry.“IwenttoseeMrs.Pritchardanddidmybesttoridiculethewholething;butwithoutsuccess.Icameawayreallyconcerned,andIrememberImetJeanInstowandtoldheraboutit.Jeanisaqueergirl.Shesaid,‘Soshe’sreallyupsetaboutit?’ItoldherthatIthoughtthewomanwasperfectlycapableofdyingoffright—shewasreallyabnormallysuperstitious.
“IrememberJeanratherstartledmewithwhatshesaidnext.Shesaid,‘Well,thatmightbeallforthebest,mightn’tit?’Andshesaiditsocoolly,insomatter-of-factatonethatIwasreally—well,shocked.OfcourseIknowit’sdonenowadays—tobebrutalandoutspoken;butInevergetusedtoit.Jeansmiledatmeratheroddlyandsaid,‘Youdon’tlikemysayingthat—butit’strue.WhatuseisMrs.Pritchard’slifetoher?Noneatall;andit’shellforGeorgePritchard.Tohavehiswifefrightenedoutofexistencewouldbethebestthingthatcouldhappentohim.’Isaid,‘Georgeismostawfullygoodtoheralways.’Andshesaid,‘Yes,hedeservesareward,poordear.He’saveryattractiveperson,GeorgePritchard.Thelastnursethoughtso—theprettyone—whatwashername?Carstairs.ThatwasthecauseoftherowbetweenherandMrs.P.’
“NowIdidn’tlikehearingJeansaythat.Ofcourseonehadwondered—”
Mrs.Bantrypausedsignificantly.
“Yes,dear,”saidMissMarpleplacidly.“Onealwaysdoes.IsMissInstowaprettygirl?Isupposesheplaysgolf?”
“Yes.She’sgoodatallgames.Andshe’snice-looking,attractive-looking,veryfairwithahealthyskin,andnicesteadyblueeyes.OfcoursewealwayshavefeltthatsheandGeorgePritchard—Imeanifthingshadbeendifferent—theyaresowellsuitedtooneanother.”
“Andtheywerefriends?”askedMissMarple.
“Ohyes.Greatfriends.”
“Doyouthink,Dolly,”saidColonelBantryplaintively,“thatImightbeallowedtogoonwithmystory?”
“Arthur,”saidMrs.Bantryresignedly,“wantstogetbacktohisghosts.”
“IhadtherestofthestoryfromGeorgehimself,”wentontheColonel.“There’snodoubtthatMrs.Pritchardgotthewindupbadlytowardstheendofthenextmonth.Shemarkedoffonacalendarthedaywhenthemoonwouldbefull,andonthatnightshehadboththenurseandthenGeorgeintoherroomandmadethemstudythewallpapercarefully.Therewerepinkhollyhocksandredones,buttherewerenoblueamongstthem.ThenwhenGeorgelefttheroomshelockedthedoor—”
“Andinthemorningtherewasalargebluehollyhock,”saidMissHelierjoyfully.
“Quiteright,”saidColonelBantry.“Oratanyrate,nearlyright.Oneflowerofahollyhockjustaboveherheadhadturnedblue.ItstaggeredGeorge;andofcoursethemoreitstaggeredhimthemoreherefusedtotakethethingseriously.Heinsistedthatthewholethingwassomekindofpracticaljoke.HeignoredtheevidenceofthelockeddoorandthefactthatMrs.Pritcharddiscoveredthechangebeforeanyone—evenNurseCopling—wasadmitted.
“ItstaggeredGeorge;anditmadehimunreasonable.Hiswifewantedtoleavethehouse,andhewouldn’tlether.Hewasinclinedtobelieveinthesupernaturalforthefirsttime,buthewasn’tgoingtoadmitit.Heusuallygaveintohiswife,butthistimehewouldn’t.Marywasnottomakeafoolofherself,hesaid.Thewholethingwasthemostinfernalnonsense.
“Andsothenextmonthspedaway.Mrs.Pritchardmadelessprotestthanonewouldhaveimagined.Ithinkshewassuperstitiousenoughtobelievethatshecouldn’tescapeherfate.Sherepeatedagainandagain:‘Theblueprimrose—warning.Thebluehollyhock—danger.Thebluegeranium—death.’Andshewouldlielookingattheclumpofpinky-redgeraniumsnearestherbed.
“Thewholebusinesswasprettynervy.Eventhenursecaughttheinfection.ShecametoGeorgetwodaysbeforefullmoonandbeggedhimtotakeMrs.Pritchardaway.Georgewasangry.
“‘Ifalltheflowersonthatdamnedwallturnedintobluedevilsitcouldn’tkillanyone!’heshouted.
“‘Itmight.Shockhaskilledpeoplebeforenow.’
“‘Nonsense,’saidGeorge.
“Georgehasalwaysbeenashadepigheaded.Youcan’tdrivehim.Ibelievehehadasecretideathathiswifeworkedthechangeherselfandthatitwasallsomemorbidhystericalplanofhers.
“Well,thefatalnightcame.Mrs.Pritchardlockedthedoorasusual.Shewasverycalm—inalmostanexaltedstateofmind.Thenursewasworriedbyherstate—wantedtogiveherastimulant,aninjectionofstrychnine,butMrs.Pritchardrefused.Inaway,Ibelieve,shewasenjoyingherself.Georgesaidshewas.”
“Ithinkthat’squitepossible,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Theremusthavebeenastrangesortofglamouraboutthewholething.”
“Therewasnoviolentringingofabellthenextmorning.Mrs.Pritchardusuallywokeabouteight.When,ateightthirty,therewasnosignfromher,nurserappedloudlyonthedoor.Gettingnoreply,shefetchedGeorge,andinsistedonthedoorbeingbrokenopen.Theydidsowiththehelpofachisel.
“OnelookatthestillfigureonthebedwasenoughforNurseCopling.ShesentGeorgetotelephoneforthedoctor,butitwastoolate.Mrs.Pritchard,hesaid,musthavebeendeadatleasteighthours.Hersmellingsaltslaybyherhandonthebed,andonthewallbesideheroneofthepinky-redgeraniumswasabrightdeepblue.”
“Horrible,”saidMissHelierwithashiver.
SirHenrywasfrowning.
“Noadditionaldetails?”
ColonelBantryshookhishead,butMrs.Bantryspokequickly.
“Thegas.”
“Whataboutthegas?”askedSirHenry
“Whenthedoctorarrivedtherewasaslightsmellofgas,andsureenoughhefoundthegasringinthefireplaceveryslightlyturnedon;butsolittleitcouldn’thavemattered.”
“DidMr.Pritchardandthenursenotnoticeitwhentheyfirstwentin?”
“Thenursesaidshedidnoticeaslightsmell.Georgesaidhedidn’tnoticegas,butsomethingmadehimfeelveryqueerandovercome;butheputthatdowntoshock—andprobablyitwas.Atanyratetherewasnoquestionofgaspoisoning.Thesmellwasscarcelynoticeable.”
“Andthat’stheendofthestory?”
“No,itisn’t.Onewayandanother,therewasalotoftalk.Theservants,yousee,hadoverheardthings—hadheard,forinstance,Mrs.Pritchardtellingherhusbandthathehatedherandwouldjeerifsheweredying.Andalsomorerecentremarks.Shehadsaidoneday,aproposofhisrefusingtoleavethehouse:‘Verywell,whenIamdead,Ihopeeveryonewillrealizethatyouhavekilledme.’Andasillluckwouldhaveit,hehadbeenmixingsomeweedkillerforthegardenpathsthedaybefore.Oneoftheyoungerservantshadseenhimandhadafterwardsseenhimtakingupaglassofhotmilkforhiswife.
“Thetalkspreadandgrew.Thedoctorhadgivenacertificate—Idon’tknowexactlyinwhatterms—shock,syncope,heartfailure,probablysomemedicaltermsmeaningnothingmuch.Howeverthepoorladyhadnotbeenamonthinhergravebeforeanexhumationorderwasappliedforandgranted.”
“Andtheresultoftheautopsywasnil,Iremember,”saidSirHenrygravely.“Acase,foronce,ofsmokewithoutfire.”
“Thewholethingisreallyverycurious,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Thatfortune-teller,forinstance—Zarida.Attheaddresswhereshewassupposedtobe,noonehadeverheardofanysuchperson!”
“Sheappearedonce—outoftheblue,”saidherhusband,“andthenutterlyvanished.Outoftheblue—that’srathergood!”
“Andwhatismore,”continuedMrs.Bantry,“littleNurseCarstairs,whowassupposedtohaverecommendedher,hadneverevenheardofher.”
Theylookedateachother.
“It’samysteriousstory,”saidDr.Lloyd.“Onecanmakeguesses;buttoguess—”
Heshookhishead.
“HasMr.PritchardmarriedMissInstow?”askedMissMarpleinhergentlevoice.
“Nowwhydoyouaskthat?”inquiredSirHenry.
MissMarpleopenedgentleblueeyes.
“Itseemstomesoimportant,”shesaid.“Havetheymarried?”
ColonelBantryshookhishead.
“We—well,weexpectedsomethingofthekind—butit’seighteenmonthsnow.Idon’tbelievetheyevenseemuchofeachother.”
“Thatisimportant,”saidMissMarple.“Veryimportant.”
“ThenyouthinkthesameasIdo,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Youthink—”
“Now,Dolly,”saidherhusband.“It’sunjustifiable—whatyou’regoingtosay.Youcan’tgoaboutaccusingpeoplewithoutashadowofproof.”
“Don’tbeso—somanly,Arthur.Menarealwaysafraidtosayanything.Anyway,thisisallbetweenourselves.It’sjustawildfantasticideaofminethatpossibly—onlypossibly—JeanInstowdisguisedherselfasafortune-teller.Mindyou,shemayhavedoneitforajoke.Idon’tforaminutethinkthatshemeantanyharm;butifshediddoit,andifMrs.Pritchardwasfoolishenoughtodieoffright—well,that’swhatMissMarplemeant,wasn’tit?”
“No,dear,notquite,”saidMissMarple.“Yousee,ifIweregoingtokillanyone—which,ofcourse,Iwouldn’tdreamofdoingforaminute,becauseitwouldbeverywicked,andbesidesIdon’tlikekilling—notevenwasps,thoughIknowithastobe,andI’msurethegardenerdoesitashumanelyaspossible.Letmesee,whatwasIsaying?”
“Ifyouwishedtokillanyone,”promptedSirHenry.
“Ohyes.Well,ifIdid,Ishouldn’tbeatallsatisfiedtotrusttofright.Iknowonereadsofpeopledyingofit,butitseemsaveryuncertainsortofthing,andthemostnervouspeoplearefarmorebravethanonereallythinkstheyare.Ishouldlikesomethingdefiniteandcertain,andmakeathoroughlygoodplanaboutit.”
“MissMarple,”saidSirHenry,“youfrightenme.Ihopeyouwillneverwishtoremoveme.Yourplanswouldbetoogood.”
MissMarplelookedathimreproachfully
“IthoughtIhadmadeitclearthatIwouldnevercontemplatesuchwickedness,”shesaid.“No,Iwastryingtoputmyselfintheplaceof—er—acertainperson.”
“DoyoumeanGeorgePritchard?”askedColonelBantry.“I’llneverbelieveitofGeorge—though—mindyou,eventhenursebelievesit.Iwentandsawheraboutamonthafterwards,atthetimeoftheexhumation.Shedidn’tknowhowitwasdone—infact,shewouldn’tsayanythingatall—butitwasclearenoughthatshebelievedGeorgetobeinsomewayresponsibleforhiswife’sdeath.Shewasconvincedofit.”
“Well,”saidDr.Lloyd,“perhapsshewasn’tsofarwrong.Andmindyou,anurseoftenknows.Shecan’tsay—she’sgotnoproof—butsheknows.”
SirHenryleantforward.
“Comenow,MissMarple,”hesaidpersuasively.“You’relostinadaydream.Won’tyoutellusallaboutit?”
MissMarplestartedandturnedpink.
“Ibegyourpardon,”shesaid.“IwasjustthinkingaboutourDistrictNurse.Amostdifficultproblem.”
“Moredifficultthantheproblemofthebluegeranium?”
“Itreallydependsontheprimroses,”saidMissMarple.“Imean,Mrs.Bantrysaidtheywereyellowandpink.Ifitwasapinkprimrosethatturnedblue,ofcourse,thatfitsinperfectly.Butifithappenedtobeayellowone—”
“Itwasapinkone,”saidMrs.Bantry
Shestared.TheyallstaredatMissMarple.
“Thenthatseemstosettleit,”saidMissMarple.Sheshookherheadregretfully.“Andthewaspseasonandeverything.Andofcoursethegas.”
“Itremindsyou,Isuppose,ofcountlessvillagetragedies?”saidSirHenry.
“Nottragedies,”saidMissMarple.‘Andcertainlynothingcriminal.ButitdoesremindmealittleofthetroublewearehavingwiththeDistrictNurse.Afterall,nursesarehumanbeings,andwhatwithhavingtobesocorrectintheirbehaviourandwearingthoseuncomfortablecollarsandbeingsothrownwiththefamily—well,canyouwonderthatthingssometimeshappen?”
AglimmeroflightbrokeuponSirHenry
“YoumeanNurseCarstairs?”
“Ohno.NotNurseCarstairs.NurseCopling.Yousee,shehadbeentherebefore,andverymuchthrownwithMr.Pritchard,whoyousayisanattractiveman.Idaresayshethought,poorthing—well,weneedn’tgointothat.Idon’tsupposesheknewaboutMissInstow,andofcourseafterwards,whenshefoundout,itturnedheragainsthimandshetriedtodoalltheharmshecould.Ofcoursetheletterreallygaveheraway,didn’tit?”
“Whatletter?”
“Well,shewrotetothefortune-telleratMrs.Pritchard’srequest,andthefortune-tellercame,apparentlyinanswertotheletter.Butlateritwasdiscoveredthatthereneverhadbeensuchapersonatthataddress.SothatshowsthatNurseCoplingwasinit.Sheonlypretendedtowrite—sowhatcouldbemorelikelythanthatshewasthefortune-tellerherself?”
“Ineversawthepointabouttheletter,”saidSirHenry.“That’samostimportantpoint,ofcourse.”
“Ratheraboldsteptotake,”saidMissMarple,“becauseMrs.Pritchardmighthaverecognizedherinspiteofthedisguise—thoughofcourseifshehad,thenursecouldhavepretendeditwasajoke.”
“Whatdidyoumean,”saidSirHenry,“whenyousaidthatifyouwereacertainpersonyouwouldnothavetrustedtofright?”
“Onecouldn’tbesurethatway,”saidMissMarple.“No,Ithinkthatthewarningsandtheblueflowerswere,ifImayuseamilitaryterm,”shelaughedself-consciously—“justcamouflage.”
“Andtherealthing?”
“Iknow,”saidMissMarpleapologetically,“thatI’vegotwaspsonthebrain.Poorthings,destroyedintheirthousands—andusuallyonsuchabeautifulsummer’sday.ButIrememberthinking,whenIsawthegardenershakingupthecyanideofpotassiuminabottlewithwater,howlikesmellingsaltsitlooked.Andifitwereputinasmellingsaltbottleandsubstitutedfortherealone—well,thepoorladywasinthehabitofusinghersmellingsalts.Indeedyousaidtheywerefoundbyherhand.Then,ofcourse,whileMr.Pritchardwenttotelephonetothedoctor,thenursewouldchangeitfortherealbottle,andshe’djustturnonthegasalittlebittomaskanysmellofalmondsandincaseanyonefeltqueer,andIalwayshaveheardthatcyanideleavesnotraceifyouwaitlongenough.But,ofcourseImaybewrong,anditmayhavebeensomethingentirelydifferentinthebottle;butthatdoesn’treallymatter,doesit?”
MissMarplepaused,alittleoutofbreath.
JaneHelierleantforwardandsaid,“Butthebluegeranium,andtheotherflowers?”
“Nursesalwayshavelitmuspaper,don’tthey?”saidMissMarple,“for—well,fortesting.Notaverypleasantsubject.Wewon’tdwellonit.Ihavedonealittlenursingmyself.”Shegrewdelicatelypink.“Blueturnsredwithacids,andredturnsbluewithalkalis.Soeasytopastesomeredlitmusoveraredflower—nearthebed,ofcourse.Andthen,whenthepoorladyusedhersmellingsalts,thestrongammoniafumeswouldturnitblue.Reallymostingenious.Ofcourse,thegeraniumwasn’tbluewhentheyfirstbrokeintotheroom—nobodynoticedittillafterwards.Whennursechangedthebottles,sheheldtheSalAmmoniacagainstthewallpaperforaminute,Iexpect.”
“Youmighthavebeenthere,MissMarple,”saidSirHenry.
“Whatworriesme,”saidMissMarple,“ispoorMr.Pritchardandthatnicegirl,MissInstow.Probablybothsuspectingeachotherandkeepingapart—andlifesoveryshort.”
Sheshookherhead.
“Youneedn’tworry,”saidSirHenry.“AsamatteroffactIhavesomethingupmysleeve.Anursehasbeenarrestedonachargeofmurderinganelderlypatientwhohadleftheralegacy.Itwasdonewithcyanideofpotassiumsubstitutedforsmellingsalts.NurseCoplingtryingthesametrickagain.MissInstowandMr.Pritchardneedhavenodoubtsastothetruth.”
“Nowisn’tthatnice?”criedMissMarple.“Idon’tmeanaboutthenewmurder,ofcourse.That’sverysad,andshowshowmuchwickednessthereisintheworld,andthatifonceyougiveway—whichremindsmeImustfinishmylittleconversationwithDr.Lloydaboutthevillagenurse.”
Eight
THECOMPANION
“Now,Dr.Lloyd,”saidMissHelier.“Don’tyouknowanycreepystories?”
Shesmiledathim—thesmilethatnightlybewitchedthetheatre-goingpublic.JaneHelierwassometimescalledthemostbeautifulwomaninEngland,andjealousmembersofherownprofessionwereinthehabitofsayingtoeachother:“OfcourseJane’snotanartist.Shecan’tact—ifyouknowwhatImean.It’sthoseeyes!”
Andthose“eyes”wereatthisminutefixedappealinglyonthegrizzledelderlybachelordoctorwho,forthelastfiveyears,hadministeredtotheailmentsofthevillageofSt.MaryMead.
Withanunconsciousgesture,thedoctorpulleddownhiswaistcoat(inclinedoflatetobeuncomfortablytight)andrackedhisbrainshastily,soasnottodisappointthelovelycreaturewhoaddressedhimsoconfidently.
“Ifeel,”saidJanedreamily,“thatIwouldliketowallowincrimethisevening.”
“Splendid,”saidColonelBantry,herhost.“Splendid,splendid.”Andhelaughedaloudheartymilitarylaugh.“Eh,Dolly?”
Hiswife,hastilyrecalledtotheexigenciesofsociallife(shehadbeenplanningherspringborder)agreedenthusiastically.
“Ofcourseit’ssplendid,”shesaidheartilybutvaguely.“Ialwaysthoughtso.”
“Didyou,mydear?”saidoldMissMarple,andhereyestwinkledalittle.
“Wedon’tgetmuchinthecreepyline—andstilllessinthecriminalline—inSt.MaryMead,youknow,MissHelier,”saidDr.Lloyd.
“Yousurpriseme,”saidSirHenryClithering.Theex-CommissionerofScotlandYardturnedtoMissMarple.“IalwaysunderstoodfromourfriendherethatSt.MaryMeadisapositivehotbedofcrimeandvice.”
“Oh,SirHenry!”protestedMissMarple,aspotofcolourcomingintohercheeks.“I’msureIneversaidanythingofthekind.TheonlythingIeversaidwasthathumannatureismuchthesameinavillageasanywhereelse,onlyonehasopportunitiesandleisureforseeingitatcloserquarters.”
“Butyouhaven’talwayslivedhere,”saidJaneHelier,stilladdressingthedoctor.“You’vebeeninallsortsofqueerplacesallovertheworld—placeswherethingshappen!”
“Thatisso,ofcourse,”saidDr.Lloyd,stillthinkingdesperately.“Yes,ofcourse…Yes…Ah!Ihaveit!”
Hesankbackwithasighofrelief.
“Itissomeyearsagonow—Ihadalmostforgotten.Butthefactswerereallyverystrange—verystrangeindeed.Andthefinalcoincidencewhichputtheclueintomyhandwasstrangealso.”
MissHelierdrewherchairalittlenearertohim,appliedsomelipstickandwaitedexpectantly.Theothersalsoturnedinterestedfacestowardshim.
“Idon’tknowwhetheranyofyouknowtheCanaryIslands,”beganthedoctor
“Theymustbewonderful,”saidJaneHelier.“They’reintheSouthSeas,aren’tthey?OrisittheMediterranean?”
“I’vecalledinthereonmywaytoSouthAfrica,”saidtheColonel.“ThePeakofTenerifeisafinesightwiththesettingsunonit.”
“TheincidentIamdescribinghappenedintheislandofGrandCanary,notTenerife.Itisagoodmanyyearsagonow.IhadhadabreakdowninhealthandwasforcedtogiveupmypracticeinEnglandandgoabroad.IpractisedinLasPalmas,whichistheprincipaltownofGrandCanary.InmanywaysIenjoyedthelifeoutthereverymuch.Theclimatewasmildandsunny,therewasexcellentsurfbathing(andIamanenthusiasticbather)andthesealifeoftheportattractedme.ShipsfromallovertheworldputinatLasPalmas.Iusedtowalkalongthemoleeverymorningfarmoreinterestedthananymemberofthefairsexcouldbeinastreetofhatshops.
“AsIsay,shipsfromallovertheworldputinatLasPalmas.Sometimestheystayafewhours,sometimesadayortwo.Intheprincipalhotelthere,theMetropole,youwillseepeopleofallracesandnationalities—birdsofpassage.EventhepeoplegoingtoTenerifeusuallycomehereandstayafewdaysbeforecrossingtotheotherisland.
“Mystorybeginsthere,intheMetropoleHotel,oneThursdayeveninginJanuary.TherewasadancegoingonandIandafriendhadbeensittingatasmalltablewatchingthescene.TherewereafairsprinklingofEnglishandothernationalities,butthemajorityofthedancerswereSpanish;andwhentheorchestrastruckupatango,onlyhalfadozencouplesofthelatternationalitytookthefloor.Theyalldancedwellandwelookedonandadmired.Onewomaninparticularexcitedourlivelyadmiration.Tall,beautifulandsinuous,shemovedwiththegraceofahalf-tamedleopardess.Therewassomethingdangerousabouther.Isaidasmuchtomyfriendandheagreed.
“‘Womenlikethat,’hesaid,‘areboundtohaveahistory.Lifewillnotpassthemby.’
“‘Beautyisperhapsadangerouspossession,’Isaid.
“‘It’snotonlybeauty,’heinsisted.‘Thereissomethingelse.Lookatheragain.Thingsareboundtohappentothatwoman,orbecauseofher.AsIsaid,lifewillnotpassherby.Strangeandexcitingeventswillsurroundher.You’veonlygottolookathertoknowit.’
“Hepausedandthenaddedwithasmile:
“‘Justasyou’veonlygottolookatthosetwowomenoverthere,andknowthatnothingoutofthewaycouldeverhappentoeitherofthem!Theyaremadeforasafeanduneventfulexistence.’
“Ifollowedhiseyes.Thetwowomenhereferredtoweretravellerswhohadjustarrived—aHollandLloydboathadputintoportthatevening,andthepassengerswerejustbeginningtoarrive.
“AsIlookedatthemIsawatoncewhatmyfriendmeant.TheyweretwoEnglishladies—thethoroughlynicetravellingEnglishthatyoudofindabroad.Theirages,Ishouldsay,wereroundaboutforty.Onewasfairandalittle—justalittle—tooplump;theotherwasdarkandalittle—againjustalittle—inclinedtoscragginess.Theywerewhatiscalledwell-preserved,quietlyandinconspicuouslydressedinwell-cuttweeds,andinnocentofanykindofmakeup.Theyhadthatairofquietassurancewhichisthebirthrightofwell-bredEnglishwomen.Therewasnothingremarkableabouteitherofthem.Theywerelikethousandsoftheirsisters.Theywoulddoubtlessseewhattheywishedtosee,assistedbyBaedeker,andbeblindtoeverythingelse.TheywouldusetheEnglishlibraryandattendtheEnglishChurchinanyplacetheyhappenedtobe,anditwasquitelikelythatoneorbothofthemsketchedalittle.Andasmyfriendsaid,nothingexcitingorremarkablewouldeverhappentoeitherofthem,thoughtheymightquitelikelytravelhalfovertheworld.IlookedfromthembacktooursinuousSpanishwomanwithherhalf-closedsmoulderingeyesandIsmiled.”
“Poorthings,”saidJaneHelierwithasigh.“ButIdothinkit’ssosillyofpeoplenottomakethemostofthemselves.ThatwomaninBondStreet—Valentine—isreallywonderful.AudreyDenmangoestoher;andhaveyouseenherin‘TheDownwardStep’?Astheschoolgirlinthefirstactshe’sreallymarvellous.AndyetAudreyisfiftyifshe’saday.AsamatteroffactIhappentoknowshe’sreallynearersixty.”
“Goon,”saidMrs.BantrytoDr.Lloyd.“IlovestoriesaboutsinuousSpanishdancers.ItmakesmeforgethowoldandfatIam.”
“I’msorry,”saidDr.Lloydapologetically.“Butyousee,asamatteroffact,thisstoryisn’tabouttheSpanishwoman.”
“Itisn’t?”
“No.AsithappensmyfriendandIwerewrong.NothingintheleastexcitinghappenedtotheSpanishbeauty.Shemarriedaclerkinashippingoffice,andbythetimeIlefttheislandshehadhadfivechildrenandwasgettingveryfat.”
“JustlikethatgirlofIsraelPeters,”commentedMissMarple.“Theonewhowentonthestageandhadsuchgoodlegsthattheymadeherprincipalboyinthepantomime.Everyonesaidshe’dcometonogood,butshemarriedacommercialtravellerandsettleddownsplendidly.”
“Thevillageparallel,”murmuredSirHenrysoftly.
“No,”wentonthedoctor.“MystoryisaboutthetwoEnglishladies.”
“Somethinghappenedtothem?”breathedMissHelier.
“Somethinghappenedtothem—andtheverynextday,too.”
“Yes?”saidMrs.Bantryencouragingly
“Justforcuriosity,asIwentoutthateveningIglancedatthehotelregister.Ifoundthenameseasilyenough.MissMaryBartonandMissAmyDurrantofLittlePaddocks,CaughtonWeir,Bucks.IlittlethoughtthenhowsoonIwastoencountertheownersofthosenamesagain—andunderwhattragiccircumstances.
“ThefollowingdayIhadarrangedtogoforapicnicwithsomefriends.Weweretomotoracrosstheisland,takingourlunch,toaplacecalled(asfarasIremember—itissolongago)LasNieves,awell-shelteredbaywherewecouldbatheifwefeltinclined.Thisprogrammewedulycarriedout,exceptthatweweresomewhatlateinstarting,sothatwestoppedonthewayandpicnicked,goingontoLasNievesafterwardsforabathebeforetea.
“Asweapproachedthebeach,wewereatonceawareofatremendouscommotion.Thewholepopulationofthesmallvillageseemedtobegatheredontheshore.Assoonastheysawustheyrushedtowardsthecarandbeganexplainingexcitedly.OurSpanishnotbeingverygood,ittookmeafewminutestounderstand,butatlastIgotit.
“TwoofthemadEnglishladieshadgoneintobathe,andonehadswumouttoofarandgotintodifficulties.Theotherhadgoneafterherandhadtriedtobringherin,butherstrengthinturnhadfailedandshetoowouldhavedrownedhadnotamanrowedoutinaboatandbroughtinrescuerandrescued—thelatterbeyondhelp.
“AssoonasIgotthehangofthingsIpushedthecrowdasideandhurrieddownthebeach.Ididnotatfirstrecognizethetwowomen.Theplumpfigureintheblackstockinetcostumeandthetightgreenrubberbathingcapawokenochordofrecognitionasshelookedupanxiously.Shewaskneelingbesidethebodyofherfriend,makingsomewhatamateurishattemptsatartificialrespiration.WhenItoldherthatIwasadoctorshegaveasighofrelief,andIorderedheroffatoncetooneofthecottagesforarubdownanddryclothing.Oneoftheladiesinmypartywentwithher.Imyselfworkedunavailinglyonthebodyofthedrownedwomaninvain.Lifewasonlytooclearlyextinct,andintheendIhadreluctantlytogivein.
“Irejoinedtheothersinthesmallfisherman’scottageandthereIhadtobreakthesadnews.Thesurvivorwasattirednowinherownclothes,andIimmediatelyrecognizedherasoneofthetwoarrivalsofthenightbefore.Shereceivedthesadnewsfairlycalmly,anditwasevidentlythehorrorofthewholethingthatstruckhermorethananygreatpersonalfeeling.
“‘PoorAmy,’shesaid.‘Poor,poorAmy.Shehadbeenlookingforwardtothebathingheresomuch.Andshewasagoodswimmertoo.Ican’tunderstandit.Whatdoyouthinkitcanhavebeen,doctor?’
“‘Possiblycramp.Willyoutellmeexactlywhathappened?’
“‘Wehadbothbeenswimmingaboutforsometime—twentyminutes,Ishouldsay.ThenIthoughtIwouldgoin,butAmysaidshewasgoingtoswimoutoncemore.Shedidso,andsuddenlyIheardhercallandrealizedshewascryingforhelp.IswamoutasfastasIcould.ShewasstillafloatwhenIgottoher,butsheclutchedatmewildlyandwebothwentunder.Ifithadn’tbeenforthatmancomingoutwithhisboatIshouldhavebeendrownedtoo.’
“‘Thathashappenedfairlyoften,’Isaid.‘Tosaveanyonefromdrowningisnotaneasyaffair.’
“‘Itseemssoawful,’continuedMissBarton.‘Weonlyarrivedyesterday,andweresodelightinginthesunshineandourlittleholiday.Andnowthis—thisterribletragedyoccurs.’
“Iaskedherthenforparticularsaboutthedeadwoman,explainingthatIwoulddoeverythingIcouldforher,butthattheSpanishauthoritieswouldrequirefullinformation.Thisshegavemereadilyenough.
“Thedeadwoman,MissAmyDurrant,washercompanionandhadcometoheraboutfivemonthspreviously.Theyhadgotonverywelltogether,butMissDurranthadspokenverylittleaboutherpeople.Shehadbeenleftanorphanatanearlyageandhadbeenbroughtupbyanuncleandhadearnedherownlivingsinceshewastwenty-one.
“Andsothatwasthat,”wentonthedoctor.Hepausedandsaidagain,butthistimewithacertainfinalityinhisvoice,“Andsothatwasthat.”
“Idon’tunderstand,”saidJaneHelier.“Isthatall?Imean,it’sverytragic,Isuppose,butitisn’t—well,itisn’twhatIcallcreepy.”
“Ithinkthere’smoretofollow,”saidSirHenry.
“Yes,”saidDr.Lloyd,“there’smoretofollow.Yousee,rightatthetimetherewasonequeerthing.OfcourseIaskedquestionsofthefishermen,etc.,astowhatthey’dseen.Theywereeyewitnesses.Andonewomanhadratherafunnystory.Ididn’tpayanyattentiontoitatthetime,butitcamebacktomeafterwards.Sheinsisted,yousee,thatMissDurrantwasn’tindifficultieswhenshecalledout.Theotherswamouttoherand,accordingtothiswoman,deliberatelyheldMissDurrant’sheadunderwater.Ididn’t,asIsay,paymuchattention.Itwassuchafantasticstory,andthesethingslooksodifferentlyfromtheshore.MissBartonmighthavetriedtomakeherfriendloseconsciousness,realizingthatthelatter’spanic-strickenclutchingwoulddrownthemboth.Yousee,accordingtotheSpanishwoman’sstory,itlookedasthough—well,asthoughMissBartonwasdeliberatelytryingtodrownhercompanion.
“AsIsay,Ipaidverylittleattentiontothisstoryatthetime.Itcamebacktomelater.Ourgreatdifficultywastofindoutanythingaboutthiswoman,AmyDurrant.Shedidn’tseemtohaveanyrelations.MissBartonandIwentthroughherthingstogether.Wefoundoneaddressandwrotethere,butitprovedtobesimplyaroomshehadtakenin
“Itwasn’texactlymysterious,itwasjustunsatisfactory.Theremustbemanylonelywomen,proudandreticent,injustthatposition.TherewereacoupleofphotographsamongstherbelongingsinLasPalmas—ratheroldandfadedandtheyhadbeencuttofittheframestheywerein,sothattherewasnophotographer’snameuponthem,andtherewasanolddaguerreotypewhichmighthavebeenhermotherormoreprobablyhergrandmother.
“MissBartonhadhadtworeferenceswithher.Oneshehadforgotten,theothernamesherecollectedafteraneffort.Itprovedtobethatofaladywhowasnowabroad,havinggonetoAustralia.Shewaswrittento.Heranswer,ofcourse,wasalongtimeincoming,andImaysaythatwhenitdidarrivetherewasnoparticularhelptobegainedfromit.ShesaidMissDurranthadbeenwithherascompanionandhadbeenmostefficientandthatshewasaverycharmingwoman,butthatsheknewnothingofherprivateaffairsorrelations.
“Sothereitwas—asIsay,nothingunusual,really.Itwasjustthetwothingstogetherthatarousedmyuneasiness.ThisAmyDurrantofwhomnooneknewanything,andtheSpanishwoman’squeerstory.Yes,andI’lladdathirdthing:WhenIwasfirstbendingoverthebodyandMissBartonwaswalkingawaytowardsthehuts,shelookedback.LookedbackwithanexpressiononherfacethatIcanonlydescribeasoneofpoignantanxiety—akindofanguisheduncertaintythatimprinteditselfonmybrain.
“Itdidn’tstrikemeasanythingunusualatthetime.Iputitdowntoherterribledistressoverherfriend.But,yousee,laterIrealizedthattheyweren’tonthoseterms.Therewasnodevotedattachmentbetweenthem,noterriblegrief.MissBartonwasfondofAmyDurrantandshockedbyherdeath—thatwasall.
“But,then,whythatterriblepoignantanxiety?Thatwasthequestionthatkeptcomingbacktome.Ihadnotbeenmistakeninthatlook.Andalmostagainstmywill,ananswerbegantoshapeitselfinmymind.SupposingtheSpanishwoman’sstoryweretrue;supposingthatMaryBartonwilfullyandincoldbloodtriedtodrownAmyDurrant.Shesucceedsandtellwhatsheknows?”
“Oh!”saidJaneHelier.“I’mthrillednow.”
“Viewedinthataspectthewholebusinessseemedmoresinister,andthepersonalityofAmyDurrantbecamemoremysterious.WhowasAmyDurrant?Whyshouldshe,aninsignificantpaidcompanion,bemurderedbyheremployer?Whatstorylaybehindthatfatalbathingexpedition?ShehadenteredMaryBarton’semploymentonlyafewmonthsbefore.MaryBartonhadbroughtherabroad,andtheverydayaftertheylandedthetragedyhadoccurred.Andtheywerebothnice,commonplace,refinedEnglishwomen!Thewholethingwasfantastic,andItoldmyselfso.Ihadbeenlettingmyimaginationrunawaywithme.”
“Youdidn’tdoanything,then?”askedMissHelier.
“Mydearyounglady,whatcouldIdo?Therewasnoevidence.ThemajorityoftheeyewitnessestoldthesamestoryasMissBarton.IhadbuiltupmyownsuspicionsoutofafleetingexpressionwhichImightpossiblyhaveimagined.TheonlythingIcouldanddiddowastoseethatthewidestinquiriesweremadefortherelationsofAmyDurrant.ThenexttimeIwasinEnglandIevenwentandsawthelandladyofherroom,withtheresultsIhavetoldyou.”
“Butyoufelttherewassomethingwrong,”saidMissMarple.
Dr.Lloydnodded.
“HalfthetimeIwasashamedofmyselfforthinkingso.WhowasItogosuspectingthisnice,pleasant-manneredEnglishladyofafoulandcold-bloodedcrime?Ididmybesttobeascordialaspossibletoherduringtheshorttimeshestayedontheisland.IhelpedherwiththeSpanishauthorities.IdideverythingIcoulddoasanEnglishmantohelpacompatriotinaforeigncountry;andyetIamconvincedthatsheknewIsuspectedanddislikedher.”
“Howlongdidshestayoutthere?”askedMissMarple.
“Ithinkitwasaboutafortnight.MissDurrantwasburiedthere,anditmusthavebeenabouttendayslaterwhenshetookaboatbacktoEngland.Theshockhadupsethersomuchthatshefeltshecouldn’tspendthewinterthereasshehadplanned.That’swhatshesaid.”
“Diditseemtohaveupsether?”askedMissMarple.
Thedoctorhesitated.
“Well,Idon’tknowthatitaffectedherappearanceatall,”hesaidcautiously.
“Shedidn’t,forinstance,growfatter?”askedMissMarple.
“Doyouknow—it’sacuriousthingyoursayingthat.NowIcometothinkback,Ibelieveyou’reright.She—yes,shedidseem,ifanything,tobeputtingonweight.”
“Howhorrible,”saidJaneHelierwithashudder.“It’slike—it’slikefatteningonyourvictim’sblood.”
“Andyet,inanotherway,Imaybedoingheraninjustice,”wentonDr.Lloyd.“Shecertainlysaidsomethingbeforesheleft,whichpointedinanentirelydifferentdirection.Theremaybe,Ithinkthereare,conscienceswhichworkveryslowly—whichtakesometimetoawakentotheenormityofthedeedcommitted.
“ItwastheeveningbeforeherdeparturefromtheCanaries.Shehadaskedmetogoandseeher,andhadthankedmeverywarmlyforallIhaddonetohelpher.I,ofcourse,madelightofthematter,saidIhadonlydonewhatwasnaturalunderthecircumstances,andsoon.Therewasapauseafterthat,andthenshesuddenlyaskedmeaquestion.
“‘Doyouthink,’sheasked,‘thatoneiseverjustifiedintakingthelawintoone’sownhands?’
“Irepliedthatthatwasratheradifficultquestion,butthatonthewhole,Ithoughtnot.Thelawwasthelaw,andwehadtoabidebyit.
“‘Evenwhenitispowerless?’
“‘Idon’tquiteunderstand.’
“‘It’sdifficulttoexplain;butonemightdosomethingthatisconsidereddefinitelywrong—thatisconsideredacrime,even,foragoodandsufficientreason.’
“Ireplieddrilythatpossiblyseveralcriminalshadthoughtthatintheirtime,andsheshrankback.
“‘Butthat’shorrible,’shemurmured.‘Horrible.’
“Andthenwithachangeoftonesheaskedmetogivehersomethingtomakehersleep.Shehadnotbeenabletosleepproperlysince—shehesitated—sincethatterribleshock.
“‘You’resureitisthat?Thereisnothingworryingyou?Nothingonyourmind?’
“‘Onmymind?Whatshouldbeonmymind?’
“Shespokefiercelyandsuspiciously.
“‘Worryisacauseofsleeplessnesssometimes,’Isaidlightly.
“Sheseemedtobroodforamoment.
“‘Doyoumeanworryingoverthefuture,orworryingoverthepast,whichcan’tbealtered?’
“‘Either.’
“‘Onlyitwouldn’tbeanygoodworryingoverthepast.Youcouldn’tbringback—Oh!what’stheuse!Onemustn’tthink.Onemustnotthink.’
“Iprescribedheramildsleepingdraughtandmademyadieu.AsIwentawayIwonderednotalittleoverthewordsshehadspoken.‘Youcouldn’tbringback—’What?Orwho?
“Ithinkthatlastinterviewpreparedmeinawayforwhatwastocome.Ididn’texpectit,ofcourse,butwhenithappened,Iwasn’tsurprised.Because,yousee,MaryBartonstruckmeallalongasaconscientiouswoman—notaweaksinner,butawomanwithconvictions,whowouldactuptothem,andwhowouldnotrelentaslongasshestillbelievedinthem.Ifanciedthatinthelastconversationwehadshewasbeginningtodoubtherownconvictions.Iknowherwordssuggestedtomethatshewasfeelingthefirstfaintbeginningsofthatterriblesoul-searcher—remorse.
“ThethinghappenedinCornwall,inasmallwatering-place,ratherdesertedatthatseasonoftheyear.Itmusthavebeen—letmesee—lateMarch.Ireadaboutitinthepapers.Aladyhadbeenstayingatasmallhotelthere—aMissBarton.Shehadbeenveryoddandpeculiarinhermanner.Thathadbeennoticedbyall.Atnightshewouldwalkupanddownherroom,mutteringtoherself,andnotallowingthepeopleoneithersideofhertosleep.Shehadcalledonthevicaronedayandhadtoldhimthatshehadacommunicationofthegravestimportancetomaketohim.Shehad,shesaid,committedacrime.Then,insteadofproceeding,shehadstoodupabruptlyandsaidshewouldcallanotherday
“Theverynextmorningshewasfoundtobemissingfromherroom.Anotewasleftaddressedtothecoroner.Itranasfollows:
“Itriedtospeaktothevicaryesterday,toconfessall,butwasnotallowed.Shewouldnotletme.Icanmakeamendsonlyoneway—alifeforalife;andmylifemustgothesamewayashersdid.I,too,mustdrowninthedeepsea.IbelievedIwasjustified.Iseenowthatthatwasnotso.IfIdesireAmy’sforgivenessImustgotoher.Letnoonebeblamedformydeath—MaryBarton.
“Herclotheswerefoundlyingonthebeachinasecludedcovenearby,anditseemedclearthatshehadundressedthereandswumresolutelyouttoseawherethecurrentwasknowntobedangerous,sweepingonedownthecoast.
“Thebodywasnotrecovered,butafteratimeleavewasgiventopresumedeath.Shewasarichwoman,herestatebeingprovedatahundredthousandpounds.Sinceshediedintestateitallwenttohernextofkin—afamilyofcousinsinAustralia.ThepapersmadediscreetreferencestothetragedyintheCanaryIslands,puttingforwardthetheorythatthedeathofMissDurranthadunhingedherfriend’sbrain.AttheinquesttheusualverdictofSuicidewhilsttemporarilyinsanewasreturned.
“AndsothecurtainfallsonthetragedyofAmyDurrantandMaryBarton.”
TherewasalongpauseandthenJaneHeliergaveagreatgasp.
“Oh,butyoumustn’tstopthere—justatthemostinterestingpart.Goon.”
“Butyousee,MissHelier,thisisn’taserialstory.Thisisreallife;andreallifestopsjustwhereitchooses.”
“ButIdon’twantitto,”saidJane.“Iwanttoknow.”
“Thisiswhereweuseourbrains,MissHelier,”explainedSirHenry.“WhydidMaryBartonkillhercompanion?That’stheproblemDr.Lloydhassetus.”
“Oh,well,”saidMissHelier,“shemighthavekilledherforlotsofreasons.Imean—oh,Idon’tknow.Shemighthavegotonhernerves,orelseshegotjealous,althoughDr.Lloyddoesn’tmentionanymen,butstillontheboatout—well,youknowwhateveryonesaysaboutboatsandseavoyages.”
MissHelierpaused,slightlyoutofbreath,anditwasborneinuponheraudiencethattheoutsideofJane’scharmingheadwasdistinctlysuperiortotheinside.
“Iwouldliketohavealotofguesses,”saidMrs.Bantry.“ButIsupposeImustconfinemyselftoone.Well,IthinkthatMissBarton’sfathermadeallhismoneyoutofruiningAmyDurrant’sfather,soAmydeterminedtohaveherrevenge.Oh,no,that’sthewrongwayround.Howtiresome!Whydoestherichemployerkillthehumblecompanion?I’vegotit.MissBartonhadayoungbrotherwhoshothimselfforloveofAmyDurrant.MissBartonwaitshertime.Amycomesdownintheworld.MissB.engagesherascompanionandtakeshertotheCanariesandaccomplishesherrevenge.How’sthat?”
“Excellent,”saidSirHenry.“Onlywedon’tknowthatMissBartoneverhadayoungbrother.”
“Wededucethat,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Unlessshehadayoungbrotherthere’snomotive.Soshemusthavehadayoungbrother.Doyousee,Watson?”
“That’sallveryfine,Dolly,”saidherhusband.“Butit’sonlyaguess.”
“Ofcourseitis,”saidMrs.Bantry.“That’sallwecando—guess.Wehaven’tgotanyclues.Goon,dear,haveaguessyourself.”
“Uponmyword,Idon’tknowwhattosay.ButIthinkthere’ssomethinginMissHelier’ssuggestionthattheyfelloutaboutaman.Lookhere,Dolly,itwasprobablysomehighchurchparson.Theybothembroideredhimacopeorsomething,andheworetheDurrantwoman’sfirst.Dependuponit,itwassomethinglikethat.Lookhowshewentofftoaparsonattheend.Thesewomenalllosetheirheadsoveragood-lookingclergyman.Youhearofitoverandoveragain.”
“IthinkImusttrytomakemyexplanationalittlemoresubtle,”saidSirHenry,“thoughIadmitit’sonlyaguess.IsuggestthatMissBartonwasalwaysmentallyunhinged.Therearemorecaseslikethatthanyouwouldimagine.Hermaniagrewstrongerandshebegantobelieveitherdutytoridtheworldofcertainpersons—possiblywhatistermedunfortunatefemales.NothingmuchisknownaboutMissDurrant’spast.Soverypossiblyshehadapast—an‘unfortunate’one.MissBartonlearnsofthisanddecidesonextermination.Later,therighteousnessofheractbeginstotroubleherandsheisovercomebyremorse.Herendshowshertobecompletelyunhinged.Now,dosayyouagreewithme,MissMarple.”
“I’mafraidIdon’t,SirHenry,”saidMissMarple,smilingapologetically.“Ithinkherendshowshertohavebeenaverycleverandresourcefulwoman.”
JaneHelierinterruptedwithalittlescream.
“Oh!I’vebeensostupid.MayIguessagain?Ofcourseitmusthavebeenthat.Blackmail!Thecompanionwomanwasblackmailingher.OnlyIdon’tseewhyMissMarplesaysitwascleverofhertokillherself.Ican’tseethatatall.”
“Ah!”saidSirHenry.“Yousee,MissMarpleknewacasejustlikeitinSt.MaryMead.”
“Youalwayslaughatme,SirHenry,”saidMissMarplereproachfully.“Imustconfessitdoesremindme,justalittle,ofoldMrs.Trout.Shedrewtheoldagepension,youknow,forthreeoldwomenwhoweredead,indifferentparishes.”
“Itsoundsamostcomplicatedandresourcefulcrime,”saidSirHenry.“Butitdoesn’tseemtometothrowanylightuponourpresentproblem.”
“Ofcoursenot,”saidMissMarple.“Itwouldn’t—toyou.Butsomeofthefamilieswereverypoor,andtheoldagepensionwasagreatboontothechildren.Iknowit’sdifficultforanyoneoutsidetounderstand.ButwhatIreallymeantwasthatthewholethinghingedupononeoldwomanbeingsolikeanyotheroldwoman.”
“Eh?”saidSirHenry,mystified.
“Ialwaysexplainthingssobadly.WhatImeanisthatwhenDr.Lloyddescribedthetwoladiesfirst,hedidn’tknowwhichwaswhich,andIdon’tsupposeanyoneelseinthehoteldid.Theywouldhave,ofcourse,afteradayorso,buttheverynextdayoneofthetwowasdrowned,andiftheonewhowasleftsaidshewasMissBarton,Idon’tsupposeitwouldeveroccurtoanyonethatshemightn’tbe.”
“Youthink—Oh!Isee,”saidSirHenryslowly.
“It’stheonlynaturalwayofthinkingofit.DearMrs.Bantrybeganthatwayjustnow.Whyshouldtherichemployerkillthehumblecompanion?It’ssomuchmorelikelytobetheotherwayabout.Imean—that’sthewaythingshappen.”
“Isit?”saidSirHenry.“Youshockme.”
“Butofcourse,”wentonMissMarple,“shewouldhavetowearMissBarton’sclothes,andtheywouldprobablybealittletightonher,sothathergeneralappearancewouldlookasthoughshehadgotalittlefatter.That’swhyIaskedthatquestion.Agentlemanwouldbesuretothinkitwastheladywhohadgotfatter,andnottheclothesthathadgotsmaller—thoughthatisn’tquitetherightwayofputtingit.”
“ButifAmyDurrantkilledMissBarton,whatdidshegainbyit?”askedMrs.Bantry.“Shecouldn’tkeepupthedeceptionforever.”
“Sheonlykeptitupforanothermonthorso,”pointedoutMissMarple.“AndduringthattimeIexpectshetravelled,keepingawayfromanyonewhomightknowher.That’swhatImeantbysayingthatoneladyofacertainagelookssolikeanother.Idon’tsupposethedifferentphotographonherpassportwasevernoticed—youknowwhatpassportsare.AndtheninMarch,shewentdowntothisCornishplaceandbegantoactqueerlyanddrawattentiontoherselfsothatwhenpeoplefoundherclothesonthebeachandreadherlastlettertheyshouldn’tthinkofthecommonsenseconclusion.”
“Whichwas?”askedSirHenry.
“Nobody,”saidMissMarplefirmly.“That’sthethingthatwouldstareyouintheface,ifthereweren’tsuchalotofredherringstodrawyouoffthetrail—includingthesuggestionoffoulplayandremorse.Nobody.Thatwastherealsignificantfact.”
“Doyoumean—”saidMrs.Bantry—“doyoumeanthattherewasn’tanyremorse?Thattherewasn’t—thatshedidn’tdrownherself?”
“Notshe!”saidMissMarple.“It’sjustMrs.Troutoveragain.Mrs.Troutwasverygoodatredherrings,butshemethermatchinme.AndIcanseethroughyourremorse-drivenMissBarton.Drownherself?WentofftoAustralia,ifI’manygoodatguessing.”
“Youare,MissMarple,”saidDr.Lloyd.“Undoubtedlyyouare.Nowitagaintookmequitebysurprise.Why,youcouldhaveknockedmedownwithafeatherthatdayinMelbourne.”
“Wasthatwhatyouspokeofasafinalcoincidence?”
Dr.Lloydnodded.
“Yes,itwasratherroughluckonMissBarton—orMissAmyDurrant—whateveryouliketocallher.Ibecameaship’sdoctorforawhile,andlandinginMelbourne,thefirstpersonIsawasIwalkeddownthestreetwastheladyIthoughthadbeendrownedinCornwall.ShesawthegamewasupasfarasIwasconcerned,andshedidtheboldthing—tookmeintoherconfidence.Acuriouswoman,completelylacking,Isuppose,insomemoralsense.Shewastheeldestofafamilyofnine,allwretchedlypoor.TheyhadappliedonceforhelptotheirrichcousininEnglandandbeenrepulsed,MissBartonhavingquarrelledwiththeirfather.Moneywaswanteddesperately,forthethreeyoungestchildrenweredelicateandwantedexpensivemedicaltreatment.AmyBartonthenandthereseemstohavedecidedonherplanofcold-bloodedmurder.ShesetoutforEngland,workingherpassageoverasachildren’snurse.SheobtainedthesituationofcompaniontoMissBarton,callingherselfAmyDurrant.Sheengagedaroomandputsomefurnitureintoitsoastocreatemoreofapersonalityforherself.Thedrowningplanwasasuddeninspiration.Shehadbeenwaitingforsomeopportunitytopresentitself.ThenshestagedthefinalsceneofthedramaandreturnedtoAustralia,andinduetimesheandherbrothersandsistersinheritedMissBarton’smoneyasnextofkin.”
“Averyboldandperfectcrime,”saidSirHenry.“Almosttheperfectcrime.IfithadbeenMissBartonwhohaddiedintheCanaries,suspicionmightattachtoAmyDurrantandherconnectionwiththeBartonfamilymighthavebeendiscovered;butthechangeofidentityandthedoublecrime,asyoumaycallit,effectuallydidawaywiththat.Yes,almosttheperfectcrime.”
“Whathappenedtoher?”askedMrs.Bantry.“Whatdidyoudointhematter,Dr.Lloyd?”
“Iwasinaverycuriousposition,Mrs.Bantry.Ofevidenceasthelawunderstandsit,Istillhaveverylittle.Also,therewerecertainsigns,plaintomeasamedicalman,thatthoughstrongandvigorousinappearance,theladywasnotlongforthisworld.Iwenthomewithherandsawtherestofthefamily—acharmingfamily,devotedtotheireldestsisterandwithoutanideaintheirheadsthatshemightprovetohavecommittedacrime.WhybringsorrowonthemwhenIcouldprovenothing?Thelady’sadmissiontomewasunheardbyanyoneelse.IletNaturetakeitscourse.MissAmyBartondiedsixmonthsaftermymeetingwithher.Ihaveoftenwonderedifshewascheerfulandunrepentant
“Surelynot,”saidMrs.Bantry.
“Iexpectso,”saidMissMarple.“Mrs.Troutwas.”
JaneHeliergaveherselfalittleshake
“Well,”shesaid.“It’svery,verythrilling.Idon’tquiteunderstandnowwhodrownedwhich.AndhowdoesthisMrs.Troutcomeintoit?”
“Shedoesn’t,mydear,”saidMissMarple.“Shewasonlyaperson—notaveryniceperson—inthevillage.”
“Oh!”saidJane.“Inthevillage.Butnothingeverhappensinavillage,doesit?”Shesighed.“I’msureIshouldn’thaveanybrainsatallifIlivedinavillage.”
Nine
THEFOURSUSPECTS
Theconversationhoveredroundundiscoveredandunpunishedcrimes.Everyoneinturnvouchsafedtheiropinion:ColonelBantry,hisplumpamiablewife,JaneHelier,Dr.Lloyd,andevenoldMissMarple.Theonepersonwhodidnotspeakwastheonebestfittedinmostpeople’sopiniontodoso.SirHenryClithering,ex-CommissionerofScotlandYard,satsilent,twistinghismoustache—orratherstrokingit—andhalfsmiling,asthoughatsomeinwardthoughtthatamusedhim.
“SirHenry,”saidMrs.Bantryatlast.“Ifyoudon’tsaysomethingIshallscream.Aretherealotofcrimesthatgounpunished,oraretherenot?”
“You’rethinkingofnewspaperheadlines,Mrs.Bantry.SCOTLANDYARDATFAULTAGAIN.Andalistofunsolvedmysteriestofollow.”
“Whichreally,Isuppose,formaverysmallpercentageofthewhole?”saidDr.Lloyd.
“Yes;thatisso.Thehundredsofcrimesthataresolvedandtheperpetratorspunishedareseldomheraldedandsung.Butthatisn’tquitethepointatissue,isit?Whenyoutalkofundiscoveredcrimesandunsolvedcrimes,youaretalkingoftwodifferentthings.InthefirstcategorycomeallthecrimesthatScotlandYardneverhearsabout,thecrimesthatnooneevenknowshavebeencommitted.”
“ButIsupposetherearen’tverymanyofthose?”saidMrs.Bantry.
“Aren’tthere?”
“SirHenry!Youdon’tmeanthereare?”
“Ishouldthink,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully,“thattheremustbeaverylargenumber.”
Thecharmingoldlady,withherold-worldunruffledair,madeherstatementinatoneoftheutmostplacidity.
“MydearMissMarple,”saidColonelBantry.
“Ofcourse,”saidMissMarple,“alotofpeoplearestupid.Andstupidpeoplegetfoundout,whatevertheydo.Buttherearequiteanumberofpeoplewhoaren’tstupid,andoneshudderstothinkofwhattheymightaccomplishunlesstheyhadverystronglyrootedprinciples.”
“Yes,”saidSirHenry,“therearealotofpeoplewhoaren’tstupid.Howoftendoessomecrimecometolightsimplybyreasonofabitofunmitigatedbungling,andeachtimeoneasksoneselfthequestion:Ifthishadn’tbeenbungled,wouldanyoneeverhaveknown?”
“Butthat’sveryserious,Clithering,”saidColonelBantry.“Veryserious,indeed.”
“Isit?”
“Whatdoyoumean!Itis!Ofcourseit’sserious.”
“Yousaycrimegoesunpunished;butdoesit?Unpunishedbythelawperhaps;butcauseandeffectworksoutsidethelaw.Tosaythateverycrimebringsitsownpunishmentisbywayofbeingaplatitude,andyetinmyopinionnothingcanbetruer.”
“Perhaps,perhaps,”saidColonelBantry.“Butthatdoesn’taltertheseriousness—the—er—seriousness—”Hepaused,ratherataloss.
SirHenryClitheringsmiled.
“Ninety-ninepeopleoutofahundredaredoubtlessofyourwayofthinking,”hesaid.“Butyouknow,itisn’treallyguiltthatisimportant—it’sinnocence.That’sthethingthatnobodywillrealize.”
“Idon’tunderstand,”saidJaneHelier.
“Ido,”saidMissMarple.“WhenMrs.Trentfoundhalfacrownmissingfromherbag,thepersonitaffectedmostwasthedailywoman,Mrs.Arthur.OfcoursetheTrentsthoughtitwasher,butbeingkindlypeopleandknowingshehadalargefamilyandahusbandwhodrinks,well—theynaturallydidn’twanttogotoextremes.Buttheyfeltdifferentlytowardsher,andtheydidn’tleaveherinchargeofthehousewhentheywentaway,whichmadeagreatdifferencetoher;andotherpeoplebegantogetafeelingabouthertoo.Andthenitsuddenlycameoutthatitwasthegoverness.Mrs.Trentsawherthroughadoorreflectedinamirror.Thepurestchance—thoughIprefertocallitProvidence.Andthat,Ithink,iswhatSirHenrymeans.Mostpeoplewouldbeonlyinterestedinwhotookthemoney,anditturnedouttobethemostunlikelyperson—justlikeindetectivestories!ButtherealpersonitwaslifeanddeathtowaspoorMrs.Arthur,whohaddonenothing.That’swhatyoumean,isn’tit,SirHenry?”
“Yes,MissMarple,you’vehitoffmymeaningexactly.Yourcharwomanpersonwasluckyintheinstanceyourelate.Herinnocencewasshown.Butsomepeoplemaygothroughalifetimecrushedbytheweightofasuspicionthatisreallyunjustified.”
“Areyouthinkingofsomeparticularinstance,SirHenry?”askedMrs.Bantryshrewdly.
“Asamatteroffact,Mrs.Bantry,Iam.Averycuriouscase.Acasewherewebelievemurdertohavebeencommitted,butwithnopossiblechanceofeverprovingit.”
“Poison,Isuppose,”breathedJane.“Somethinguntraceable.”
Dr.LloydmovedrestlesslyandSirHenryshookhishead.
“No,dearlady.NotthesecretarrowpoisonoftheSouthAmericanIndians!Iwishitweresomethingofthatkind.Wehavetodealwithsomethingmuchmoreprosaic—soprosaic,infact,thatthereisnohopeofbringingthedeedhometoitsperpetrator.Anoldgentlemanwhofelldownstairsandbrokehisneck;oneofthoseregrettableaccidentswhichhappeneveryday.”
“Butwhathappenedreally?”
“Whocansay?”SirHenryshruggedhisshoulders.“Apushfrombehind?Apieceofcottonorstringtiedacrossthetopofthestairsandcarefullyremovedafterwards?Thatweshallneverknow.”
“Butyoudothinkthatit—well,wasn’tanaccident?Nowwhy?”askedthedoctor.
“That’sratheralongstory,but—well,yes,we’reprettysure.AsIsaidthere’snochanceofbeingabletobringthedeedhometoanyone—theevidencewouldbetooflimsy.Butthere’stheotheraspectofthecase—theoneIwasspeakingabout.Yousee,therewerefourpeoplewhomighthavedonethetrick.One’sguilty;buttheotherthreeareinnocent.Andunlessthetruthisfoundout,thosethreearegoingtoremainundertheterribleshadowofdoubt.”
“Ithink,”saidMrs.Bantry,“thatyou’dbettertellusyourlongstory.”
“Ineedn’tmakeitsoverylongafterall,”saidSirHenry.“Icanatanyratecondensethebeginning.ThatdealswithaGermansecretsociety—theSchwartzeHand—somethingafterthelinesoftheCamorraorwhatismostpeople’sideaoftheCamorra.Aschemeofblackmailandterrorization.ThethingstartedquitesuddenlyaftertheWar,andspreadtoanamazingextent.Numberlesspeoplewerevictimizedbyit.Theauthoritieswerenotsuccessfulincopingwithit,foritssecretswerejealouslyguarded,anditwasalmostimpossibletofindanyonewhocouldbeinducedtobetraythem.
“NothingmuchwaseverknownaboutitinEngland,butinGermanyitwashavingamostparalysingeffect.Itwasfinallybrokenupanddispersedthroughtheeffortsofoneman,aDr.Rosen,whohadatonetimebeenveryprominentinSecretServicework.Hebecameamember,penetrateditsinmostcircle,andwas,asIsay,instrumentalinbringingaboutitsdownfall.
“Buthewas,inconsequence,amarkedman,anditwasdeemedwisethatheshouldleaveGermany—atanyrateforatime.HecametoEngland,andwehadlettersabouthimfromthepoliceinBerlin.Hecameandhadapersonalinterviewwithme.Hispointofviewwasbothdispassionateandresigned.Hehadnodoubtsofwhatthefutureheldforhim.
“‘Theywillgetme,SirHenry,’hesaid.‘Notadoubtofit.’Hewasabigmanwithafinehead,andaverydeepvoice,withonlyaslightgutturalintonationtotellofhisnationality.‘Thatisaforegoneconclusion.Itdoesnotmatter,Iamprepared.IfacedtheriskwhenIundertookthisbusiness.IhavedonewhatIsetouttodo.Theorganizationcanneverbegottogetheragain.Buttherearemanymembersofitatliberty,andtheywilltaketheonlyrevengetheycan—mylife.Itissimplyaquestionoftime;butIamanxiousthatthattimeshouldbeaslongaspossible.Yousee,Iamcollectingandeditingsomeveryinterestingmaterial—theresultofmylife’swork.Ishouldlike,ifpossible,tobeabletocompletemytask.’
“Hespokeverysimply,withacertaingrandeurwhichIcouldnotbutadmire.Itoldhimwewouldtakeallprecautions,buthewavedmywordsaside.
“‘Someday,soonerorlater,theywillgetme,’herepeated.‘Whenthatdaycomes,donotdistressyourself.Youwill,Ihavenodoubt,havedoneallthatispossible.’
“Hethenproceededtooutlinehisplanswhichweresimpleenough.Heproposedtotakeasmallcottageinthecountrywherehecouldlivequietlyandgoonwithhiswork.IntheendheselectedavillageinSomerset—King’sGnaton,whichwassevenmilesfromarailwaystation,andsingularlyuntouchedbycivilization.Heboughtaverycharmingcottage,hadvariousimprovementsandalterationsmade,andsettleddowntheremostcontentedly.Hishouseholdconsistedofhisniece,Greta,asecretary,anoldGermanservantwhohadservedhimfaithfullyfornearlyfortyyears,andanoutsidehandymanandgardenerwhowasanativeofKing’sGnaton.”
“Thefoursuspects,”saidDr.Lloydsoftly.
“Exactly.Thefoursuspects.Thereisnotmuchmoretotell.LifewentonpeacefullyatKing’sGnatonforfivemonthsandthentheblowfell.Dr.Rosenfelldownthestairsonemorningandwasfounddeadabouthalfanhourlater.Atthetimetheaccidentmusthavetakenplace,Gertrudwasinherkitchenwiththedoorclosedandheardnothing—soshesays.Fr?uleinGretawasinthegardenplantingsomebulbs—again,soshesays.Thegardener,Dobbs,wasinthesmallpottingshedhavinghiselevenses—sohesays;andthesecretarywasoutforawalk,andoncemorethereisonlyhisownwordforit.Noonehasanalibi—noonecancorroborateanyoneelse’sstory.Butonethingiscertain.Noonefromoutsidecouldhavedoneit,forastrangerinthelittlevillageofKing’sGnatonwouldbenoticedwithoutfail.Boththebackandthefrontdoorswerelocked,eachmemberofthehouseholdhavingtheirownkey.Soyouseeitnarrowsdowntothosefour.Andyeteachoneseemstobeabovesuspicion.Greta,hisownbrother’schild.Gertrud,withfortyyearsoffaithfulservice.Dobbs,whohasneverbeenoutofKing’sGnaton.AndCharlesTempleton,thesecretary—”
“Yes,”saidColonelBantry,“whatabouthim?Heseemsthesuspiciouspersontomymind.Whatdoyouknowabouthim?”
“ItiswhatIknewabouthimthatputhimcompletelyoutofcourt—atanyrateatthetime,”saidSirHenrygravely.“Yousee,CharlesTempletonwasoneofmyownmen.”
“Oh!”saidColonelBantry,considerablytakenaback.
“Yes.Iwantedtohavesomeoneonthespot,andatthesametimeIdidn’twanttocausetalkinthevillage.Rosenreallyneededasecretary.IputTempletononthejob.He’sagentleman,hespeaksGermanfluently,andhe’saltogetheraveryablefellow.”
“But,then,whichdoyoususpect?”askedMrs.Bantryinabewilderedtone.“Theyallseemso—well,impossible.”
“Yes,soitappears.Butyoucanlookatthethingfromanotherangle.Fr?uleinGretawashisnieceandaverylovelygirl,buttheWarhasshownustimeandagainthatbrothercanturnagainstsister,orfatheragainstsonandsoon,andtheloveliestandgentlestofyounggirlsdidsomeofthemostamazingthings.ThesamethingappliestoGertrud,andwhoknowswhatotherforcesmightbeatworkinhercase.Aquarrel,perhaps,withhermaster,agrowingresentmentallthemorelastingbecauseofthelongfaithfulyearsbehindher.Elderlywomenofthatclasscanbeamazinglybittersometimes.AndDobbs?Washerightoutsideitbecausehehadnoconnectionwiththefamily?Moneywilldomuch.InsomewayDobbsmighthavebeenapproachedandbought.
“Foronethingseemscertain:Somemessageorsomeordermusthavecomefromoutside.Otherwisewhyfivemonths’immunity?No,theagentsofthesocietymusthavebeenatwork.NotyetsureofRosen’sperfidy,theydelayedtillthebetrayalhadbeentracedtohimbeyondanypossibledoubt.Andthen,alldoubtssetaside,theymusthavesenttheirmessagetothespywithinthegates—themessagethatsaid,‘Kill.’”
“Hownasty!”saidJaneHelier,andshuddered.
“Buthowdidthemessagecome?ThatwasthepointItriedtoelucidate—theonehopeofsolvingmyproblem.Oneofthosefourpeoplemusthavebeenapproachedorcommunicatedwithinsomeway.Therewouldbenodelay—Iknewthat—assoonasthecommandcame,itwouldbecarriedout.ThatwasapeculiarityoftheSchwartzeHand.
“Iwentintothequestion,wentintoitinawaythatwillprobablystrikeyouasbeingridiculouslymeticulous.Whohadcometothecottagethatmorning?Ieliminatednobody.Hereisthelist.”
Hetookanenvelopefromhispocketandselectedapaperfromitscontents.
“Thebutcher,bringingsomeneckofmutton.Investigatedandfoundcorrect.
“Thegrocer’sassistant,bringingapacketofcornflour,twopoundsofsugar,apoundofbutter,andapoundofcoffee.Alsoinvestigatedandfoundcorrect.
“Thepostman,bringingtwocircularsforFr?uleinRosen,alocalletterforGertrud,threelettersforDr.Rosen,onewithaforeignstampandtwolettersforMr.Templeton,onealsowithaforeignstamp.”
SirHenrypausedandthentookasheafofdocumentsfromtheenvelope.
“Itmayinterestyoutoseetheseforyourself.Theywerehandedmebythevariouspeopleconcerned,orcollectedfromthewaste-paperbasket.Ineedhardlysaythey’vebeentestedbyexpertsforinvisibleink,etc.Noexcitementofthatkindispossible.”
Everyonecrowdedroundtolook.ThecatalogueswererespectivelyfromanurserymanandfromaprominentLondonfurestablishment.ThetwobillsaddressedtoDr.RosenwerealocaloneforseedsforthegardenandonefromaLondonstationeryfirm.Theletteraddressedtohimranasfollows:
MyDearRosen—justbackfromDr.HelmuthSpath’s.IsawEdgarJacksontheotherday.HeandAmosPerryhavejustcomebackfromTsingtau.InallHonestyIcan’tsayIenvythemthetrip.Letmehavenewsofyousoon.AsIsaidbefore:Bewareofacertainperson.YouknowwhoImean,thoughyoudon’tagree.—
Yours,Georgine.
“Mr.Templeton’smailconsistedofthisbill,whichasyousee,isanaccountrenderedfromhistailor,andaletterfromafriendinGermany,”wentonSirHenry.“Thelatter,unfortunately,hetoreupwhilstoutonhiswalk.FinallywehavetheletterreceivedbyGertrud.”
DearMrs.Swartz,—We’rehopingashowyoubeabletocomethesocialonfridayevening,thevicarsayshashehopesyouwill—oneandallbeingwelcome.Theresipyforthehamwasverygood,andIthanksyouforit.HopingasthisfindsyouwellandthatweshallseeyoufridayIremain.—Yoursfaithfully,EmmaGreene.
Dr.LloydsmiledalittleoverthisandsodidMrs.Bantry.
“Ithinkthelastlettercanbeputoutofcourt,”saidDr.Lloyd.
“Ithoughtthesame,”saidSirHenry;“butItooktheprecautionofverifyingthattherewasaMrs.GreeneandaChurchSocial.Onecan’tbetoocareful,youknow.”
“That’swhatourfriendMissMarplealwayssays,”saidDr.Lloyd,smiling.“You’relostinadaydream,MissMarple.Whatareyouthinkingout?”
MissMarplegaveastart.
“Sostupidofme,”shesaid.“IwasjustwonderingwhythewordHonestyinDr.Rosen’sletterwasspeltwithacapitalH.”
Mrs.Bantrypickeditup.
“Soitis,”shesaid.“Oh!”
“Yes,dear,”saidMissMarple.“Ithoughtyou’dnotice!”
“There’sadefinitewarninginthatletter,”saidColonelBantry.“That’sthefirstthingcaughtmyattention.Inoticemorethanyou’dthink.Yes,adefinitewarning—againstwhom?”
“There’sratheracuriouspointaboutthatletter,”saidSirHenry.“AccordingtoTempleton,Dr.Rosenopenedtheletteratbreakfastandtosseditacrosstohimsayinghedidn’tknowwhothefellowwasfromAdam.”
“Butitwasn’tafellow,”saidJaneHelier.“Itwassigned‘Georgina.’”
“It’sdifficulttosaywhichitis,”saidDr.Lloyd.“ItmightbeGeorgey;butitcertainlylooksmorelikeGeorgina.Onlyitstrikesmethatthewritingisaman’s.”
“Youknow,that’sinteresting,”saidColonelBantry.“Histossingitacrossthetablelikethatandpretendingheknewnothingaboutit.Wantedtowatchsomebody’sface.Whoseface—thegirl’s?ortheman’s?”
“Oreventhecook’s?”suggestedMrs.Bantry.“Shemighthavebeenintheroombringinginthebreakfast.ButwhatIdon’tseeis…it’smostpeculiar—”
Shefrownedovertheletter.MissMarpledrewclosertoher.MissMarple’sfingerwentoutandtouchedthesheetofpaper.Theymurmuredtogether.
“Butwhydidthesecretarytearuptheotherletter?”askedJaneHeliersuddenly.“Itseems—oh!Idon’tknow—itseemsqueer.WhyshouldhehavelettersfromGermany?Although,ofcourse,ifhe’sabovesuspicion,asyousay—”
“ButSirHenrydidn’tsaythat,”saidMissMarplequickly,lookingupfromhermurmuredconferencewithMrs.Bantry.“Hesaidfoursuspects.SothatshowsthatheincludesMr.Templeton.I’mright,amInot,SirHenry?”
“Yes,MissMarple.Ihavelearnedonethingthroughbitterexperience.Neversaytoyourselfthatanyoneisabovesuspicion.Igaveyoureasonsjustnowwhythreeofthesepeoplemightafterallbeguilty,unlikelyasitseemed.IdidnotatthattimeapplythesameprocesstoCharlesTempleton.ButIcametoitatlastthroughpursuingtheruleIhavejustmentioned.AndIwasforcedtorecognizethis:Thateveryarmyandeverynavyandeverypoliceforcehasacertainnumberoftraitorswithinitsranks,muchaswehatetoadmittheidea.AndIexamineddispassionatelythecaseagainstCharlesTempleton.
“IaskedmyselfverymuchthesamequestionsasMissHelierhasjustasked.Whyshouldhe,aloneofallthehouse,notbeabletoproducetheletterhehadreceived—aletter,moreover,withaGermanstamponit.WhyshouldhehavelettersfromGermany?
“Thelastquestionwasaninnocentone,andIactuallyputittohim.Hisreplycamesimplyenough.Hismother’ssisterwasmarriedtoaGerman.TheletterhadbeenfromaGermangirlcousin.SoIlearnedsomethingIdidnotknowbefore—thatCharlesTempletonhadrelationswithpeopleinGermany.Andthatputhimdefinitelyonthelistofsuspects—verymuchso.Heismyownman—aladIhavealwayslikedandtrusted;butincommonjusticeandfairnessImustadmitthatheheadsthatlist.
“Butthereitis—Idonotknow!Idonotknow…AndinallprobabilityInevershallknow.Itisnotaquestionofpunishingamurderer.Itisaquestionthattomeseemsahundredtimesmoreimportant.Itistheblighting,perhaps,ofanhonourableman’swholecareer…becauseofsuspicion—asuspicionthatIdarenotdisregard.”
MissMarplecoughedandsaidgently:
“Then,SirHenry,ifIunderstandyourightly,itisthisyoungMr.Templetononlywhoissomuchonyourmind?”
“Yes,inasense.Itshould,intheory,bethesameforallfour,butthatisnotactuallythecase.Dobbs,forinstance—suspicionmayattachtohiminmymind,butitwillnotactuallyaffecthiscareer.NobodyinthevillagehaseverhadanyideathatoldDr.Rosen’sdeathwasanythingbutanaccident.Gertrudisslightlymoreaffected.Itmustmake,forinstance,adifferenceinFr?uleinRosen’sattitudetowardher.Butthat,possibly,isnotofgreatimportancetoher.
“AsforGretaRosen—well,herewecometothecruxofthematter.GretaisaveryprettygirlandCharlesTempletonisagood-lookingyoungman,andforfivemonthstheywerethrowntogetherwithnoouterdistractions.Theinevitablehappened.Theyfellinlovewitheachother—eveniftheydidnotcometothepointofadmittingthefactinwords.
“Andthenthecatastrophehappens.ItisthreemonthsagonowandadayortwoafterIreturned,GretaRosencametoseeme.ShehadsoldthecottageandwasreturningtoGermany,havingfinallysettledupheruncle’saffairs.Shecametomepersonally,althoughsheknewIhadretired,becauseitwasreallyaboutapersonalmattershewantedtoseeme.Shebeataboutthebushalittle,butatlastitallcameout.WhatdidIthink?ThatletterwiththeGermanstamp—shehadworriedaboutitandworriedaboutit—theoneCharleshadtornup.Wasitallright?Surelyitmustbeallright.Ofcourseshebelievedhisstory,but—oh!ifsheonlyknew!Ifsheknew—forcertain.
“Yousee?Thesamefeeling:thewishtotrust—butthehorriblelurkingsuspicion,thrustresolutelytothebackofthemind,butpersistingnevertheless.Ispoketoherwithabsolutefrankness,andaskedhertodothesame.IaskedherwhethershehadbeenonthepointofcaringforCharles,andheforher.
“‘Ithinkso,’shesaid.‘Oh,yes,Iknowitwasso.Weweresohappy.Everydaypassedsocontentedly.Weknew—webothknew.Therewasnohurry—therewasallthetimeintheworld.Somedayhewouldtellmehelovedme,andIshouldtellhimthatItoo—Ah!Butyoucanguess!Andnowitisallchanged.Ablackcloudhascomebetweenus—weareconstrained,whenwemeetwedonotknowwhattosay.Itis,perhaps,thesamewithhimaswithme…Weareeachsayingtoourselves,“IfIweresure!”Thatiswhy,SirHenry,Ibegofyoutosaytome,“Youmaybesure,whoeverkilledyouruncle,itwasnotCharlesTempleton!”Sayittome!Oh,sayittome!Ibeg—Ibeg!’
“And,damnitall,”saidSirHenry,bringingdownhisfistwithabangonthetable,“Icouldn’tsayittoher.They’lldriftfartherandfartherapart,thosetwo—withsuspicionlikeaghostbetweenthem—aghostthatcan’tbelaid.”
Heleantbackinhischair,hisfacelookedtiredandgrey.Heshookhisheadonceortwicedespondently.
“Andthere’snothingmorecanbedone,unless—”Hesatupstraightagainandatinywhimsicalsmilecrossedhisface—“unlessMissMarplecanhelpus.Can’tyou,MissMarple?I’veafeelingthatlettermightbeinyourline,youknow.TheoneabouttheChurchSocial.Doesn’titremindyouofsomethingorsomeonethatmakeseverythingperfectlyplain?Can’tyoudosomethingtohelptwohelplessyoungpeoplewhowanttobehappy?”
Behindthewhimsicalitytherewassomethingearnestinhisappeal.Hehadcometothinkveryhighlyofthementalpowersofthisfrailold-fashionedmaidenlady.Helookedacrossatherwithsomethingverylikehopeinhiseyes.
MissMarplecoughedandsmoothedherlace.
“ItdoesremindmealittleofAnniePoultny,”sheadmitted.“Ofcoursetheletterisperfectlyplain—bothtoMrs.Bantryandmyself.Idon’tmeantheChurchSocialletter,buttheotherone.YoulivingsomuchinLondonandnotbeingagardener,SirHenry,wouldnothavebeenlikelytonotice.”
“Eh?”saidSirHenry.“Noticewhat?”
Mrs.Bantryreachedoutahandandselectedacatalogue.Sheopeneditandreadaloudwithgusto:
“Dr.HelmuthSpath.Purelilac,awonderfullyfineflower,carriedonexceptionallylongandstiffstem.Splendidforcuttingandgardendecoration.Anoveltyofstrikingbeauty.
“EdgarJackson.Beautifullyshapedchrysanthemum-likeflowerofadistinctbrick-redcolour.
“AmosPerry.Brilliantred,highlydecorative.
“Tsingtau.Brilliantorange-red,showygardenplantandlastingcutflower.
“Honesty—”
“WithacapitalH,youremember,”murmuredMissMarple.
“Honesty.Roseandwhiteshades,enormousperfectshapedflower.”
Mrs.Bantryflungdownthecatalogue,andsaidwithimmenseexplosiveforce:
“Dahlias!”
“Andtheirinitiallettersspell‘DEATH,’explainedMissMarple.
“ButthelettercametoDr.Rosenhimself,”objectedSirHenry.
“Thatwasthecleverpartofit,”saidMissMarple.“Thatandthewarninginit.Whatwouldhedo,gettingaletterfromsomeonehedidn’tknow,fullofnameshedidn’tknow.Why,ofcourse,tossitovertohissecretary.”
“Then,afterall—”
“Oh,no!”saidMissMarple.“Notthesecretary.Why,that’swhatmakesitsoperfectlyclearthatitwasn’thim.He’dneverhaveletthatletterbefoundifso.Andequallyhe’dneverhavedestroyedalettertohimselfwithaGermanstamponit.Really,hisinnocenceis—ifyou’llallowmetousetheword—justshining.”
“Thenwho—”
“Well,itseemsalmostcertain—ascertainasanythingcanbeinthisworld.Therewasanotherpersonatthebreakfasttable,andshewould—quitenaturallyunderthecircumstances—putoutherhandfortheletterandreadit.Andthatwouldbethat.Yourememberthatshegotagardeningcataloguebythesamepost—”
“GretaRosen,”saidSirHenry,slowly.“Thenhervisittome—”
“Gentlemenneverseethroughthesethings,”saidMissMarple.“AndI’mafraidtheyoftenthinkweoldwomenare—well,cats,toseethingsthewaywedo.Butthereitis.Onedoesknowagreatdealaboutone’sownsex,unfortunately.I’venodoubttherewasabarrierbetweenthem.Theyoungmanfeltasuddeninexplicablerepulsion.Hesuspected,purelythroughinstinct,andcouldn’thidethesuspicion.AndIreallythinkthatthegirl’svisittoyouwasjustpurespite.Shewassafeenoughreally;butshejustwentoutofherwaytofixyoursuspicionsdefinitelyonpoorMr.Templeton.Youweren’tnearlysosureabouthimuntilafterhervisit.”
“I’msureitwasnothingthatshesaid—”beganSirHenry.
“Gentlemen,”saidMissMarplecalmly,“neverseethroughthesethings.”
“Andthatgirl—”hestopped.“Shecommitsacold-bloodedmurderandgetsoffscot-free!”
“Oh!no,SirHenry,”saidMissMarple.“Notscot-free.NeitheryounorIbelievethat.Rememberwhatyousaidnotlongago.No.GretaRosenwillnotescapepunishment.Tobeginwith,shemustbeinwithaveryqueersetofpeople—blackmailersandterrorists—associateswhowilldohernogood,andwillprobablybringhertoamiserableend.Asyousay,onemustn’twastethoughtsontheguilty—it’stheinnocentwhomatter.Mr.Templeton,whoIdaresaywillmarrythatGermancousin,histearingupherletterlooks—well,itlookssuspicious—usingthewordinquiteadifferentsensefromtheonewe’vebeenusingalltheevening.Alittleasthoughhewereafraidoftheothergirlnoticingoraskingtoseeit?Yes,Ithinktheremusthavebeensomelittleromancethere.Andthenthere’sDobbs—though,asyousay,Idaresayitwon’tmattermuchtohim.Hiselevensesareprobablyallhethinksabout.Andthenthere’sthatpooroldGertrud—theonewhoremindedmeofAnniePoultny.PoorAnniePoultny.Fiftyyears’faithfulserviceandsuspectedofmakingawaywithMissLamb’swill,thoughnothingcouldbeproved.Almostbrokethepoorcreature’sfaithfulheart;andthenaftershewasdeaditcametolightinthesecretdraweroftheteacaddywhereoldMissLambhadputitherselfforsafety.ButtoolatethenforpoorAnnie.
“That’swhatworriesmesoaboutthatpooroldGermanwoman.Whenoneisold,onebecomesembitteredveryeasily.IfeltmuchmoresorryforherthanforMr.Templeton,whoisyoungandgood-lookingandevidentlyafavouritewiththeladies.Youwillwritetoher,won’tyou,SirHenry,andjusttellherthatherinnocenceisestablishedbeyonddoubt?Herdearoldmasterdead,andshenodoubtbroodingandfeelingherselfsuspectedof…Oh!Itwon’tbearthinkingabout!”
“Iwillwrite,MissMarple,”saidSirHenry.Helookedathercuriously.“Youknow,Ishallneverquiteunderstandyou.YouroutlookisalwaysadifferentonefromwhatIexpect.”
“Myoutlook,Iamafraid,isaverypettyone,”saidMissMarplehumbly.“IhardlyevergooutofSt.MaryMead.”
“AndyetyouhavesolvedwhatmaybecalledanInternationalmystery,”saidSirHenry.“Foryouhavesolvedit.Iamconvincedofthat.”
MissMarpleblushed,thenbridledalittle.
“Iwas,Ithink,welleducatedforthestandardofmyday.MysisterandIhadaGermangoverness—aFr?ulein.Averysentimentalcreature.Shetaughtusthelanguageofflowers—aforgottenstudynowadays,butmostcharming.Ayellowtulip,forinstance,meansHopelessLove,whilstaChinaAstermeansIdieofJealousyatyourfeet.ThatletterwassignedGeorgine,whichIseemtorememberisDahliainGerman,andthatofcoursemadethewholethingperfectlyclear.IwishIcouldrememberthemeaningofDahlia,butalas,thateludesme.Mymemoryisnotwhatitwas.”
“Atanyrateitdidn’tmeanDEATH.”
“No,indeed.Horrible,isitnot?Thereareverysadthingsintheworld.”
“Thereare,”saidMrs.Bantrywithasigh.“It’sluckyonehasflowersandone’sfriends.”
“Sheputsuslast,youobserve,”saidDr.Lloyd.
“Amanusedtosendmepurpleorchidseverynighttothetheatre,”saidJanedreamily.
“‘Iawaityourfavours,’—that’swhatthatmeans,”saidMissMarplebrightly.
SirHenrygaveapeculiarsortofcoughandturnedhisheadaway.
MissMarplegaveasuddenexclamation.
“I’veremembered.Dahliasmean‘TreacheryandMisrepresentation.’”
“Wonderful,”saidSirHenry.“Absolutelywonderful.”
Andhesighed.
Ten
ACHRISTMASTRAGEDY
“Ihaveacomplainttomake,”saidSirHenryClithering.Hiseyestwinkledgentlyashelookedroundattheassembledcompany.ColonelBantry,hislegsstretchedout,wasfrowningatthemantelpieceasthoughitwereadelinquentsoldieronparade,hiswifewassurreptitiouslyglancingatacatalogueofbulbswhichhadcomebythelatepost,Dr.LloydwasgazingwithfrankadmirationatJaneHelier,andthatbeautifulyoungactressherselfwasthoughtfullyregardingherpinkpolishednails.Onlythatelderly,spinsterlady,MissMarple,wassittingboltupright,andherfadedblueeyesmetSirHenry’swithanansweringtwinkle.
“Acomplaint?”shemurmured.
“Averyseriouscomplaint.Weareacompanyofsix,threerepresentativesofeachsex,andIprotestonbehalfofthedowntroddenmales.Wehavehadthreestoriestoldtonight—andtoldbythethreemen!Iprotestthattheladieshavenotdonetheirfairshare.”
“Oh!”saidMrs.Bantrywithindignation.“I’msurewehave.We’velistenedwiththemostintelligentappreciation.We’vedisplayedthetruewomanlyattitude—notwishingtothrustourselvesinthelimelight!”
“It’sanexcellentexcuse,”saidSirHenry;“butitwon’tdo.Andthere’saverygoodprecedentintheArabianNights!So,forward,Scheherazade.”
“Meaningme?”saidMrs.Bantry.“ButIdon’tknowanythingtotell.I’veneverbeensurroundedbybloodormystery.”
“Idon’tabsolutelyinsistuponblood,”saidSirHenry.“ButI’msureoneofyouthreeladieshasgotapetmystery.Comenow,MissMarple—the‘CuriousCoincidenceoftheCharwoman’orthe‘MysteryoftheMothers’Meeting.’Don’tdisappointmeinSt.MaryMead.”
MissMarpleshookherhead.
“Nothingthatwouldinterestyou,SirHenry.Wehaveourlittlemysteries,ofcourse—therewasthatgillofpickedshrimpsthatdisappearedsoincomprehensibly;butthatwouldn’tinterestyoubecauseitallturnedouttobesotrivial,thoughthrowingaconsiderablelightonhumannature.”
“Youhavetaughtmetodoteonhumannature,”saidSirHenrysolemnly.
“Whataboutyou,MissHelier?”askedColonelBantry.“Youmusthavehadsomeinterestingexperiences.”
“Yes,indeed,”saidDr.Lloyd.
“Me?”saidJane.“Youmean—youwantmetotellyousomethingthathappenedtome?”
“Ortooneofyourfriends,”amendedSirHenry.
“Oh!”saidJanevaguely.“Idon’tthinkanythinghaseverhappenedtome—Imeannotthatkindofthing.Flowers,ofcourse,andqueermessages—butthat’sjustmen,isn’tit?Idon’tthink”—shepausedandappearedlostinthought.
“Iseeweshallhavetohavethatepicoftheshrimps,”saidSirHenry.“Nowthen,MissMarple.”
“You’resofondofyourjoke,SirHenry.Theshrimpsareonlynonsense;butnowIcometothinkofit,Idorememberoneincident—atleastnotexactlyanincident,somethingverymuchmoreserious—atragedy.AndIwas,inaway,mixedupinit;andforwhatIdid,Ihaveneverhadanyregrets—no,noregretsatall.Butitdidn’thappeninSt.MaryMead.”
“Thatdisappointsme,”saidSirHenry.“ButIwillendeavourtobearup.Iknewweshouldnotrelyuponyouinvain.”
Hesettledhimselfintheattitudeofalistener.MissMarplegrewslightlypink.
“IhopeIshallbeabletotellitproperly,”shesaidanxiously.“IfearIamveryinclinedtobecomerambling.Onewandersfromthepoint—altogetherwithoutknowingthatoneisdoingso.Anditissohardtoremembereachfactinitsproperorder.YoumustallbearwithmeifItellmystorybadly.Ithappenedaverylongtimeagonow.
“AsIsay,itwasnotconnectedwithSt.MaryMead.Asamatteroffact,ithadtodowithaHydro—”
“Doyoumeanaseaplane?”askedJanewithwideeyes.
“Youwouldn’tknow,dear,”saidMrs.Bantry,andexplained.Herhusbandaddedhisquota:
“Beastlyplaces—absolutelybeastly!Gottogetupearlyanddrinkfilthy-tastingwater.Lotofoldwomensittingabout.Ill-naturedtittletattle.God,whenIthink—”
“Now,Arthur,”saidMrs.Bantryplacidly.“Youknowitdidyouallthegoodintheworld.”
“Lotofoldwomensittingroundtalkingscandal,”gruntedColonelBantry.
“ThatIamafraidistrue,”saidMissMarple.“Imyself—”
“MydearMissMarple,”criedtheColonel,horrified.“Ididn’tmeanforonemoment—”
Withpinkcheeksandalittlegestureofthehand,MissMarplestoppedhim.
“Butitistrue,ColonelBantry.OnlyIshouldjustliketosaythis.Letmerecollectmythoughts.Yes.Talkingscandal,asyousay—well,itisdoneagooddeal.Andpeopleareverydownonit—especiallyyoungpeople.Mynephew,whowritesbooks—andverycleverones,Ibelieve—hassaidsomemostscathingthingsabouttakingpeople’scharactersawaywithoutanykindofproof—andhowwickeditis,andallthat.ButwhatIsayisthatnoneoftheseyoungpeopleeverstoptothink.Theyreallydon’texaminethefacts.Surelythewholecruxofthematteristhis:Howoftenistittletattle,asyoucallit,true!AndIthinkif,asIsay,theyreallyexaminedthefactstheywouldfindthatitwastrueninetimesoutoften!That’sreallyjustwhatmakespeoplesoannoyedaboutit.”
“Theinspiredguess,”saidSirHenry.
“No,notthat,notthatatall!It’sreallyamatterofpracticeandexperience.AnEgyptologist,soI’veheard,ifyoushowhimoneofthosecuriouslittlebeetles,cantellyoubythelookandthefeelofthethingwhatdateBCitis,orifit’saBirminghamimitation.Andhecan’talwaysgiveadefiniterulefordoingso.Hejustknows.Hislifehasbeenspenthandlingsuchthings.
“Andthat’swhatI’mtryingtosay(verybadly,Iknow).Whatmynephewcalls‘superfluouswomen’havealotoftimeontheirhands,andtheirchiefinterestisusuallypeople.Andso,yousee,theygettobewhatonemightcallexperts.Nowyoungpeoplenowadays—theytalkveryfreelyaboutthingsthatweren’tmentionedinmyyoungdays,butontheotherhandtheirmindsareterriblyinnocent.Theybelieveineveryoneandeverything.Andifonetriestowarnthem,eversogently,theytellonethatonehasaVictorianmind—andthat,theysay,islikeasink.”
“Afterall,”saidSirHenry,“whatiswrongwithasink?”
“Exactly,”saidMissMarpleeagerly.“It’sthemostnecessarythinginanyhouse;but,ofcourse,notromantic.NowImustconfessthatIhavemyfeelings,likeeveryoneelse,andIhavesometimesbeencruellyhurtbyunthinkingremarks.Iknowgentlemenarenotinterestedindomesticmatters,butImustjustmentionmymaidEthel—averygood-lookinggirlandobligingineveryway.NowIrealizedassoonasIsawherthatshewasthesametypeasAnnieWebbandpoorMrs.Bruitt’sgirl.Iftheopportunityarosemineandthinewouldmeannothingtoher.SoIlethergoatthemonthandIgaveherawrittenreferencesayingshewashonestandsober,butprivatelyIwarnedoldMrs.Edwardsagainsttakingher;andmynephew,Raymond,wasexceedinglyangryandsaidhehadneverheardofanythingsowicked—yes,wicked.Well,shewenttoLadyAshton,whomIfeltnoobligationtowarn—andwhathappened?Allthelacecutoffherunderclothesandtwodiamondbroochestaken—andthegirldepartedinthemiddleofthenightandneverheardofsince!”
MissMarplepaused,drewalongbreath,andthenwenton.
“You’llbesayingthishasnothingtodowithwhatwentonatKestonSpaHydro—butithasinaway.ItexplainswhyIfeltnodoubtinmymindthefirstmomentIsawtheSanderstogetherthathemeanttodoawaywithher.”
“Eh?”saidSirHenry,leaningforward
MissMarpleturnedaplacidfacetohim
“AsIsay,SirHenry,Ifeltnodoubtinmyownmind.Mr.Sanderswasabig,good-looking,florid-facedman,veryheartyinhismannerandpopularwithall.Andnobodycouldhavebeenpleasantertohiswifethanhewas.ButIknew!Hemeanttomakeawaywithher.”
“MydearMissMarple—”
“Yes,Iknow.That’swhatmynephew,RaymondWest,wouldsay.He’dtellmeIhadn’tashadowofproof.ButIrememberWalterHones,whokepttheGreenMan.Walkinghomewithhiswifeonenightshefellintotheriver—andhecollectedtheinsurancemoney!Andoneortwootherpeoplethatarewalkingaboutscot-freetothisday—oneindeedinourownclassoflife.WenttoSwitzerlandforasummerholidayclimbingwithhiswife.Iwarnedhernottogo—thepoordeardidn’tgetangrywithmeasshemighthavedone—sheonlylaughed.ItseemedtoherfunnythataqueeroldthinglikemeshouldsaysuchthingsaboutherHarry.Well,well,therewasanaccident—andHarryismarriedtoanotherwomannow.ButwhatcouldIdo?Iknew,buttherewasnoproof.”
“Oh!MissMarple,”criedMrs.Bantry.“Youdon’treallymean—”
“Mydear,thesethingsareverycommon—verycommonindeed.Andgentlemenareespeciallytempted,beingsomuchthestronger.Soeasyifathinglookslikeanaccident.AsIsay,IknewatoncewiththeSanders.Itwasonatram.ItwasfullinsideandIhadhadtogoontop.WeallthreegotuptogetoffandMr.Sanderslosthisbalanceandfellrightagainsthiswife,sendingherheadfirstdownthestairs.Fortunatelytheconductorwasaverystrongyoungmanandcaughther.”
“Butsurelythatmusthavebeenanaccident.”
“Ofcourseitwasanaccident—nothingcouldhavelookedmoreaccidental!ButMr.SandershadbeenintheMerchantService,sohetoldme,andamanwhocankeephisbalanceonanastytiltingboatdoesn’tloseitontopofatramifanoldwomanlikemedoesn’t.Don’ttellme!”
“Atanyratewecantakeitthatyoumadeupyourmind,MissMarple,”saidSirHenry.“Madeitupthenandthere.”
Theoldladynodded.
“Iwassureenough,andanotherincidentincrossingthestreetnotlongafterwardsmademesurerstill.NowIaskyou,whatcouldIdo,SirHenry?Herewasanicecontentedhappylittlemarriedwomanshortlygoingtobemurdered.”
“Mydearlady,youtakemybreathaway.”
“That’sbecause,likemostpeoplenowadays,youwon’tfacefacts.Youprefertothinksuchathingcouldn’tbe.Butitwasso,andIknewit.Butoneissosadlyhandicapped!Icouldn’t,forinstance,gotothepolice.Andtowarntheyoungwomanwould,Icouldsee,beuseless.Shewasdevotedtotheman.IjustmadeitmybusinesstofindoutasmuchasIcouldaboutthem.Onehasalotofopportunitiesdoingone’sneedleworkroundthefire.Mrs.Sanders(Gladys,hernamewas)wasonlytoowillingtotalk.Itseemstheyhadnotbeenmarriedverylong.Herhusbandhadsomepropertythatwascomingtohim,butforthemomenttheywereverybadlyoff.Infact,theywerelivingonherlittleincome.Onehasheardthattalebefore.Shebemoanedthefactthatshecouldnottouchthecapital.Itseemsthatsomebodyhadhadsomesensesomewhere!Butthemoneywasherstowillaway—Ifoundthatout.Andsheandherhusbandhadmadewillsinfavourofeachotherdirectlyaftertheirmarriage.Verytouching.Ofcourse,whenJack’saffairscameright—Thatwastheburdenalldaylong,andinthemeantimetheywereveryhardupindeed—actuallyhadaroomonthetopfloor,allamongtheservants—andsodangerousincaseoffire,though,asithappened,therewasafireescapejustoutsidetheirwindow.Iinquiredcarefullyiftherewasabalcony—dangerousthings,balconies.Onepush—youknow!
“Imadeherpromisenottogooutonthebalcony;IsaidI’dhadadream.Thatimpressedher—onecandoalotwithsuperstitionsometimes.Shewasafairgirl,ratherwashed-outcomplexion,andanuntidyrollofhaironherneck.Verycredulous.SherepeatedwhatIhadsaidtoherhusband,andInoticedhimlookingatmeinacuriouswayonceortwice.Hewasn’tcredulous;andheknewI’dbeenonthattram.
“ButIwasveryworried—terriblyworried—becauseIcouldn’tseehowtocircumventhim.IcouldpreventanythinghappeningattheHydro,justbysayingafewwordstoshowhimIsuspected.Butthatonlymeanthisputtingoffhisplantilllater.No,Ibegantobelievethattheonlypolicywasaboldone—somehoworothertolayatrapforhim.IfIcouldinducehimtoattemptherlifeinawayofmyownchoosing—well,thenhewouldbeunmasked,andshewouldbeforcedtofacethetruthhowevermuchofashockitwastoher.”
“Youtakemybreathaway,”saidDr.Lloyd.“Whatconceivableplancouldyouadopt?”
“I’dhavefoundone—neverfear,”saidMissMarple.“Butthemanwastoocleverforme.Hedidn’twait.HethoughtImightsuspect,andsohestruckbeforeIcouldbesure.HeknewIwouldsuspectanaccident.Sohemadeitmurder.”
Alittlegaspwentroundthecircle.MissMarplenoddedandsetherlipsgrimlytogether.
“I’mafraidI’veputthatratherabruptly.Imusttryandtellyouexactlywhatoccurred.I’vealwaysfeltverybitterlyaboutit—itseemstomethatIought,somehow,tohavepreventedit.ButdoubtlessProvidenceknewbest.IdidwhatIcouldatallevents.
“TherewaswhatIcanonlydescribeasacuriouslyeeriefeelingintheair.Thereseemedtobesomethingweighingonusall.Afeelingofmisfortune.Tobeginwith,therewasGeorge,thehallporter.Hadbeenthereforyearsandkneweverybody.Bronchitisandpneumonia,andpassedawayonthefourthday.Terriblysad.Arealblowtoeverybody.AndfourdaysbeforeChristmastoo.Andthenoneofthehousemaids—suchanicegirl—asepticfinger,actuallydiedintwenty-fourhours.
“IwasinthedrawingroomwithMissTrollopeandoldMrs.Carpenter,andMrs.Carpenterwasbeingpositivelyghoulish—relishingitall,youknow.
“‘Markmywords,’shesaid.‘Thisisn’ttheend.Youknowthesaying?Nevertwowithoutthree.I’veprovedittruetimeandagain.There’llbeanotherdeath.Notadoubtofit.Andweshan’thavelongtowait.Nevertwowithoutthree.’
“Asshesaidthelastwords,noddingherheadandclickingherknittingneedles,IjustchancedtolookupandtherewasMr.Sandersstandinginthedoorway.Justforaminutehewasoffguard,andIsawthelookinhisfaceasplainasplain.IshallbelievetillmydyingdaythatitwasthatghoulishMrs.Carpenter’swordsthatputthewholethingintohishead.Isawhismindworking.
“Hecameforwardintotheroomsmilinginhisgenialway.
“‘AnyChristmasshoppingIcandoforyouladies?’heasked.‘I’mgoingdowntoKestonpresently.’
“Hestayedaminuteortwo,laughingandtalking,andthenwentout.AsItellyou,Iwastroubled,andIsaidstraightaway:
“‘Where’sMrs.Sanders?Doesanyoneknow?’
“Mrs.Trollopesaidshe’dgoneouttosomefriendsofhers,theMortimers,toplaybridge,andthateasedmymindforthemoment.ButIwasstillveryworriedandmostuncertainastowhattodo.AbouthalfanhourlaterIwentuptomyroom.ImetDr.Coles,mydoctor,there,comingdownthestairsasIwasgoingup,andasIhappenedtowanttoconsulthimaboutmyrheumatism,Itookhimintomyroomwithmethenandthere.Hementionedtomethen(inconfidence,hesaid)aboutthedeathofthepoorgirlMary.Themanagerdidn’twantthenewstogetabout,hesaid,sowouldIkeepittomyself.OfcourseIdidn’ttellhimthatwe’dallbeendiscussingnothingelseforthelasthour—eversincethepoorgirlbreathedherlast.Thesethingsarealwaysknownatonce,andamanofhisexperienceshouldknowthatwellenough;butDr.Colesalwayswasasimpleunsuspiciousfellowwhobelievedwhathewantedtobelieveandthat’sjustwhatalarmedmeaminutelater.HesaidashewasleavingthatSandershadaskedhimtohavealookathiswife.Itseemedshe’dbeenseedyoflate—indigestion,etc.
“Nowthatveryself-samedayGladysSandershadsaidtomethatshe’dgotawonderfuldigestionandwasthankfulforit.
“Yousee?Allmysuspicionsofthatmancamebackahundredfold.Hewaspreparingtheway—forwhat?Dr.ColesleftbeforeIcouldmakeupmymindwhethertospeaktohimornot—thoughreallyifIhadspokenIshouldn’thaveknownwhattosay.AsIcameoutofmyroom,themanhimself—Sanders—camedownthestairsfromthefloorabove.Hewasdressedtogooutandheaskedmeagainifhecoulddoanythingformeinthetown.ItwasallIcoulddotobeciviltotheman!Iwentstraightintotheloungeandorderedtea.Itwasjustonhalfpastfive,Iremember.
“NowI’mveryanxioustoputclearlywhathappenednext.IwasstillintheloungeataquartertosevenwhenMr.Sanderscamein.Thereweretwogentlemenwithhimandallthreeofthemwereinclinedtobealittleonthelivelyside.Mr.SanderslefthistwofriendsandcamerightovertowhereIwassittingwithMissTrollope.Heexplainedthat
“‘Andyousee,ladies,’hesaid.‘I’monlyaroughsailorman.WhatdoIknowaboutsuchthings?I’vehadthreesenttomeonapprovalandIwantanexpertopiniononthem.’
“Wesaid,ofcourse,thatwewouldbedelightedtohelphim,andheaskedifwe’dmindcomingupstairs,ashiswifemightcomeinanyminuteifhebroughtthethingsdown.Sowewentupwithhim.Ishallneverforgetwhathappenednext—Icanfeelmylittlefingerstinglingnow.
“Mr.Sandersopenedthedoorofthebedroomandswitchedonthelight.Idon’tknowwhichofussawitfirst..
“Mrs.Sanderswaslyingonthefloor,facedownwards—dead.
“Igottoherfirst.Ikneltdownandtookherhandandfeltforthepulse,butitwasuseless,thearmitselfwascoldandstiff.Justbyherheadwasastockingfilledwithsand—theweaponshehadbeenstruckdownwith.MissTrollope,sillycreature,wasmoaningandmoaningbythedoorandholdingherhead.Sandersgaveagreatcryof‘Mywife,mywife,’andrushedtoher.Istoppedhimtouchingher.Yousee,Iwassureatthemomenthehaddoneit,andtheremighthavebeensomethingthathewantedtotakeawayorhide.
“‘Nothingmustbetouched,’Isaid.‘Pullyourselftogether,Mr.Sanders.MissTrollope,pleasegodownandfetchthemanager.’
“Istayedthere,kneelingbythebody.Iwasn’tgoingtoleaveSandersalonewithit.AndyetIwasforcedtoadmitthatifthemanwasacting,hewasactingmarvellously.Helookeddazedandbewilderedandscaredoutofhiswits.
“Themanagerwaswithusinnotime.Hemadeaquickinspectionoftheroomthenturnedusalloutandlockedthedoor,thekeyofwhichhetook.Thenhewentoffandtelephonedtothepolice.Itseemedapositiveagebeforetheycame(welearntafterwardsthatthelinewasoutoforder).Themanagerhadtosendamessengertothepolicestation,andtheHydroisrightoutofthetown,upontheedgeofthemoor;andMrs.Carpentertriedusallveryseverely.Shewassopleasedatherprophecyof‘Nevertwowithoutthree’comingtruesoquickly.Sanders,Ihear,wanderedoutintothegrounds,clutchinghisheadandgroaninganddisplayingeverysignofgrief.
“However,thepolicecameatlast.TheywentupstairswiththemanagerandMr.Sanders.Latertheysentdownforme.Iwentup.TheInspectorwasthere,sittingatatablewriting.Hewasanintelligent-lookingmanandIlikedhim.
“‘MissJaneMarple?’hesaid.
“‘Yes.’
“‘Iunderstand,Madam,thatyouwerepresentwhenthebodyofthedeceasedwasfound?’
“IsaidIwasandIdescribedexactlywhathadoccurred.Ithinkitwasarelieftothepoormantofindsomeonewhocouldanswerhisquestionscoherently,havingpreviouslyhadtodealwithSandersandEmilyTrollope,who,Igather,wascompletelydemoralized—shewouldbe,thesillycreature!Iremembermydearmotherteachingmethatagentlewomanshouldalwaysbeabletocontrolherselfinpublic,howevermuchshemaygivewayinprivate.”
“Anadmirablemaxim,”saidSirHenrygravely.
“WhenIhadfinishedtheInspectorsaid:
“‘Thankyou,Madam.NowI’mafraidImustaskyoujusttolookatthebodyoncemore.Isthatexactlythepositioninwhichitwaslyingwhenyouenteredtheroom?Ithasn’tbeenmovedinanyway?’
“IexplainedthatIhadpreventedMr.Sandersfromdoingso,andtheInspectornoddedapproval.
“‘Thegentlemanseemsterriblyupset,’heremarked.
“‘Heseemsso—yes,’Ireplied.
“Idon’tthinkIputanyspecialemphasisonthe‘seems,’buttheInspectorlookedatmeratherkeenly.
“‘Sowecantakeitthatthebodyisexactlyasitwaswhenfound?’hesaid
“‘Exceptforthehat,yes,’Ireplied.
“TheInspectorlookedupsharply.
“‘Whatdoyoumean—thehat?’
“IexplainedthatthehathadbeenonpoorGladys’shead,whereasnowitwaslyingbesideher.Ithought,ofcourse,thatthepolicehaddonethis.TheInspector,however,denieditemphatically.Nothinghad,asyet,beenmovedortouched.Hestoodlookingdownatthatpoorpronefigurewithapuzzledfrown.Gladyswasdressedinheroutdoorclothes—abigdark-redtweedcoatwithagreyfurcollar.Thehat,acheapaffairofredfelt,layjustbyherhead.
“TheInspectorstoodforsomeminutesinsilence,frowningtohimself.Thenanideastruckhim.
“‘Canyou,byanychance,remember,Madam,whethertherewereearringsintheears,orwhetherthedeceasedhabituallyworeearrings?’
“NowfortunatelyIaminthehabitofobservingclosely.Irememberedthattherehadbeenaglintofpearlsjustbelowthehatbrim,thoughIhadpaidnoparticularnoticetoitatthetime.Iwasabletoanswerhisfirstquestionintheaffirmative.
“‘Thenthatsettlesit.Thelady’sjewelcasewasrifled—notthatshehadanythingmuchofvalue,Iunderstand—andtheringsweretakenfromherfingers.Themurderermusthaveforgottentheearrings,andcomebackforthemafterthemurderwasdiscovered.Acoolcustomer!Orperhaps—’Hestaredroundtheroomandsaidslowly,‘Hemayhavebeenconcealedhereinthisroom—allthetime.’
“ButInegativedthatidea.Imyself,Iexplained,hadlookedunderthebed.Andthemanagerhadopenedthedoorsofthewardrobe.Therewasnowhereelsewhereamancouldhide.Itistruethehatcupboardwaslockedinthemiddleofthewardrobe,butasthatwasonlyashallowaffairwithshelves,noonecouldhavebeenconcealedthere.
“TheInspectornoddedhisheadslowlywhilstIexplainedallthis.
“‘I’lltakeyourwordforit,Madam,’hesaid.‘Inthatcase,asIsaidbefore,hemusthavecomeback.Averycoolcustomer.’
“‘Butthemanagerlockedthedoorandtookthekey!’
“‘That’snothing.Thebalconyandthefireescape—that’sthewaythethiefcame.Why,aslikelyasnot,youactuallydisturbedhimatwork.Heslipsoutofthewindow,andwhenyou’veallgone,backhecomesandgoesonwithhisbusiness.’
“‘Youaresure,’Isaid,‘thattherewasathief?’
“Hesaiddrily:
“‘Well,itlookslikeit,doesn’tit?’
“Butsomethinginhistonesatisfiedme.Ifeltthathewouldn’ttakeMr.Sandersintheroleofthebereavedwidowertooseriously.
“Yousee,Iadmititfrankly.IwasabsolutelyundertheopinionofwhatIbelieveourneighbours,theFrench,calltheidéefixe.Iknewthatthatman,Sanders,intendedhiswifetodie.WhatIdidn’tallowforwasthatstrangeandfantasticthing,coincidence.MyviewsaboutMr.Sanderswere—Iwassureofit—absolutelyrightandtrue.Themanwasascoundrel.Butalthoughhishypocriticalassumptionsofgriefdidn’tdeceivemeforaminute,Idorememberfeelingatthetimethathissurpriseandbewildermentweremarvellouslywelldone.Theyseemedabsolutelynatural—ifyouknowwhatImean.ImustadmitthataftermyconversationwiththeInspector,acuriousfeelingofdoubtcreptoverme.BecauseifSandershaddonethisdreadfulthing,Icouldn’timagineanyconceivablereasonwhyheshouldcreepbackbymeansofthefireescapeandtaketheearringsfromhiswife’sears.Itwouldn’thavebeenasensiblethingtodo,andSanderswassuchaverysensibleman—that’sjustwhyIalwaysfelthewassodangerous.”
MissMarplelookedroundatheraudience.
“Yousee,perhaps,whatIamcomingto?Itis,sooften,theunexpectedthathappensinthisworld.Iwassosure,andthat,Ithink,waswhatblindedme.Theresultcameasashocktome.Foritwasproved,beyondanypossibledoubt,thatMr.Sanderscouldnotpossiblyhavecommittedthecrime….”
AsurprisedgaspcamefromMrs.Bantry.MissMarpleturnedtoher.
“Iknow,mydear,thatisn’twhatyouexpectedwhenIbeganthisstory.Itwasn’twhatIexpectedeither.Butfactsarefacts,andifoneisprovedtobewrong,onemustjustbehumbleaboutitandstartagain.ThatMr.SanderswasamurdereratheartIknew—andnothingeveroccurredtoupsetthatfirmconvictionofmine.
“Andnow,Iexpect,youwouldliketoheartheactualfactsthemselves.Mrs.Sanders,asyouknow,spenttheafternoonplayingbridgewithsomefriends,theMortimers.Sheleftthemataboutaquarterpastsix.Fromherfriends’housetotheHydrowasaboutaquarterofanhour’swalk—lessifonehurried.Shemusthavecomeinthenaboutsixthirty.Noonesawhercomein,soshemusthaveenteredbythesidedoorandhurriedstraightuptoherroom.Thereshechanged(thefawncoatandskirtsheworetothebridgepartywerehangingupinthecupboard)andwasevidentlypreparingtogooutagain,whentheblowfell.Quitepossibly,theysay,sheneverevenknewwhostruckher.Thesandbag,Iunderstand,isaveryefficientweapon.Thatlooksasthoughtheattackerswereconcealedintheroom,possiblyinoneofthebigwardrobecupboards—theoneshedidn’topen.
“NowastothemovementsofMr.Sanders.Hewentout,asIhavesaid,ataboutfivethirty—oralittleafter.Hedidsomeshoppingatacoupleofshopsandataboutsixo’clockheenteredtheGrandSpaHotelwhereheencounteredtwofriends—thesamewithwhomhereturnedtotheHydrolater.Theyplayedbilliardsand,Igather,hadagoodmanywhiskiesandsodastogether.Thesetwomen(HitchcockandSpender,theirnameswere)wereactuallywithhimthewholetimefromsixo’clockonwards.TheywalkedbacktotheHydrowithhimandheonlyleftthemtocomeacrosstomeandMissTrollope.That,asItoldyou,wasaboutaquartertoseven—atwhichtimehiswifemusthavebeenalreadydead.
“ImusttellyouthatItalkedmyselftothesetwofriendsofhis.Ididnotlikethem.Theywereneitherpleasantnorgentlemanlymen,butIwasquitecertainofonething,thattheywerespeakingtheabsolutetruthwhentheysaidthatSandershadbeenthewholetimeintheircompany.
“Therewasjustoneotherlittlepointthatcameup.ItseemsthatwhilebridgewasgoingonMrs.Sanderswascalledtothetelephone.AMr.Littleworthwantedtospeaktoher.Sheseemedbothexcitedandpleasedaboutsomething—andincidentallymadeoneortwobadmistakes.Sheleftratherearlierthantheyhadexpectedhertodo.
“Mr.SanderswasaskedwhetherheknewthenameofLittle-worthasbeingoneofhiswife’sfriends,buthedeclaredhehadneverheardofanyoneofthatname.Andtomethatseemsborneoutbyhiswife’sattitude—shetoo,didnotseemtoknowthenameofLittleworth.Neverthelessshecamebackfromthetelephonesmilingandblushing,soitlooksasthoughwhoeveritwasdidnotgivehisrealname,andthatinitselfhasasuspiciousaspect,doesitnot?
“Anyway,thatistheproblemthatwasleft.Theburglarstory,whichseemsunlikely—orthealternativetheorythatMrs.Sanderswaspreparingtogooutandmeetsomebody.Didthatsomebodycometoherroombymeansofthefireescape?Wasthereaquarrel?Ordidhetreacherouslyattackher?”
MissMarplestopped.
“Well?”saidSirHenry.“Whatistheanswer?”
“Iwonderedifanyofyoucouldguess.”
“I’mnevergoodatguessing,”saidMrs.Bantry.“ItseemsapitythatSandershadsuchawonderfulalibi;butifitsatisfiedyouitmusthavebeenallright.”
JaneHeliermovedherbeautifulheadandaskedaquestion.
“Why,”shesaid,“wasthehatcupboardlocked?”
“Howverycleverofyou,mydear,”saidMissMarple,beaming.“That’sjustwhatIwonderedmyself.Thoughtheexplanationwasquitesimple.InitwereapairofembroideredslippersandsomepockethandkerchiefsthatthepoorgirlwasembroideringforherhusbandforChristmas.That’swhyshelockedthecupboard.Thekeywasfoundinherhandbag.”
“Oh!”saidJane.“Thenitisn’tveryinterestingafterall.”
“Oh!butitis,”saidMissMarple.“It’sjusttheonereallyinterestingthing—thethingthatmadeallthemurderer’splansgowrong.”
Everyonestaredattheoldlady.
“Ididn’tseeitmyselffortwodays,”saidMissMarple.“Ipuzzledandpuzzled—andthensuddenlythereitwas,allclear.IwenttotheInspectorandaskedhimtotrysomethingandhedid.”
“Whatdidyouaskhimtotry?”
“Iaskedhimtofitthathatonthepoorgirl’shead—andofcoursehecouldn’t.Itwouldn’tgoon.Itwasn’therhat,yousee.”
Mrs.Bantrystared.
“Butitwasonherheadtobeginwith?”
“Notonherhead—”
MissMarplestoppedamomenttoletherwordssinkin,andthenwenton.
“WetookitforgrantedthatitwaspoorGladys’sbodythere;butweneverlookedattheface.Shewasfacedownwards,remember,andthehathideverything.”
“Butshewaskilled?”
“Yes,later.Atthemomentthatweweretelephoningtothepolice,GladysSanderswasaliveandwell.”
“Youmeanitwassomeonepretendingtobeher?Butsurelywhenyoutouchedher—”
“Itwasadeadbody,rightenough,”saidMissMarplegravely.
“But,dashitall,”saidColonelBantry,“youcan’tgetholdofdeadbodiesrightandleft.Whatdidtheydowiththe—thefirstcorpseafterwards?”
“Heputitback,”saidMissMarple.“Itwasawickedidea—butaverycleverone.Itwasourtalkinthedrawingroomthatputitintohishead.ThebodyofpoorMary,thehousemaid—whynotuseit?Remember,theSanders’roomwasupamongsttheservants’quarters.Mary’sroomwastwodoorsoff.Theundertakerswouldn’tcometillafterdark—hecountedonthat.Hecarriedthebodyalongthebalcony(itwasdarkatfive),dresseditinoneofhiswife’sdressesandherbigredcoat.Andthenhefoundthehatcupboardlocked!Therewasonlyonethingtobedone,hefetchedoneofthepoorgirl’sownhats.Noonewouldnotice.Heputthesandbagdownbesideher.Thenhewentofftoestablishhisalibi.
“Hetelephonedtohiswife—callinghimselfMr.Littleworth.Idon’tknowwhathesaidtoher—shewasacredulousgirl,asIsaidjustnow.ButhegothertoleavethebridgepartyearlyandnottogobacktotheHydro,andarrangedwithhertomeethiminthegroundsoftheHydronearthefireescapeatseveno’clock.Heprobablytoldherhehadsomesurpriseforher.
“HereturnstotheHydrowithhisfriendsandarrangesthatMissTrollopeandIshalldiscoverthecrimewithhim.Heevenpretendstoturnthebodyover—andIstophim!Thenthepolicearesentfor,andhestaggersoutintothegrounds.
“Nobodyaskedhimforanalibiafterthecrime.Hemeetshiswife,takesherupthefireescape,theyentertheirroom.Perhapshehasalreadytoldhersomestoryaboutthebody.Shestoopsoverit,andhepicksuphissandbagandstrikes…Oh,dear!Itmakesmesicktothinkof,evennow!Thenquicklyhestripsoffhercoatandskirt,hangsthemup,anddressesherintheclothesfromtheotherbody.
“Butthehatwon’tgoon.Mary’sheadisshingled—GladysSanders,asIsay,hadagreatbunofhair.Heisforcedtoleaveitbesidethebodyandhopenoonewillnotice.ThenhecarriespoorMary’sbodybacktoherownroomandarrangesitdecorouslyoncemore.”
“Itseemsincredible,”saidDr.Lloyd.“Theriskshetook.Thepolicemighthavearrivedtoosoon.”
“Yourememberthelinewasoutoforder,”saidMissMarple.“Thatwasapieceofhiswork.Hecouldn’taffordtohavethepoliceonthespottoosoon.Whentheydidcome,theyspentsometimeinthemanager’sofficebeforegoinguptothebedroom.Thatwastheweakestpoint—thechancethatsomeonemightnoticethedifferencebetweenabodythathadbeendeadtwohoursandonethathadbeendeadjustoverhalfanhour;buthecountedonthefactthatthepeoplewhofirstdiscoveredthecrimewouldhavenoexpertknowledge.”
Dr.Lloydnodded.
“Thecrimewouldbesupposedtohavebeencommittedaboutaquartertosevenorthereabouts,Isuppose,”hesaid.“Itwasactuallycommittedatsevenorafewminutesafter.Whenthepolicesurgeonexaminedthebodyitwouldbeabouthalfpastsevenattheearliest.Hecouldn’tpossiblytell.”
“Iamthepersonwhoshouldhaveknown,”saidMissMarple.“Ifeltthepoorgirl’shandanditwasicycold.YetashorttimelatertheInspectorspokeasthoughthemurdermusthavebeencommittedjustbeforewearrived—andIsawnothing!”
“Ithinkyousawagooddeal,MissMarple,”saidSirHenry.“Thecasewasbeforemytime.Idon’tevenrememberhearingofit.Whathappened?”
“Sanderswashanged,”saidMissMarplecrisply.“Andagoodjobtoo.Ihaveneverregrettedmypartinbringingthatmantojustice.I’venopatiencewithmodernhumanitarianscruplesaboutcapitalpunishment.”
Hersternfacesoftened.
“ButIhaveoftenreproachedmyselfbitterlywithfailingtosavethelifeofthatpoorgirl.Butwhowouldhavelistenedtoanoldwomanjumpingtoconclusions?Well,well—whoknows?Perhapsitwasbetterforhertodiewhilelifewasstillhappythanitwouldhavebeenforhertoliveon,unhappyanddisillusioned,inaworldthatwouldhaveseemedsuddenlyhorrible.Shelovedthatscoundrelandtrustedhim.Sheneverfoundhimout.”
“Well,then,”saidJaneHelier,“shewasallright.Quiteallright.Iwish—”shestopped.
MissMarplelookedatthefamous,thebeautiful,thesuccessfulJaneHelierandnoddedherheadgently.
“Isee,mydear,”shesaidverygently.“Isee.”
Eleven
THEHERBOFDEATH
“Nowthen,Mrs.B.,”saidSirHenryClitheringencouragingly.
Mrs.Bantry,hishostess,lookedathimincoldreproof.
“I’vetoldyoubeforethatIwillnotbecalledMrs.B.It’snotdignified.”
“Scheherazade,then.”
“AndevenlessamISche—what’shername!Inevercantellastoryproperly,askArthurifyoudon’tbelieveme.”
“You’requitegoodatthefacts,Dolly,”saidColonelBantry,“butpoorattheembroidery.”
“That’sjustit,”saidMrs.Bantry.Sheflappedthebulbcatalogueshewasholdingonthetableinfrontofher.“I’vebeenlisteningtoyouallandIdon’tknowhowyoudoit.‘Hesaid,shesaid,youwondered,theythought,everyoneimplied’—well,Ijustcouldn’tandthereitis!AndbesidesIdon’tknowanythingtotellastoryabout.”
“Wecan’tbelievethat,Mrs.Bantry,”saidDr.Lloyd.Heshookhisgreyheadinmockingdisbelief.
OldMissMarplesaidinhergentlevoice:“Surelydear—”
Mrs.Bantrycontinuedobstinatelytoshakeherhead.
“Youdon’tknowhowbanalmylifeis.Whatwiththeservantsandthedifficultiesofgettingscullerymaids,andjustgoingtotownforclothes,anddentists,andAscot(whichArthurhates)andthenthegarden—”
“Ah!”saidDr.Lloyd.“Thegarden.Weallknowwhereyourheartlies,Mrs.Bantry.”
“Itmustbenicetohaveagarden,”saidJaneHelier,thebeautifulyoungactress.“Thatis,ifyouhadn’tgottodig,ortogetyourhandsmessedup.I’meversofondofflowers.”
“Thegarden,”saidSirHenry.“Can’twetakethatasastartingpoint?Come,Mrs.B.Thepoisonedbulb,thedeadlydaffodils,theherbofdeath!”
“Nowit’soddyoursayingthat,”saidMrs.Bantry.“You’vejustremindedme.Arthur,doyourememberthatbusinessatClodderhamCourt?Youknow.OldSirAmbroseBercy.Doyourememberwhatacourtlycharmingoldmanwethoughthim?”
“Why,ofcourse.Yes,thatwasastrangebusiness.Goahead,Dolly.”
“You’dbettertellit,dear.”
“Nonsense.Goahead.Mustpaddleyourowncanoe.Ididmybitjustnow.”
Mrs.Bantrydrewadeepbreath.Sheclaspedherhandsandherfaceregisteredcompletementalanguish.Shespokerapidlyandfluently.
“Well,there’sreallynotmuchtotell.TheHerbofDeath—that’swhatputitintomyhead,thoughinmyownmindIcallitsageandonions.”
“Sageandonions?”askedDr.Lloyd.
Mrs.Bantrynodded.
“Thatwashowithappenedyousee,”sheexplained.“Wewerestaying,ArthurandI,withSirAmbroseBercyatClodderhamCourt,andoneday,bymistake(thoughverystupidly,I’vealwaysthought)alotoffoxgloveleaveswerepickedwiththesage.Theducksfordinnerthatnightwerestuffedwithitandeveryonewasveryill,andonepoorgirl—SirAmbrose’sward—diedofit.”
Shestopped.
“Dear,dear,”saidMissMarple,“howverytragic.”
“Wasn’tit?”
“Well,”saidSirHenry,“whatnext?”
“Thereisn’tanynext,”saidMrs.Bantry,“that’sall.”
Everyonegasped.Thoughwarnedbeforehand,theyhadnotexpectedquitesuchbrevityasthis.
“But,mydearlady,”remonstratedSirHenry,“itcan’tbeall.Whatyouhaverelatedisatragicoccurrence,butnotinanysenseofthewordaproblem.”
“Well,ofcoursethere’ssomemore,”saidMrs.Bantry.“ButifIweretotellyouit,you’dknowwhatitwas.”
Shelookeddefiantlyroundtheassemblyandsaidplaintively:
“ItoldyouIcouldn’tdressthingsupandmakeitsoundproperlylikeastoryoughttodo.”
“Ahha!”saidSirHenry.Hesatupinhischairandadjustedaneyeglass.“Really,youknow,Scheherazade,thisismostrefreshing.Ouringenuityischallenged.I’mnotsosureyouhaven’tdoneitonpurpose—tostimulateourcuriosity.Afewbriskroundsof‘TwentyQuestions’isindicated,Ithink.MissMarple,willyoubegin?”
“I’dliketoknowsomethingaboutthecook,”saidMissMarple.“Shemusthavebeenaverystupidwoman,orelseveryinexperienced.”
“Shewasjustverystupid,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Shecriedagreatdealafterwardsandsaidtheleaveshadbeenpickedandbroughtintoherassage,andhowwasshetoknow?”
“Notonewhothoughtforherself,”saidMissMarple.
“Probablyanelderlywomanand,Idaresay,averygoodcook?”
“Oh!excellent,”saidMrs.Bantry.
“Yourturn,MissHelier,”saidSirHenry.
“Oh!Youmean—toaskaquestion?”TherewasapausewhileJanepondered.Finallyshesaidhelplessly,“Really—Idon’tknowwhattoask.”
HerbeautifuleyeslookedappealinglyatSirHenry.
“Whynotdramatispersonae,MissHelier?”hesuggestedsmiling.
Janestilllookedpuzzled.
“Charactersinorderoftheirappearance,”saidSirHenrygently.
“Oh,yes,”saidJane.“That’sagoodidea.”
Mrs.Bantrybeganbrisklytotickpeopleoffonherfingers.
“SirAmbrose—SylviaKeene(that’sthegirlwhodied)—afriendofherswhowasstayingthere,MaudWye,oneofthosedarkuglygirlswhomanagetomakeaneffortsomehow—Ineverknowhowtheydoit.ThentherewasaMr.CurlewhohadcomedowntodiscussbookswithSirAmbrose—youknow,rarebooks—queeroldthingsinLatin—allmustyparchment.TherewasJerryLorimer—hewasakindofnextdoorneighbour.Hisplace,Fairlies,joinedSirAmbrose’sestate.AndtherewasMrs.Carpenter,oneofthosemiddle-agedpussieswhoalwaysseemtomanagetodigthemselvesincomfortablysomewhere.ShewasbywayofbeingdamedecompagnietoSylvia,Isuppose.”
“Ifitismyturn,”saidSirHenry,“andIsupposeitis,asI’msittingnexttoMissHelier,Iwantagooddeal.Iwantashortverbalportrait,please,Mrs.Bantry,ofalltheforegoing.”
“Oh!”Mrs.Bantryhesitated.
“SirAmbrosenow,”continuedSirHenry.“Startwithhim.Whatwashelike?”
“Oh!hewasaverydistinguished-lookingoldman—andnotsoveryoldreally—notmorethansixty,Isuppose.Buthewasverydelicate—hehadaweakheart,couldnevergoupstairs—hehadtohavealiftputin,andsothatmadehimseemolderthanhewas.Verycharmingmanners—courtly—that’sthewordthatdescribeshimbest.Youneversawhimruffledorupset.Hehadbeautifulwhitehairandaparticularlycharmingvoice.”
“Good,”saidSirHenry.“IseeSirAmbrose.NowthegirlSylvia—whatdidyousayhernamewas?”
“SylviaKeene.Shewaspretty—reallyverypretty.Fair-haired,youknow,andalovelyskin.Not,perhaps,veryclever.Infact,ratherstupid.”
“Oh!come,Dolly,”protestedherhusband.
“Arthur,ofcourse,wouldn’tthinkso,”saidMrs.Bantrydrily.“Butshewasstupid—shereallyneversaidanythingworthlisteningto.”
“OneofthemostgracefulcreaturesIeversaw,”saidColonelBantrywarmly.“Seeherplayingtennis—charming,simplycharming.Andshewasfulloffun—mostamusinglittlething.Andsuchaprettywaywithher.Ibettheyoungfellowsallthoughtso.”
“That’sjustwhereyou’rewrong,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Youth,assuch,hasnocharmsforyoungmennowadays.It’sonlyoldbufferslikeyou,Arthur,whositmaunderingonaboutyounggirls.”
“Beingyoung’snogood,”saidJane.“You’vegottohaveSA.”
“What,”saidMissMarple,“isSA?”
“Sexappeal,”saidJane.
“Ah!yes,”saidMissMarple.“Whatinmydaytheyusedtocall‘havingthecomehitherinyoureye.’”
“Notabaddescription,”saidSirHenry.“Thedamedecompagnieyoudescribed,Ithink,asapussy,Mrs.Bantry?”
“Ididn’tmeanacat,youknow,”saidMrs.Bantry.“It’squitedifferent.Justabigsoftwhitepurryperson.Alwaysverysweet.That’swhatAdelaideCarpenterwaslike.”
“Whatsortofagedwoman?”
“Oh!Ishouldsayfortyish.She’dbeentheresometime—eversinceSylviawaseleven,Ibelieve.Averytactfulperson.Oneofthosewidowsleftinunfortunatecircumstanceswithplentyofaristocraticrelations,butnoreadycash.Ididn’tlikehermyself—butthenIneverdolikepeoplewithverywhitelonghands.AndIdon’tlikepussies.”
“Mr.Curle?”
“Oh!oneofthoseelderlystoopingmen.Therearesomanyofthemabout,you’dhardlyknowonefromtheother.Heshowedenthusiasmwhentalkingabouthismustybooks,butnotatanyothertime.Idon’tthinkSirAmbroseknewhimverywell.”
“AndJerrynextdoor?”
“Areallycharmingboy.HewasengagedtoSylvia.That’swhatmadeitsosad.”
“NowIwonder—”beganMissMarple,andthenstopped.
“What?”
“Nothing,dear.”
SirHenrylookedattheoldladycuriously.Thenhesaidthoughtfully:
“Sothisyoungcouplewereengaged.Hadtheybeenengagedlong?”
“Aboutayear.SirAmbrosehadopposedtheengagementonthepleathatSylviawastooyoung.Butafterayear’sengagementhehadgiveninandthemarriagewastohavetakenplacequitesoon.”
“Ah!Hadtheyoungladyanyproperty?”
“Nexttonothing—abarehundredortwoayear.”
“Noratinthathole,Clithering,”saidColonelBantry,andlaughed.
“It’sthedoctor’sturntoaskaquestion,”saidSirHenry.“Istanddown.”
“Mycuriosityismainlyprofessional,”saidDr.Lloyd.“Ishouldliketoknowwhatmedicalevidencewasgivenattheinquest—thatis,ifourhostessremembers,or,indeed,ifsheknows.”
“Iknowroughly,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Itwaspoisoningbydigitalin—isthatright?”
Dr.Lloydnodded.
“Theactiveprincipleofthefoxglove—digitalis—actsontheheart.Indeed,itisaveryvaluabledruginsomeformsofhearttrouble.Averycuriouscasealtogther.Iwouldneverhavebelievedthateatingapreparationoffoxgloveleavescouldpossiblyresultfatally.Theseideasofeatingpoisonousleavesandberriesareverymuchexaggerated.Veryfewpeoplerealizethatthevitalprinciple,oralkaloid,hastobeextractedwithmuchcareandpreparation.”
“Mrs.MacArthursentsomespecialbulbsroundtoMrs.Toomietheotherday,”saidMissMarple.“AndMrs.Toomie’scookmistookthemforonions,andalltheToomieswereveryillindeed.”
“Buttheydidn’tdieofit,”saidDr.Lloyd.
“No.Theydidn’tdieofit,”admittedMissMarple.
“AgirlIknewdiedofptomainepoisoning,”saidJaneHelier.
“Wemustgetonwithinvestigatingthecrime,”saidSirHenry.
“Crime?”saidJane,startled.“Ithoughtitwasanaccident.”
“Ifitwereanaccident,”saidSirHenrygently,“IdonotthinkMrs.Bantrywouldhavetoldusthisstory.No,asIreadit,thiswasanaccidentonlyinappearance—behinditissomethingmoresinister.Irememberacase—variousguestsinahousepartywerechattingafterdinner.Thewallswereadornedwithallkindsofold-fashionedweapons.Entirelyasajokeoneofthepartyseizedanancienthorsepistolandpointeditatanotherman,pretendingtofireit.Thepistolwasloadedandwentoff,killingtheman.Wehadtoascertaininthatcase,first,whohadsecretlypreparedandloadedthatpistol,andsecondlywhohadsoledanddirectedtheconversationthatthatfinalbitofhorseplayresulted—forthemanwhohadfiredthepistolwasentirelyinnocent!
“Itseemstomewehavemuchthesameproblemhere.Thosedigitalinleavesweredeliberatelymixedwiththesage,knowingwhattheresultwouldbe.Sinceweexoneratethecook—wedoexoneratethecook,don’twe?—thequestionarises:Whopickedtheleavesanddeliveredthemtothekitchen?”
“That’seasilyanswered,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Atleastthelastpartofitis.ItwasSylviaherselfwhotooktheleavestothekitchen.Itwaspartofherdailyjobtogatherthingslikesaladorherbs,bunchesofyoungcarrots—allthesortofthingsthatgardenersneverpickright.Theyhategivingyouanythingyoungandtender—theywaitforthemtobefinespecimens.SylviaandMrs.Carpenterusedtoseetoalotofthesethingsthemselves.Andtherewasfoxgloveactuallygrowingallamongstthesageinonecorner,sothemistakewasquitenatural.”
“ButdidSylviaactuallypickthemherself?”
“That,nobodyeverknew.Itwasassumedso.”
“Assumptions,”saidSirHenry,“aredangerousthings.”
“ButIdoknowthatMrs.Carpenterdidn’tpickthem,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Because,asithappened,shewaswalkingwithmeontheterracethatmorning.Wewentoutthereafterbreakfast.Itwasunusuallyniceandwarmforearlyspring.Sylviawentalonedownintothegarden,butlaterIsawherwalkingarm-in-armwithMaudWye.”
“Sotheyweregreatfriends,werethey?”askedMissMarple.
“Yes,”saidMrs.Bantry.Sheseemedasthoughabouttosaysomething,butdidnotdoso.
“Hadshebeenstayingtherelong?”askedMissMarple.
“Aboutafortnight,”saidMrs.Bantry
Therewasanoteoftroubleinhervoice.
“Youdidn’tlikeMissWye?”suggestedSirHenry.
“Idid.That’sjustit.Idid.”
Thetroubleinhervoicehadgrowntodistress.
“You’rekeepingsomethingback,Mrs.Bantry,”saidSirHenryaccusingly.
“Iwonderedjustnow,”saidMissMarple,“butIdidn’tliketogoon.”
“Whendidyouwonder?”
“Whenyousaidthattheyoungpeoplewereengaged.Yousaidthatthatwaswhatmadeitsosad.But,ifyouknowwhatImean,yourvoicedidn’tsoundrightwhenyousaidit—notconvincing,youknow.”
“Whatadreadfulpersonyouare,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Youalwaysseemtoknow.Yes,Iwasthinkingofsomething.ButIdon’treallyknowwhetherIoughttosayitornot.”
“Youmustsayit,”saidSirHenry.“Whateveryourscruples,itmustn’tbekeptback.”
“Well,itwasjustthis,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Oneevening—infacttheveryeveningbeforethetragedy—Ihappenedtogooutontheterracebeforedinner.Thewindowinthedrawingroomwasopen.AndasitchancedIsawJerryLorimerandMaudWye.Hewas—well—kissingher.OfcourseIdidn’tknowwhetheritwasjustasortofchanceaffair,orwhether—well,Imean,onecan’ttell.IknewSirAmbroseneverhadreallylikedJerryLorimer—soperhapsheknewhewasthatkindofyoungman.ButonethingIamsureof:thatgirl,MaudWye,wasreallyfondofhim.You’donlytoseeherlookingathimwhenshewasoffguard.AndIthink,too,theywerereallybettersuitedthanheandSylviawere.”
“Iamgoingtoaskaquestionquickly,beforeMissMarplecan,”saidSirHenry.“Iwanttoknowwhether,afterthetragedy,JerryLorimermarriedMaudWye?”
“Yes,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Hedid.Sixmonthsafterwards.”
“Oh!Scheherezade,Scheherezade,”saidSirHenry.“Tothinkofthewayyoutoldusthisstoryatfirst!Barebonesindeed—andtothinkoftheamountoffleshwe’refindingonthemnow.”
“Don’tspeaksoghoulishly,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Anddon’tusethewordflesh.Vegetariansalwaysdo.Theysay,‘Inevereatflesh’inawaythatputsyourightoffyourlittlebeefsteak.Mr.Curlewasavegetarian.Heusedtoeatsomepeculiarstuffthatlookedlikebranforbreakfast.Thoseelderlystoopingmenwithbeardsareoftenfaddy.Theyhavepatentkindsofunderwear,too.”
“Whatonearth,Dolly,”saidherhusband,“doyouknowaboutMr.Curle’sunderwear?”
“Nothing,”saidMrs.Bantrywithdignity.“Iwasjustmakingaguess.”
“I’llamendmyformerstatement,”saidSirHenry.“I’llsayinsteadthatthedramatispersonaeinyourproblemareveryinteresting.I’mbeginningtoseethemall—eh,MissMarple?”
“Humannatureisalwaysinteresting,SirHenry.Andit’scurioustoseehowcertaintypesalwaystendtoactinexactlythesameway.”
“Twowomenandaman,”saidSirHenry.“Theoldeternalhumantriangle.Isthatthebaseofourproblemhere?Iratherfancyitis.”
Dr.Lloydclearedhisthroat.
“I’vebeenthinking,”hesaidratherdiffidently.“Doyousay,Mrs.Bantry,thatyouyourselfwereill?”
“WasInot!SowasArthur!Sowaseveryone!”
“That’sjustit—everyone,”saidthedoctor.“YouseewhatImean?InSirHenry’sstorywhichhetoldusjustnow,onemanshotanother—hedidn’thavetoshootthewholeroomfull.”
“Idon’tunderstand,”saidJane.“Whoshotwho?”
“I’msayingthatwhoeverplannedthisthingwentaboutitverycuriously,eitherwithablindbeliefinchance,orelsewithanabsolutelyrecklessdisregardforhumanlife.Icanhardlybelievethereisamancapableofdeliberatelypoisoningeightpeoplewiththeobjectofremovingoneamongstthem.”
“Iseeyourpoint,”saidSirHenry,thoughtfully.“IconfessIoughttohavethoughtofthat.”
“Andmightn’thehavepoisonedhimselftoo?”askedJane.
“Wasanyoneabsentfromdinnerthatnight?”askedMissMarple.
Mrs.Bantryshookherhead.
“Everyonewasthere.”
“ExceptMr.Lorimer,Isuppose,mydear.Hewasn’tstayinginthehouse,washe?”
“No;buthewasdiningtherethatevening,”saidMrs.Bantry.
“Oh!”saidMissMarpleinachangedvoice.“Thatmakesallthedifferenceintheworld.”
Shefrownedvexedlytoherself.
“I’vebeenverystupid,”shemurmured.“Verystupidindeed.”
“Iconfessyourpointworriesme,Lloyd,”saidSirHenry.
“Howensurethatthegirl,andthegirlonly,shouldgetafataldose?”
“Youcan’t,”saidthedoctor.“ThatbringsmetothepointI’mgoingtomake.Supposingthegirlwasnottheintendedvictimafterall?”
“What?”
“Inallcasesoffoodpoisoning,theresultisveryuncertain.Severalpeopleshareadish.Whathappens?Oneortwoareslightlyill,twomore,say,areseriouslyindisposed,onedies.That’sthewayofit—there’snocertaintyanywhere.Buttherearecaseswhereanotherfactormightenterin.Digitalinisadrugthatactsdirectlyontheheart—asI’vetoldyouit’sprescribedincertaincases.Now,therewasonepersoninthathousewhosufferedfromaheartcomplaint.Supposehewasthevictimselected?Whatwouldnotbefataltotherestwouldbefataltohim—orsothemurderermightreasonablysuppose.ThatthethingturnedoutdifferentlyisonlyaproofofwhatIwassayingjustnow—theuncertaintyandunreliabilityoftheeffectsofdrugsonhumanbeings.”
“SirAmbrose,”saidSirHenry,“youthinkhewasthepersonaimedat?Yes,yes—andthegirl’sdeathwasamistake.”
“Whogothismoneyafterhewasdead?”askedJane.
“Averysoundquestion,MissHelier.Oneofthefirstwealwaysaskinmylateprofession,”saidSirHenry.
“SirAmbrosehadason,”saidMrs.Bantryslowly.“Hehadquarrelledwithhimmanyyearspreviously.Theboywaswild,Ibelieve.Still,itwasnotinSirAmbrose’spowertodisinherithim—ClodderhamCourtwasentailed.MartinBercysucceededtothetitleandestate.Therewas,however,agooddealofotherpropertythatSirAmbrosecouldleaveashechose,andthathelefttohiswardSylvia.IknowthisbecauseSirAmbrosediedlessthanayearaftertheeventsIamtellingyouof,andhehadnottroubledtomakeanewwillafterSylvia’sdeath.IthinkthemoneywenttotheCrown—orperhapsitwastohissonasnextofkin—Idon’treallyremember.”
“Soitwasonlytotheinterestofasonwhowasn’tthereandthegirlwhodiedherselftomakeawaywithhim,”saidSirHenrythoughtfully.“Thatdoesn’tseemverypromising.”
“Didn’ttheotherwomangetanything?”askedJane.“TheoneMrs.BantrycallsthePussywoman.”
“Shewasn’tmentionedinthewill,”saidMrs.Bantry.
“MissMarple,you’renotlistening,”saidSirHenry.“You’resomewherefaraway.”
“IwasthinkingofoldMr.Badger,thechemist,”saidMissMarple.“Hehadaveryyounghousekeeper—youngenoughtobenotonlyhisdaughter,buthisgranddaughter.Notawordtoanyone,andhisfamily,alotofnephewsandnieces,fullofexpectations.Andwhenhedied,wouldyoubelieveit,he’dbeensecretlymarriedtoherfortwoyears?OfcourseMr.Badgerwasachemist,andaveryrude,commonoldmanaswell,andSirAmbroseBercywasaverycourtlygentleman,soMrs.Bantrysays,butforallthathumannatureismuchthesameeverywhere.”
Therewasapause.SirHenrylookedveryhardatMissMarplewholookedbackathimwithgentlyquizzicalblueeyes.JaneHelierbrokethesilence.
“WasthisMrs.Carpentergood-looking?”sheasked.
“Yes,inaveryquietway.Nothingstartling.”
“Shehadaverysympatheticvoice,”saidColonelBantry.
“Purring—that’swhatIcallit,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Purring!”
“You’llbecalledacatyourselfoneofthesedays,Dolly.”
“Ilikebeingacatinmyhomecircle,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Idon’tmuchlikewomenanyway,andyouknowit.Ilikemenandflowers.”
“Excellenttaste,”saidSirHenry.“Especiallyinputtingmenfirst.”
“Thatwastact,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Well,now,whataboutmylittleproblem?I’vebeenquitefair,Ithink.Arthur,don’tyouthinkI’vebeenfair?”
“Yes,mydear.Idon’tthinkthere’llbeanyinquiryintotherunningbythestewardsoftheJockeyClub.”
“Firstboy,”saidMrs.Bantry,pointingafingeratSirHenry.
“I’mgoingtobelong-winded.Because,yousee,Ihaven’treallygotanyfeelingofcertaintyaboutthematter.First,SirAmbrose.Well,hewouldn’ttakesuchanoriginalmethodofcommittingsuicide—andontheotherhandhecertainlyhadnothingtogainbythedeathofhisward.ExitSirAmbrose.Mr.Curle.Nomotivefordeathofgirl.IfSirAmbrosewasintendedvictim,hemightpossiblyhavepurloinedararemanuscriptortwothatnooneelsewouldmiss.Verythinandmostunlikely.SoIthink,thatinspiteofMrs.Bantry’ssuspicionsastohisunderclothing,Mr.Curleiscleared.MissWye.MotivefordeathofSirAmbrose—none.MotivefordeathofSylviaprettystrong.ShewantedSylvia’syoungman,andwantedhimratherbadly—fromMrs.Bantry’saccount.ShewaswithSylviathatmorninginthegarden,sohadopportunitytopickleaves.No,wecan’tdismissMissWyesoeasily.YoungLorimer.He’sgotamotiveineithercase.Ifhegetsridofhissweetheart,hecanmarrytheothergirl.Stillitseemsabitdrastictokillher—what’sabrokenengagementthesedays?IfSirAmbrosedies,hewillmarryarichgirlinsteadofapoorone.Thatmightbeimportantornot—dependsonhisfinancialposition.IfIfindthathisestatewasheavilymortgagedandthatMrs.Bantryhasdeliberatelywithheldthatfactfromus,Ishallclaimafoul.NowMrs.Carpenter.Youknow,IhavesuspicionsofMrs.Carpenter.Thosewhitehands,foronething,andherexcellentalibiatthetimetheherbswerepicked—Ialwaysdistrustalibis.AndI’vegotanotherreasonforsuspectingherwhichIwillkeeptomyself.Still,onthewhole,ifI’vegottoplump,IshallplumpforMissMaudeWye,becausethere’smoreevidenceagainstherthananyoneelse.”
“Nextboy,”saidMrs.Bantry,andpointedatDr.Lloyd.
“Ithinkyou’rewrong,Clithering,instickingtothetheorythatthegirl’sdeathwasmeant.IamconvincedthatthemurdererintendedtodoawaywithSirAmbrose.Idon’tthinkthatyoungLorimerhadthenecessaryknowledge.IaminclinedtobelievethatMrs.Carpenterwastheguiltyparty.Shehadbeenalongtimewiththefamily,knewallaboutthestateofSirAmbrose’shealth,andcouldeasilyarrangeforthisgirlSylvia(who,yousaidyourself,wasratherstupid)topicktherightleaves.Motive,Iconfess,Idon’tsee;butIhazardtheguessthatSirAmbrosehadatonetimemadeawillinwhichshewasmentioned.That’sthebestIcando.”
Mrs.Bantry’spointingfingerwentontoJaneHelier.
“Idon’tknowwhattosay,”saidJane,“exceptthis:Whyshouldn’tthegirlherselfhavedoneit?Shetooktheleavesintothekitchenafterall.AndyousaySirAmbrosehadbeenstickingoutagainsthermarriage.Ifhedied,she’dgetthemoneyandbeabletomarryatonce.She’dknowjustasmuchaboutSirAmbrose’shealthasMrs.Carpenterwould.”
Mrs.Bantry’sfingercameslowlyroundtoMissMarple.
“Nowthen,SchoolMarm,”shesaid.
“SirHenryhasputitallveryclearly—veryclearlyindeed,”saidMissMarple.“AndDr.Lloydwassorightinwhathesaid.Betweenthemtheyseemtohavemadethingssoveryclear.OnlyIdon’tthinkDr.Lloydquiterealizedoneaspectofwhathesaid.Yousee,notbeingSirAmbrose’smedicaladviser,hecouldn’tknowjustwhatkindofhearttroubleSirAmbrosehad,couldhe?”
“Idon’tquiteseewhatyoumean,MissMarple,”saidDr.Lloyd.
“You’reassuming—aren’tyou?—thatSirAmbrosehadthekindofheartthatdigitalinwouldaffectadversely?Butthere’snothingtoprovethatthat’sso.Itmightbejusttheotherwayabout.”
“Theotherwayabout?”
“Yes,youdidsaythatitwasoftenprescribedforhearttrouble?”
“Eventhen,MissMarple,Idon’tseewhatthatleadsto?”
“Well,itwouldmeanthathewouldhavedigitalininhispossessionquitenaturally—withouthavingtoaccountforit.WhatIamtryingtosay(Ialwaysexpressmyselfsobadly)isthis:Supposingyouwantedtopoisonanyonewithafataldoseofdigitalin.Wouldn’tthesimplestandeasiestwaybetoarrangeforeveryonetobepoisoned—actuallybydigitalinleaves?Itwouldn’tbefatalinanyoneelse’scase,ofcourse,butnoonewouldbesurprisedatonevictimbecause,asDr.Lloydsaid,thesethingsaresouncertain.Noonewouldbelikelytoaskwhetherthegirlhadactuallyhadafataldoseofinfusionofdigitalisorsomethingofthatkind.Hemighthaveputitinacocktail,orinhercoffeeorevenmadeherdrinkitquitesimplyasatonic.”
“YoumeanSirAmbrosepoisonedhisward,thecharminggirlwhomheloved?”
“That’sjustit,”saidMissMarple.“LikeMr.Badgerandhisyounghousekeeper.Don’ttellmeit’sabsurdforamanofsixtytofallinlovewithagirloftwenty.Ithappenseveryday—andIdaresaywithanoldautocratlikeSirAmbrose,itmighttakehimqueerly.Thesethingsbecomeamadnesssometimes.Hecouldn’tbearthethoughtofhergettingmarried—didhisbesttoopposeit—andfailed.HismadjealousybecamesogreatthathepreferredkillinghertolettinghergotoyoungLorimer.Hemusthavethoughtofitsometimebeforehand,becausethatfoxgloveseedwouldhavetobesownamongthesage.He’dpickithimselfwhenthetimecame,andsendherintothekitchenwithit.It’shorribletothinkof,butIsupposewemusttakeasmercifulaviewofitaswecan.Gentlemenofthatagearesometimesverypeculiarindeedwhereyounggirlsareconcerned.Ourlastorganist—butthere,Imustn’ttalkscandal.”
“Mrs.Bantry,”saidSirHenry.“Isthisso?”
Mrs.Bantrynodded.
“Yes.I’dnoideaofit—neverdreamedofthethingbeinganythingbutanaccident.Then,afterSirAmbrose’sdeath,Igotaletter.Hehadleftdirectionstosendittome.Hetoldmethetruthinit.Idon’tknowwhy—butheandIalwaysgotonverywelltogether.”
Inthemomentarysilence,sheseemedtofeelanunspokencriticismandwentonhastily:
“YouthinkI’mbetrayingaconfidence—butthatisn’tso.I’vechangedallthenames.Hewasn’treallycalledSirAmbroseBercy.Didn’tyouseehowArthurstaredstupidlywhenIsaidthatnametohim?Hedidn’tunderstandatfirst.I’vechangedeverything.It’sliketheysayinmagazinesandinthebeginningofbooks:‘Allthecharactersinthisstoryarepurelyfictitious.’Youneverknowwhotheyreallyare.”
Twelve
THEAFFAIRATTHEBUNGALOW
“I’vethoughtofsomething,”saidJaneHelier.
Herbeautifulfacewaslitupwiththeconfidentsmileofachildexpectingapprobation.ItwasasmilesuchasmovedaudiencesnightlyinLondon,andwhichhadmadethefortunesofphotographers
“Ithappened,”shewentoncarefully,“toafriendofmine.”
Everyonemadeencouragingbutslightlyhypocriticalnoises.ColonelBantry,Mrs.Bantry,SirHenryClithering,Dr.LloydandoldMissMarplewereoneandallconvincedthatJane’s“friend”wasJaneherself.Shewouldhavebeenquiteincapableofrememberingortakinganinterestinanythingaffectinganyoneelse.
“Myfriend,”wentonJane,“(Iwon’tmentionhername)wasanactress—averywell-knownactress.”
Nooneexpressedsurprise.SirHenryClitheringthoughttohimself:“NowIwonderhowmanysentencesitwillbebeforesheforgetstokeepupthefiction,andsays‘I’insteadof‘She?’”
“Myfriendwasontourintheprovinces—thiswasayearortwoago.IsupposeI’dbetternotgivethenameoftheplace.ItwasariversidetownnotveryfarfromLondon.I’llcallit—”
Shepaused,herbrowsperplexedinthought.Theinventionofevenasimplenameappearedtobetoomuchforher.SirHenrycametotherescue.
“ShallwecallitRiverbury?”hesuggestedgravely.
“Oh,yes,thatwoulddosplendidly.Riverbury,I’llrememberthat.Well,asIsay,this—myfriend—wasatRiverburywithhercompany,andaverycuriousthinghappened.”
Shepuckeredherbrowsagain.
“It’sverydifficult,”shesaidplaintively,“tosayjustwhatyouwant.Onegetsthingsmixedupandtellsthewrongthingsfirst.”
“You’redoingitbeautifully,”saidDr.Lloydencouragingly.“Goon.”
“Well,thiscuriousthinghappened.Myfriendwassentfortothepolicestation.Andshewent.Itseemedtherehadbeenaburglaryatariversidebungalowandthey’darrestedayoungman,andhetoldaveryoddstory.Andsotheysentforher.
“She’dneverbeentoapolicestationbefore,buttheywereverynicetoher—veryniceindeed.”
“Theywouldbe,I’msure,”saidSirHenry.
“Thesergeant—Ithinkitwasasergeant—oritmayhavebeenaninspector—gaveherachairandexplainedthings,andofcourseIsawatoncethatitwassomemistake—”
“Aha,”thoughtSirHenry.“I.Hereweare.Ithoughtasmuch.”
“Myfriendsaidso,”continuedJane,serenelyunconsciousofherself-betrayal.“Sheexplainedshehadbeenrehearsingwithherunderstudyatthehotelandthatshe’dneverevenheardofthisMr.Faulkener.Andthesergeantsaid,‘MissHel—’”
Shestoppedandflushed.
“MissHelman,”suggestedSirHenrywithatwinkle.
“Yes—yes,thatwoulddo.Thankyou.Hesaid,‘Well,MissHelman,Ifeltitmustbesomemistake,knowingthatyouwerestoppingattheBridgeHotel,’andhesaidwouldIhaveanyobjectiontoconfronting—orwasitbeingconfronted?Ican’tremember.”
“Itdoesn’treallymatter,”saidSirHenryreassuringly.
“Anyway,withtheyoungman.SoIsaid,‘Ofcoursenot.’Andtheybroughthimandsaid,‘ThisisMissHelier,’and—Oh!”Janebrokeoffopenmouthed.
“Nevermind,mydear,”saidMissMarpleconsolingly.“Wewereboundtoguess,youknow.Andyouhaven’tgivenusthenameoftheplaceoranythingthatreallymatters.”
“Well,”saidJane.“Ididmeantotellitasthoughithappenedtosomeoneelse.Butitisdifficult,isn’tit!Imeanoneforgetsso.”
Everyoneassuredherthatitwasverydifficult,andsoothedandreassured,shewentonwithherslightlyinvolvednarrative.
“Hewasanice-lookingman—quiteanice-lookingman.Young,withreddishhair.Hismouthjustopenedwhenhesawme.Andthesergeantsaid,‘Isthisthelady?’Andhesaid,‘No,indeeditisn’t.WhatanassIhavebeen.’AndIsmiledathimandsaiditdidn’tmatter.”
“Icanpicturethescene,”saidSirHenry.
JaneHelierfrowned.
“Letmesee—howhadIbettergoon?”
“Supposingyoutelluswhatitwasallabout,dear,”saidMissMarple,somildlythatnoonecouldsuspectherofirony.“Imeanwhattheyoungman’smistakewas,andabouttheburglary.”
“Oh,yes,”saidJane.“Well,yousee,thisyoungman—LeslieFaulkener,hisnamewas—hadwrittenaplay.He’dwrittenseveralplays,asamatteroffact,thoughnoneofthemhadeverbeentaken.Andhehadsentthisparticularplaytometoread.Ididn’tknowaboutit,becauseofcourseIhavehundredsofplayssenttomeandIreadveryfewofthemmyself—onlytheonesIknowsomethingabout.Anyway,thereitwas,anditseemsthatMr.Faulkenergotaletterfromme—onlyitturnedoutnottobereallyfromme—youunderstand—”
Shepausedanxiously,andtheyassuredherthattheyunderstood.
“SayingthatI’dreadtheplay,andlikeditverymuchandwouldhecomedownandtalkitoverwithme.Anditgavetheaddress—TheBungalow,Riverbury.SoMr.Faulkenerwasfrightfullypleasedandhecamedownandarrivedatthisplace—TheBungalow.Aparlourmaidopenedthedoor,andheaskedforMissHelier,andshesaidMissHelierwasinandexpectinghimandshowedhimintothedrawingroom,andthereawomancametohim.Andheacceptedherasmeasamatterofcourse—whichseemsqueerbecauseafterallhehadseenmeactandmyphotographsareverywell-known,aren’tthey?”
“OverthelengthandbreadthofEngland,”saidMrs.Bantrypromptly.“Butthere’softenalotofdifferencebetweenaphotographanditsoriginal,mydearJane.Andthere’sagreatdealofdifferencebetweenbehindthefootlightsandoffthestage.It’snoteveryactresswhostandsthetestaswellasyoudo,remember.”
“Well,”saidJaneslightlymollified,“thatmaybeso.Anyway,hedescribedthiswomanastallandfairwithbigblueeyesandverygood-looking,soIsupposeitmusthavebeennearenough.Hecertainlyhadnosuspicions.Shesatdownandbegantalkingabouthisplayandsaidshewasanxioustodoit.WhilsttheyweretalkingcocktailswerebroughtinandMr.Faulkenerhadoneasamatterofcourse.Well—that’sallheremembers—havingthiscocktail.Whenhewokeup,orcametohimself,orwhateveryoucallit—hewaslyingoutintheroad,bythehedge,ofcourse,sothattherewouldbenodangerofhisbeingrunover.Hefeltveryqueerandshaky—somuchsothathejustgotupandstaggeredalongtheroadnotquiteknowingwherehewasgoing.Hesaidifhe’dhadhissenseabouthimhe’dhavegonebacktoTheBungalowandtriedtofindoutwhathadhappened.Buthefeltjuststupidandmazedandwalkedalongwithoutquiteknowingwhathewasdoing.Hewasjustmoreorlesscomingtohimselfwhenthepolicearrestedhim.”
“Whydidthepolicearresthim?”askedDr.Lloyd.
“Oh!didn’tItellyou?”saidJaneopeninghereyesverywide.“HowverystupidIam.Theburglary.”
“Youmentionedaburglary—butyoudidn’tsaywhereorwhatorwhy,”saidMrs.Bantry.
“Well,thisbungalow—theonehewentto,ofcourse—itwasn’tmineatall.Itbelongedtoamanwhosenamewas—”
AgainJanefurrowedherbrows.
“Doyouwantmetobegodfatheragain?”askedSirHenry.“Pseudonymssuppliedfreeofcharge.DescribethetenantandI’lldothenaming.”
“Itwastakenbyarichcityman—aknight.”
“SirHermanCohen,”suggestedSirHenry.
“Thatwilldobeautifully.Hetookitforalady—shewasthewifeofanactor,andshewasalsoanactressherself.”
“We’llcalltheactorClaudLeason,”saidSirHenry,“andtheladywouldbeknownbyherstagename,Isuppose,sowe’llcallherMissMaryKerr.”
“Ithinkyou’reawfullyclever,”saidJane.“Idon’tknowhowyouthinkofthesethingssoeasily.Well,youseethiswasasortofweekendcottageforSirHerman—didyousayHerman?—andthelady.And,ofcourse,hiswifeknewnothingaboutit.”
“Whichissooftenthecase,”saidSirHenry.
“Andhe’dgiventhisactresswomanagooddealofjewelleryincludingsomeveryfineemeralds.”
“Ah!”saidDr.Lloyd.“Nowwe’regettingatit.”
“Thisjewellerywasatthebungalow,justlockedupinajewelcase.Thepolicesaiditwasverycareless—anyonemighthavetakenit.”
“Yousee,Dolly,”saidColonelBantry.“WhatdoIalwaystellyou?”
“Well,inmyexperience,”saidMrs.Bantry,“it’salwaysthepeoplewhoaresodreadfullycarefulwholosethings.Idon’tlockmineupinajewelcase—Ikeepitinadrawerloose,undermystockings.Idaresayif—what’shername?—MaryKerrhaddonethesame,itwouldneverhavebeenstolen.”
“Itwould,”saidJane,“becauseallthedrawerswereburstopen,andthecontentsstrewnabout.”
“Thentheyweren’treallylookingforjewels,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Theywerelookingforsecretpapers.That’swhatalwayshappensinbooks.”
“Idon’tknowaboutsecretpapers,”saidJanedoubtfully.“Ineverheardofany.”
“Don’tbedistracted,MissHelier,”saidColonelBantry.“Dolly’swildred-herringsarenottobetakenseriously.”
“Abouttheburglary,”saidSirHenry.
“Yes.Well,thepolicewererungupbysomeonewhosaidshewasMissMaryKerr.Shesaidthebungalowhadbeenburgledanddescribedayoungmanwithredhairwhohadcalledtherethatmorning.Hermaidhadthoughttherewassomethingoddabouthimandhadrefusedhimadmittance,butlatertheyhadseenhimgettingoutthroughawindow.Shedescribedthemansoaccuratelythatthepolicearrestedhimonlyanhourlaterandthenhetoldhisstoryandshowedthemtheletterfromme.AndasItoldyou,theyfetchedmeandwhenhesawmehesaidwhatItoldyou—thatithadn’tbeenmeatall!”
“Averycuriousstory,”saidDr.Lloyd.“DidMr.FaulkenerknowthisMissKerr?”
“No,hedidn’t—orhesaidhedidn’t.ButIhaven’ttoldyouthemostcuriouspartyet.Thepolicewenttothebungalowofcourse,andtheyfoundeverythingasdescribed—drawerspulledoutandjewelsgone,butthewholeplacewasempty.Itwasn’ttillsomehourslaterthatMaryKerrcameback,andwhenshedidshesaidshe’dneverrungthemupatallandthiswasthefirstshe’dheardofit.Itseemedthatshehadhadawirethatmorningfromamanagerofferingheramostimportantpartandmakinganappointment,soshehadnaturallyrusheduptotowntokeepit.Whenshegotthere,shefoundthatthewholethingwasahoax.Notelegramhadeverbeensent.”
“Acommonenoughrusetogetheroutoftheway,”commentedSirHenry.“Whatabouttheservants?”
“Thesamesortofthinghappenedthere.Therewasonlyone,andshewasrunguponthetelephone—apparentlybyMaryKerr,whosaidshehadleftamostimportantthingbehind.Shedirectedthemaidtobringupacertainhandbagwhichwasinthedrawerofherbedroom.Shewastocatchthefirsttrain.Themaiddidso,ofcourselockingupthehouse;
“H’m,”saidSirHenry.“Ibegintosee.Thehousewasleftempty,andtomakeanentrybyoneofthewindowswouldpresentfewdifficulties,Ishouldimagine.ButIdon’tquiteseewhereMr.Faulkenercomesin.Whodidringupthepolice,ifitwasn’tMissKerr?”
“That’swhatnobodykneworeverfoundout.”
“Curious,”saidSirHenry.“Didtheyoungmanturnouttobegenuinelythepersonhesaidhewas?”
“Oh,yes,thatpartofitwasallright.He’devengottheletterwhichwassupposedtobewrittenbyme.Itwasn’ttheleastbitlikemyhandwriting—butthen,ofcourse,hecouldn’tbesupposedtoknowthat.”
“Well,let’sstatethepositionclearly,”saidSirHenry.“CorrectmeifIgowrong.Theladyandthemaidaredecoyedfromthehouse.Thisyoungmanisdecoyeddowntherebymeansofabogusletter—colourbeinglenttothislastbythefactthatyouactuallyareperformingatRiverburythatweek.Theyoungmanisdoped,andthepolicearerungupandhavetheirsuspicionsdirectedagainsthim.Aburglaryactuallyhastakenplace.Ipresumethejewelsweretaken?”
“Oh,yes.”
“Weretheyeverrecovered?”
“No,never.Ithink,asamatteroffact,SirHermantriedtohushthingsupallheknewhow.Buthecouldn’tmanageit,andIratherfancyhiswifestarteddivorceproceedingsinconsequence.Still,Idon’treallyknowaboutthat.”
“WhathappenedtoMr.LeslieFaulkener?”
“Hewasreleasedintheend.Thepolicesaidtheyhadn’treallygotenoughagainsthim.Don’tyouthinkthewholethingwasratherodd?”
“Distinctlyodd.Thefirstquestioniswhosestorytobelieve?Intellingit,MissHelier,InoticedthatyouinclinetowardsbelievingMr.Faulkener.Haveyouanyreasonfordoingsobeyondyourowninstinctinthematter?”
“No-no,”saidJaneunwillingly.“IsupposeIhaven’t.Buthewassoverynice,andsoapologeticforhavingmistakenanyoneelseforme,thatIfeelsurehemusthavebeentellingthetruth.”
“Isee,”saidSirHenrysmiling.“Butyoumustadmitthathecouldhaveinventedthestoryquiteeasily.Hecouldwritetheletterpurportingtobefromyouhimself.Hecouldalsodopehimselfaftersuccessfullycommittingtheburglary.ButIconfessIdon’tseewherethepointofallthatwouldbe.Easiertoenterthehouse,helphimself,anddisappearquietly—unlessjustpossiblyhewasobservedbysomeoneintheneighbourhoodandknewhimselftohavebeenobserved.Thenhemighthastilyconcoctthisplanfordivertingsuspicionfromhimselfandaccountingforhispresenceintheneighbourhood.”
“Washewell-off?”askedMissMarple.
“Idon’tthinkso,”saidJane.“No,Ibelievehewasratherhardup.”
“Thewholethingseemscurious,”saidDr.Lloyd.“Imustconfessthatifweaccepttheyoungman’sstoryastrue,itseemstomakethecaseverymuchmoredifficult.WhyshouldtheunknownwomanwhopretendedtobeMissHelierdragthisunknownmanintotheaffair?Whyshouldshestagesuchanelaboratecomedy?”
“Tellme,Jane,”saidMrs.Bantry.“DidyoungFaulkenerevercomefacetofacewithMaryKerratanystageoftheproceedings?”
“Idon’tquiteknow,”saidJaneslowly,asshepuzzledherbrowsinremembrance.
“Becauseifhedidn’tthecaseissolved!”saidMrs.Bantry.“I’msureI’mright.Whatiseasierthantopretendyou’recalleduptotown?YoutelephonetoyourmaidfromPaddingtonorwhateverstationyouarriveat,andasshecomesuptotown,yougodownagain.Theyoungmancallsbyappointment,he’sdoped,yousetthestagefortheburglary,overdoingitasmuchaspossible.Youtelephonethepolice,giveadescriptionofyourscapegoat,andoffyougototownagain.Thenyouarrivehomebyalatertrainanddothesurprisedinnocent.”
“Butwhyshouldshestealherownjewels,Dolly?”
“Theyalwaysdo,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Andanyway,Icanthinkofhundredsofreasons.Shemayhavewantedmoneyatonce—oldSirHermanwouldn’tgiveherthecash,perhaps,soshepretendsthejewelsarestolenandthensellsthemsecretly.OrshemayhavebeenbeingblackmailedbysomeonewhothreatenedtotellherhusbandorSirHerman’swife.OrshemayhavealreadysoldthejewelsandSirHermanwasgettingrattyandaskingtoseethem,soshehadtodosomethingaboutit.That’sdoneagooddealinbooks.Orperhapsshewasgoingtohavethemresetandshe’dgotpastereplicas.Or—here’saverygoodidea—andnotsomuchdoneinbooks—shepretendstheyarestolen,getsinanawfulstateandhegivesherafreshlot.Soshegetstwolotsinsteadofone.Thatkindofwoman,Iamsure,ismostfrightfullyartful.”
“Youareclever,Dolly,”saidJaneadmiringly.“Ineverthoughtofthat.”
“Youmaybeclever,butshedoesn’tsayyou’reright,”saidColonelBantry.“Iinclinetosuspicionofthecitygentleman.He’dknowthesortoftelegramtogettheladyoutoftheway,andhecouldmanagetheresteasilyenoughwiththehelpofanewladyfriend.Nobodyseemstohavethoughtofaskinghimforanalibi.”
“Whatdoyouthink,MissMarple?”askedJane,turningtowardstheoldladywhohadsatsilent,apuzzledfrownonherface.
“Mydear,Ireallydon’tknowwhattosay.SirHenrywilllaugh,butIrecallnovillageparalleltohelpmethistime.Ofcoursethereareseveralquestionsthatsuggestthemselves.Forinstance,theservantquestion.In—ahem—anirregularménageofthekindyoudescribe,theservantemployedwoulddoubtlessbeperfectlyawareofthestateofthings,andareallynicegirlwouldnottakesuchaplace—hermotherwouldn’tletherforaminute.SoIthinkwecanassumethatthemaidwasnotareallytrustworthycharacter.Shemayhavebeeninleaguewiththethieves.ShewouldleavethehouseopenforthemandactuallygotoLondonasthoughsureofthepretencetelephonemessagesoastodivertsuspicionfromherself.Imustconfessthatthatseemsthemostprobablesolution.Onlyifordinarythieveswereconcerneditseemsveryodd.Itseemstoarguemoreknowledgethanamaidservantwaslikelytohave.”
MissMarplepausedandthenwentondreamily:
“Ican’thelpfeelingthattherewassome—well,whatImustdescribeaspersonalfeelingaboutthewholething.Supposingsomebodyhadaspite,forinstance?Ayoungactressthathehadn’ttreatedwell?Don’tyouthinkthatthatwouldexplainthingsbetter?Adeliberateattempttogethimintotrouble.That’swhatitlookslike.Andyet—that’snotentirelysatisfactory….”
“Why,doctor,youhaven’tsaidanything,”saidJane.“I’dforgottenyou.”
“I’malwaysgettingforgotten,”saidthegrizzleddoctorsadly.“Imusthaveaveryinconspicuouspersonality.”
“Oh,no!”saidJane.“Dotelluswhatyouthink.”
“I’mratherinthepositionofagreeingwitheveryone’ssolutions—andyetwithnoneofthem.Imyselfhaveafar-fetchedandprobablytotallyerroneoustheorythatthewifemayhavehadsomethingtodowithit.SirHerman’swife,Imean.I’venogroundsforthinkingso—onlyyouwouldbesurprisedifyouknewtheextraordinary—reallyveryextraordinarythingsthatawrongedwifewilltakeitintoherheadtodo.”
“Oh!Dr.Lloyd,”criedMissMarpleexcitedly.“Howcleverofyou.AndIneverthoughtofpoorMrs.Pebmarsh.”
Janestaredather.
“Mrs.Pebmarsh?WhoisMrs.Pebmarsh?”
“Well—”MissMarplehesitated.“Idon’tknowthatshereallycomesin.She’salaundress.Andshestoleanopalpinthatwaspinnedintoablouseandputitinanotherwoman’shouse.”
Janelookedmorefoggedthanever.
“Andthatmakesitallperfectlycleartoyou,MissMarple?”saidSirHenry,withhistwinkle.
ButtohissurpriseMissMarpleshookherhead.
“No,I’mafraiditdoesn’t.Imustconfessmyselfcompletelyataloss.WhatIdorealizeisthatwomenmuststicktogether—oneshould,inanemergency,standbyone’sownsex.Ithinkthat’sthemoralofthestoryMissHelierhastoldus.”
“Imustconfessthatthatparticularethicalsignificanceofthemysteryhasescapedme,”saidSirHenrygravely.“PerhapsIshallseethesignificanceofyourpointmoreclearlywhenMissHelierhasrevealedthesolution.”
“Eh?”saidJanelookingratherbewildered.
“Iwasobservingthat,inchildishlanguage,we‘giveitup.’Youandyoualone,MissHelier,havehadthehighhonourofpresentingsuchanabsolutelybafflingmysterythatevenMissMarplehastoconfessherselfdefeated.”
“Youallgiveitup?”askedJane.
“Yes.”Afteraminute’ssilenceduringwhichhewaitedfortheotherstospeak,SirHenryconstitutedhimselfspokesmanoncemore.“Thatistosaywestandorfallbythesketchysolutionswehavetentativelyadvanced.Oneeachforthemeremen,twoforMissMarple,andarounddozenfromMrs.B.”
“Itwasnotadozen,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Theywerevariationsonamaintheme.AndhowoftenamItotellyouthatIwillnotbecalledMrs.B?”
“Soyouallgiveitup,”saidJanethoughtfully.“That’sveryinteresting.”
Sheleanedbackinherchairandbegantopolishhernailsratherabsentmindedly.
“Well,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Comeon,Jane.Whatisthesolution?”
“Thesolution?”
“Yes.Whatreallyhappened?”
Janestaredather.
“Ihaven’ttheleastidea.”
“What?”
“I’vealwayswondered.Ithoughtyouwereallsocleveroneofyouwouldbeabletotellme.”
Everybodyharbouredfeelingsofannoyance.ItwasallverywellforJanetobesobeautiful—butatthismomenteveryonefeltthatstupiditycouldbecarriedtoofar.Eventhemosttranscendentlovelinesscouldnotexcuseit.
“Youmeanthetruthwasneverdiscovered?”saidSirHenry.
“No.That’swhy,asIsay,Ididthinkyouwouldbeabletotellme.”
Janesoundedinjured.Itwasplainthatshefeltshehadagrievance.
“Well—I’m—I’m—”saidColonelBantry,wordsfailinghim.
“Youarethemostaggravatinggirl,Jane,”saidhiswife.“Anyway,I’msureandalwayswillbethatIwasright.Ifyoujusttellusthepropernamesofthepeople,Ishallbequitesure.”
“Idon’tthinkIcoulddothat,”saidJaneslowly.
“No,dear,”saidMissMarple.“MissHeliercouldn’tdothat.”
“Ofcourseshecould,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Don’tbesohigh-minded,Jane.Weolderfolkmusthaveabitofscandal.Atanyratetelluswhothecitymagnatewas.”
ButJaneshookherhead,andMissMarple,inherold-fashionedway,continuedtosupportthegirl.
“Itmusthavebeenaverydistressingbusiness,”shesaid.
“No,”saidJanetruthfully.“Ithink—IthinkIratherenjoyedit.”
“Well,perhapsyoudid,”saidMissMarple.“Isupposeitwasabreakinthemonotony.Whatplaywereyouactingin?”
“Smith.”
“Oh,yes.That’soneofMr.SomersetMaugham’s,isn’tit?Allhisareveryclever,Ithink.I’veseenthemnearlyall.”
“You’rerevivingittogoontournextautumn,aren’tyou?”askedMrs.Bantry.
Janenodded.
“Well,”saidMissMarplerising.“Imustgohome.Suchlatehours!Butwe’vehadaveryentertainingevening.Mostunusuallyso.IthinkMissHelier’sstorywinstheprize.Don’tyouagree?”
“I’msorryyou’reangrywithme,”saidJane.“Aboutnotknowingtheend,Imean.IsupposeIshouldhavesaidsosooner.”
Hertonesoundedwistful.Dr.Lloydrosegallantlytotheoccasion.
“Mydearyounglady,whyshouldyou?Yougaveusaveryprettyproblemtosharpenourwitson.Iamonlysorrywecouldnoneofussolveitconvincingly.”
“Speakforyourself,”saidMrs.Bantry.“Ididsolveit.I’mconvincedIamright.”
“Doyouknow,Ireallybelieveyouare,”saidJane.“Whatyousaidsoundedsoprobable.”
“Whichofhersevensolutionsdoyoureferto?”askedSirHenryteasingly.
Dr.LloydgallantlyassistedMissMarpletoputonhergoloshes.“Justincase,”astheoldladyexplained.Thedoctorwastobeherescorttoherold-worldcottage.Wrappedinseveralwoollenshawls,MissMarplewishedeveryonegoodnightoncemore.ShecametoJaneHelierlastandleaningforward,shemurmuredsomethingintheactress’sear.Astartled“Oh!”burstfromJane—soloudastocausetheotherstoturntheirheads.
Smilingandnodding,MissMarplemadeherexit,JaneHelierstaringafterher.
“Areyoucomingtobed,Jane?”askedMrs.Bantry.“What’sthematterwithyou?You’restaringasthoughyou’dseenaghost.”
WithadeepsighJanecametoherself,shedabeautifulandbewilderingsmileonthetwomenandfollowedherhostessupthestaircase.Mrs.Bantrycameintothegirl’sroomwithher.
“Yourfire’snearlyout,”saidMrs.Bantry,givingitaviciousandineffectualpoke.“Theycan’thavemadeitupproperly.Howstupidhousemaidsare.Still,Isupposeweareratherlatetonight.Why,it’sactuallypastoneo’clock!”
“Doyouthinktherearemanypeoplelikeher?”askedJaneHelier.
Shewassittingonthesideofthebedapparentlywrappedinthought.
“Likethehousemaid?”
“No.Likethatfunnyoldwoman—what’shername—Marple?”
“Oh!Idon’tknow.Isupposeshe’safairlycommontypeinasmallvillage.”
“Ohdear,”saidJane.“Idon’tknowwhattodo.”
Shesigheddeeply.
“What’sthematter?”
“I’mworried.”
“Whatabout?”
“Dolly,”JaneHelierwasportentouslysolemn.“Doyouknowwhatthatqueeroldladywhisperedtomebeforeshewentoutofthedoortonight?”
“No.What?”
“Shesaid:‘Ishouldn’tdoitifIwereyou,mydear.Neverputyourselftoomuchinanotherwoman’spower,evenifyoudothinkshe’syourfriendatthemoment.’Youknow,Dolly,that’sawfullytrue.”
“Themaxim?Yes,perhapsitis.ButIdon’tseetheapplication.”
“Isupposeyoucan’teverreallytrustawoman.AndIshouldbeinherpower.Ineverthoughtofthat.”
“Whatwomanareyoutalkingabout?”
“NettaGreene,myunderstudy.”
“WhatonearthdoesMissMarpleknowaboutyourunderstudy?”
“Isupposesheguessed—butIcan’tseehow.”
“Jane,willyoukindlytellmeatoncewhatyouaretalkingabout?”
“Thestory.TheoneItold.Oh,Dolly,thatwoman,youknow—theonethattookClaudfromme?”
Mrs.Bantrynodded,castinghermindbackrapidlytothefirstofJane’sunfortunatemarriages—toClaudAverbury,theactor.
“Hemarriedher;andIcouldhavetoldhimhowitwouldbe.Clauddoesn’tknow,butshe’scarryingonwithSirJosephSalmon—weekendswithhimatthebungalowItoldyouabout.Iwantedhershownup—Iwouldlikeeveryonetoknowthesortofwomanshewas.Andyousee,withaburglary,everythingwouldbeboundtocomeout.”
“Jane!”gaspedMrs.Bantry.“Didyouengineerthisstoryyou’vebeentellingus?”
Janenodded.
“That’swhyIchoseSmith.Iwearparlourmaid’skitinit,youknow.SoIshouldhaveithandy.Andwhentheysentformetothepolicestationit’stheeasiestthingintheworldtosayIwasrehearsingmypartwithmyunderstudyatthehotel.Really,ofcourse,wewouldbeatthebungalow.Ijusthavetoopenthedoorandbringinthecocktails,andNettatopretendtobeheragain,ofcourse,sotherewouldbenofearofhisrecognizingher.AndIcanmakemyselflookquitedifferentasaparlourmaid;andbesides,onedoesn’tlookatparlourmaidsasthoughtheywerepeople.Weplannedtodraghimoutintotheroadafterwards,bagthejewelcase,telephonethepoliceandgetbacktothehotel.Ishouldn’tlikethepoor
Mrs.Bantrysatdownandgroaned.
“Oh!mypoorhead.Andallthetime—JaneHelier,youdeceitfulgirl!Tellingusthatstorythewayyoudid!”
“Iamagoodactress,”saidJanecomplacently.“Ialwayshavebeen,whateverpeoplechoosetosay.Ididn’tgivemyselfawayonce,didI?”
“MissMarplewasright,”murmuredMrs.Bantry.“Thepersonalelement.Oh,yes,thepersonalelement.Jane,mygoodchild,doyourealizethattheftistheft,andyoumighthavebeensenttoprison?”
“Well,noneofyouguessed,”saidJane.“ExceptMissMarple.”Theworriedexpressionreturnedtoherface.“Dolly,doyoureallythinktherearemanylikeher?”
“Frankly,Idon’t,”saidMrs.Bantry
Janesighedagain.
“Still,onehadbetternotriskit.AndofcourseIshouldbeinNetta’spower—that’strueenough.Shemightturnagainstmeorblackmailmeoranything.Shehelpedmethinkoutthedetailsandsheprofessedtobedevotedtome,butoneneverdoesknowwithwomen.No,IthinkMissMarplewasright.Ihadbetternotriskit.”
“But,mydear,youhaveriskedit.”
“Oh,no.”Janeopenedherblueeyesverywide.“Don’tyouunderstand?Noneofthishashappenedyet!Iwas—well,tryingitonthedog,sotospeak.”
“Idon’tprofesstounderstandyourtheatricalslang,”saidMrs.Bantrywithdignity.“Doyoumeanthisisafutureproject—notapastdeed?”
“Iwasgoingtodoitthisautumn—inSeptember.Idon’tknowwhattodonow.”
“AndJaneMarpleguessed—actuallyguessedthetruthandnevertoldus,”saidMrs.Bantrywrathfully.
“Ithinkthatwaswhyshesaidthat—aboutwomenstickingtogether.Shewouldn’tgivemeawaybeforethemen.Thatwasniceofher.Idon’tmindyourknowing,Dolly.”
“Well,givetheideaup,Jane.Ibegofyou.”
“IthinkIshall,”murmuredMissHelier.“TheremightbeotherMissMarples….”
Thirteen
DEATHBYDROWNING
SirHenryClithering,Ex-CommissionerofScotlandYard,wasstayingwithhisfriendstheBantrysattheirplacenearthelittlevillageofSt.MaryMead.
OnSaturdaymorning,comingdowntobreakfastatthepleasantguestlyhouroften-fifteen,healmostcollidedwithhishostess,Mrs.Bantry,inthedoorwayofthebreakfastroom.Shewasrushingfromtheroom,evidentlyinaconditionofsomeexcitementanddistress.
ColonelBantrywassittingatthetable,hisfaceratherredderthanusual.
“‘Morning,Clithering,”hesaid.“Niceday.Helpyourself.”
SirHenryobeyed.Ashetookhisseat,aplateofkidneysandbaconinfrontofhim,hishostwenton:
“Dolly’sabitupsetthismorning.”
“Yes—er—Iratherthoughtso,”saidSirHenrymildly.
Hewonderedalittle.Hishostesswasofaplaciddisposition,littlegiventomoodsorexcitement.AsfarasSirHenryknew,shefeltkeenlyononesubjectonly—gardening.
“Yes,”saidColonelBantry.“Bitofnewswegotthismorningupsether.Girlinthevillage—Emmott’sdaughter—EmmottwhokeepstheBlueBoar.”
“Oh,yes,ofcourse.”
“Ye-es,”saidColonelBantryruminatively.“Prettygirl.Gotherselfintotrouble.Usualstory.I’vebeenarguingwithDollyaboutthat.Foolishofme.Womenneverseesense.Dollywasallupinarmsforthegirl—youknowwhatwomenare—menarebrutes—alltherestofit,etcetera.Butit’snotsosimpleasallthat—notinthesedays.Girlsknowwhatthey’reabout.Fellowwhoseducesagirl’snotnecessarilyavillain.Fifty-fiftyasoftenasnot.IratherlikedyoungSandfordmyself.AyoungassratherthanaDonJuan,Ishouldhavesaid.”
“ItisthismanSandfordwhogotthegirlintotrouble?”
“Soitseems.OfcourseIdon’tknowanythingpersonally,”saidtheColonelcautiously.“It’sallgossipandchat.Youknowwhatthisplaceis!AsIsay,Iknownothing.AndI’mnotlikeDolly—leapingtoconclusions,flingingaccusationsallovertheplace.Damnitall,oneoughttobecarefulinwhatonesays.Youknow—inquestandallthat.”
“Inquest?”
ColonelBantrystared.
“Yes.Didn’tItellyou?Girldrownedherself.That’swhatallthepother’sabout.”
“That’sanastybusiness,”saidSirHenry.
“Ofcourseitis.Don’tliketothinkofitmyself.Poorprettylittledevil.Herfather’sahardmanbyallaccounts.Isupposeshejustfeltshecouldn’tfacethemusic.”
Hepaused.
“That’swhat’supsetDollyso.”
“Wheredidshedrownherself?”
“Intheriver.Justbelowthemillitrunsprettyfast.There’safootpathandabridgeacross.Theythinkshethrewherselfoffthat.Well,well,itdoesn’tbearthinkingabout.”
Andwithaportentousrustle,ColonelBantryopenedhisnewspaperandproceededtodistracthismindfrompainfulmattersbyanabsorptioninthenewestiniquitiesofthegovernment.
SirHenrywasonlymildlyinterestedbythevillagetragedy.Afterbreakfast,heestablishedhimselfonacomfortablechaironthelawn,tiltedhishatoverhiseyesandcontemplatedlifefromapeacefulangle.
Itwasabouthalfpastelevenwhenaneatparlourmaidtrippedacrossthelawn.
“Ifyouplease,sir,MissMarplehascalled,andwouldliketoseeyou.”
“MissMarple?”
SirHenrysatupandstraightenedhishat.Thenamesurprisedhim.HerememberedMissMarpleverywell—hergentlequietold-maidishways,heramazingpenetration.Herememberedadozenunsolvedandhypotheticalcases—andhowineachcasethistypical“oldmaidofthevillage”hadleapedunerringlytotherightsolutionofthemystery.SirHenryhadaverydeeprespectforMissMarple.Hewonderedwhathadbroughthertoseehim.
MissMarplewassittinginthedrawingroom—veryuprightasalways,agailycolouredmarketingbasketofforeignextractionbesideher.Hercheekswereratherpinkandsheseemedflustered.
“SirHenry—Iamsoglad.Sofortunatetofindyou.Ijusthappenedtohearthatyouwerestayingdownhere…Idohopeyouwillforgiveme….”
“Thisisagreatpleasure,”saidSirHenry,takingherhand.“I’mafraidMrs.Bantry’sout.”
“Yes,”saidMissMarple.“IsawhertalkingtoFootit,thebutcher,asIpassed.HenryFootitwasrunoveryesterday—thatwashisdog.Oneofthosesmooth-hairedfoxterriers,ratherstoutandquarrelsome,thatbutchersalwaysseemtohave.”
“Yes,”saidSirHenryhelpfully.
“Iwasgladtogetherewhenshewasn’tathome,”continuedMissMarple.“BecauseitwasyouIwantedtosee.Aboutthissadaffair.”
“HenryFootit?”askedSirHenry,slightlybewildered.
MissMarplethrewhimareproachfulglance.
“No,no.RoseEmmott,ofcourse.You’veheard?”
SirHenrynodded.
“Bantrywastellingme.Verysad.”
Hewasalittlepuzzled.HecouldnotconceivewhyMissMarpleshouldwanttoseehimaboutRoseEmmott.
MissMarplesatdownagain.SirHenryalsosat.Whentheoldladyspokehermannerhadchanged.Itwasgrave,andhadacertaindignity.
“Youmayremember,SirHenry,thatononeortwooccasionsweplayedwhatwasreallyapleasantkindofgame.Propoundingmysteriesandgivingsolutions.YouwerekindenoughtosaythatI—thatIdidnotdotoobadly.”
“Youbeatusall,”saidSirHenrywarmly.“Youdisplayedanabsolutegeniusforgettingtothetruth.Andyoualwaysinstanced,Iremember,somevillageparallelwhichhadsuppliedyouwiththeclue.”
Hesmiledashespoke,butMissMarpledidnotsmile.Sheremainedverygrave.
“Whatyousaidhasemboldenedmetocometoyounow.IfeelthatifIsaysomethingtoyou—atleastyouwillnotlaughatme.”
Herealizedsuddenlythatshewasindeadlyearnest.
“Certainly,Iwillnotlaugh,”hesaidgently.
“SirHenry—thisgirl—RoseEmmott.Shedidnotdrownherself—shewasmurdered…AndIknowwhomurderedher.”
SirHenrywassilentwithsheerastonishmentforquitethreeseconds.MissMarple’svoicehadbeenperfectlyquietandunexcited.Shemighthavebeenmakingthemostordinarystatementintheworldforalltheemotionsheshowed.
“Thisisaveryseriousstatementtomake,MissMarple,”saidSirHenrywhenhehadrecoveredhisbreath.
Shenoddedherheadgentlyseveraltimes.
“Iknow—Iknow—thatiswhyIhavecometoyou.”
“But,mydearlady,Iamnotthepersontocometo.Iammerelyaprivateindividualnowadays.Ifyouhaveknowledgeofthekindyouclaim,youmustgotothepolice.”
“Idon’tthinkIcandothat,”saidMissMarple.
“Butwhynot?”
“Because,yousee,Ihaven’tgotany—whatyoucallknowledge.”
“Youmeanit’sonlyaguessonyourpart?”
“Youcancallitthat,ifyoulike,butit’snotreallythatatall.Iknow.I’minapositiontoknow;butifIgavemyreasonsforknowingtoInspectorDrewitt—well,he’dsimplylaugh.Andreally,Idon’tknowthatI’dblamehim.It’sverydifficulttounderstandwhatyoumightcallspecializedknowledge.”
“Suchas?”suggestedSirHenry.
MissMarplesmiledalittle.
“IfIweretotellyouthatIknowbecauseofamancalledPease-goodleavingturnipsinsteadofcarrotswhenhecameroundwithacartandsoldvegetablestomynieceseveralyearsago—”
Shestoppedeloquently.
“Averyappropriatenameforthetrade,”murmuredSirHenry.“Youmeanthatyouaresimplyjudgingfromthefactsinaparallelcase.”
“Iknowhumannature,”saidMissMarple.“It’simpossiblenottoknowhumannaturelivinginavillagealltheseyears.Thequestionis,doyoubelieveme,ordon’tyou?”
Shelookedathimverystraight.Thepinkflushhadheightenedonhercheeks.Hereyesmethissteadilywithoutwavering.
SirHenrywasamanwithaveryvastexperienceoflife.Hemadehisdecisionsquicklywithoutbeatingaboutthebush.UnlikelyandfantasticasMissMarple’sstatementmightseem,hewasinstantlyawarethatheacceptedit.
“Idobelieveyou,MissMarple.ButIdonotseewhatyouwantmetodointhematter,orwhyyouhavecometome.”
“Ihavethoughtandthoughtaboutit,”saidMissMarple.“AsIsaid,itwouldbeuselessgoingtothepolicewithoutanyfacts.Ihavenofacts.WhatIwouldaskyoutodoistointerestyourselfinthematter—InspectorDrewittwouldbemostflattered,Iamsure.And,ofcourse,ifthematterwentfarther,ColonelMelchett,theChiefConstable,Iamsure,wouldbewaxinyourhands.”
Shelookedathimappealingly.
“Andwhatdataareyougoingtogivemetoworkupon?”
“Ithought,”saidMissMarple,“ofwritinganame—thename—onapieceofpaperandgivingittoyou.Thenif,oninvestigation,youdecidedthatthe—theperson—isnotinvolvedinanyway—well,Ishallhavebeenquitewrong.”
Shepausedandthenaddedwithaslightshiver.“Itwouldbesodreadful—soverydreadful—ifaninnocentpersonweretobehanged.”
“Whatonearth—”criedSirHenry,startled.
Sheturnedadistressedfaceuponhim.
“Imaybewrongaboutthat—thoughIdon’tthinkso.InspectorDrewitt,yousee,isreallyanintelligentman.Butamediocreamountofintelligenceissometimesmostdangerous.Itdoesnottakeonefarenough.”
SirHenrylookedathercuriously.
Fumblingalittle,MissMarpleopenedasmallreticule,tookoutalittlenotebook,toreoutaleaf,carefullywroteanameonitandfoldingitintwo,handedittoSirHenry.
Heopeneditandreadthename.Itconveyednothingtohim,buthiseyebrowsliftedalittle.HelookedacrossatMissMarpleandtuckedthepieceofpaperinhispocket.
“Well,well,”hesaid.“Ratheranextraordinarybusiness,this.I’veneverdoneanythinglikeitbefore.ButI’mgoingtobackmyjudgment—ofyou,MissMarple.”
SirHenrywassittinginaroomwithColonelMelchett,theChiefConstableofthecounty,andInspectorDrewitt.
TheChiefConstablewasalittlemanofaggressivelymilitarydemeanour.TheInspectorwasbigandbroadandeminentlysensible.
“IreallydofeelI’mbuttingin,”saidSirHenrywithhispleasantsmile.“Ican’treallytellyouwhyI’mdoingit.”(Stricttruththis!)
“Mydearfellow,we’recharmed.It’sagreatcompliment.”
“Honoured,SirHenry,”saidtheInspector.
TheChiefConstablewasthinking:“Boredtodeath,poorfellow,attheBantrys.Theoldmanabusingthegovernmentandtheoldwomanbabblingonaboutbulbs.”
TheInspectorwasthinking:“Pitywe’renotupagainstarealteaser.OneofthebestbrainsinEngland,I’vehearditsaid.Pityit’sallsuchplainsailing.”
Aloud,theChiefConstablesaid:
“I’mafraidit’sallverysordidandstraightforward.Firstideawasthatthegirlhadpitchedherselfin.Shewasinthefamilyway,youunderstand.However,ourdoctor,Haydock,isacarefulfellow.Henoticedthebruisesoneacharm—upperarm.Causedbeforedeath.Justwhereafellowwouldhavetakenherbythearmsandflungherin.”
“Wouldthatrequiremuchstrength?”
“Ithinknot.Therewouldbenostruggle—thegirlwouldbetakenunawares.It’safootbridgeofslipperywood.Easiestthingintheworldtopitchherover—there’snohandrailthatside.”
“Youknowforafactthatthetragedyoccurredthere?”
“Yes.We’vegotaboy—JimmyBrown—agedtwelve.Hewasinthewoodsontheotherside.Heheardakindofscreamfromthebridgeandasplash.Itwasduskyouknow—difficulttoseeanything.Presentlyhesawsomethingwhitefloatingdowninthewaterandheranandgothelp.Theygotherout,butitwastoolatetoreviveher.”
SirHenrynodded.
“Theboysawnooneonthebridge?”
“No.But,asItellyou,itwasdusk,andthere’smistalwayshangingaboutthere.I’mgoingtoquestionhimastowhetherhesawanyoneaboutjustafterwardsorjustbefore.Youseehenaturallyassumedthatthegirlhadthrownherselfover.Everybodydidtostartwith.”
“Still,we’vegotthenote,”saidInspectorDrewitt.HeturnedtoSirHenry
“Noteinthedeadgirl’spocket,sir.Writtenwithakindofartist’spencilitwas,andallofasopthoughthepaperwaswemanagedtoreadit.”
“Andwhatdiditsay?”
“ItwasfromyoungSandford.‘Allright,’that’showitran.‘I’llmeetyouatthebridgeateightthirty.—R.S.’Well,itwasnearasmightbetoeightthirty—afewminutesafter—whenJimmyBrownheardthecryandthesplash.”
“Idon’tknowwhetheryou’vemetSandfordatall?”wentonColonelMelchett.“He’sbeendownhereaboutamonth.Oneofthesemoderndayyoungarchitectswhobuildpeculiarhouses.He’sdoingahouseforAllington.Godknowswhatit’sgoingtobelike—fullofnew-fangledstuff,Isuppose.Glassdinnertableandsurgicalchairsmadeofsteelandwebbing.Well,that’sneitherherenorthere,butitshowsthekindofchapSandfordis.Bolshie,youknow—nomorals.”
“Seduction,”saidSirHenrymildly,“isquiteanold-establishedcrimethoughitdoesnot,ofcourse,datebacksofarasmurder.”
ColonelMelchettstared.
“Oh!yes,”hesaid.“Quite.Quite.”
“Well,SirHenry,”saidDrewitt,“thereitis—anuglybusiness,butplain.ThisyoungSandfordgetsthegirlintotrouble.Thenhe’sallforclearingoffbacktoLondon.He’sgotagirlthere—niceyounglady—he’sengagedtobemarriedtoher.Well,naturallythisbusiness,ifshegetstohearofit,maycookhisgoosegoodandproper.HemeetsRoseatthebridge—it’samistyevening,nooneabout—hecatchesherbytheshouldersandpitchesherin.Aproperyoungswine—anddeserveswhat’scomingtohim.That’smyopinion.”
SirHenrywassilentforaminuteortwo.Heperceivedastrongundercurrentoflocalprejudice.Anew-fangledarchitectwasnotlikelytobepopularintheconservativevillageofSt.MaryMead.
“Thereisnodoubt,Isuppose,thatthisman,Sandford,wasactuallythefatherofthecomingchild?”heasked.
“He’sthefatherallright,”saidDrewitt.“RoseEmmottletoutasmuchtoherfather.Shethoughthe’dmarryher.Marryher!Nothe!”
“Dearme,”thoughtSirHenry.“Iseemtobebackinmid-Victorianmelodrama.Unsuspectinggirl,thevillainfromLondon,thesternfather,thebetrayal—weonlyneedthefaithfulvillagelover.Yes,Ithinkit’stimeIaskedabouthim.”
Andaloudhesaid:
“Hadn’tthegirlayoungmanofherowndownhere?”
“YoumeanJoeEllis?”saidtheInspector.“GoodfellowJoe.Carpentering’shistrade.Ah!Ifshe’dstucktoJoe—”
ColonelMelchettnoddedapproval.
“Sticktoyourownclass,”hesnapped
“HowdidJoeEllistakethisaffair?”askedSirHenry.
“Nobodyknewhowhewastakingit,”saidtheInspector.“He’saquietfellow,isJoe.Close.AnythingRosedidwasrightinhiseyes.Shehadhimonastringallright.Justhopedshe’dcomebacktohimsomeday—thatwashisattitude,Ireckon.”
“I’dliketoseehim,”saidSirHenry.
“Oh!We’regoingtolookhimup,”saidColonelMelchett.“We’renotneglectinganyline.Ithoughtmyselfwe’dseeEmmottfirst,thenSandford,andthenwecangoonandseeEllis.Thatsuitsyou,Clithering?”
SirHenrysaiditwouldsuithimadmirably.
TheyfoundTomEmmottattheBlueBoar.Hewasabigburlymanofmiddle-agewithashiftyeyeandatruculentjaw.
“Gladtoseeyou,gentlemen—goodmorning,Colonel.Comeinhereandwecanbeprivate.CanIofferyouanything,gentlemen?No?It’sasyouplease.You’vecomeaboutthisbusinessofmypoorgirl.Ah!Shewasagoodgirl,Rosewas.Alwayswasagoodgirl—tillthisbloodyswine—begpardon,butthat’swhatheis—tillhecamealong.Promisedhermarriage,hedid.ButI’llhavethelawonhim.Drovehertoit,hedid.Murderingswine.Bringingdisgraceonallofus.Mypoorgirl.”
“YourdaughterdistinctlytoldyouthatMr.Sandfordwasresponsibleforhercondition?”askedMelchettcrisply.
“Shedid.Inthisveryroomshedid.”
“Andwhatdidyousaytoher?”askedSirHenry.
“Saytoher?”Themanseemedmomentarilytakenaback.
“Yes.Youdidn’t,forexample,threatentoturnheroutofthehouse.”
“Iwasabitupset—that’sonlynatural.I’msureyou’llagreethat’sonlynatural.But,ofcourse,Ididn’tturnheroutofthehouse.Iwouldn’tdosuchathing.”Heassumedvirtuousindignation.“No.What’sthelawfor—that’swhatIsay.What’sthelawfor?He’dgottodotherightbyher.Andifhedidn’t,byGod,he’dgottopay.”
Hebroughtdownhisfistonthetable.
“Whattimedidyoulastseeyourdaughter?”askedMelchett.
“Yesterday—teatime.”
“Whatwashermannerthen?”
“Well,muchasusual.Ididn’tnoticeanything.IfI’dknown—”
“Butyoudidn’tknow,”saidtheInspectordrily.
Theytooktheirleave.
“Emmotthardlycreatesafavourableimpression,”saidSirHenrythoughtfully
“Bitofablackguard,”saidMelchett.“He’dhavebledSandfordallrightifhe’dhadthechance.”
Theirnextcallwasonthearchitect.RexSandfordwasveryunlikethepictureSirHenryhadunconsciouslyformedofhim.Hewasatallyoungman,veryfairandverythin.Hiseyeswereblueanddreamy,hishairwasuntidyandrathertoolong.Hisspeechwasalittletooladylike.
ColonelMelchettintroducedhimselfandhiscompanions.Thenpassingstraighttotheobjectofhisvisit,heinvitedthearchitecttomakeastatementastohismovementsonthepreviousevening.
“Youunderstand,”hesaidwarningly.“Ihavenopowertocompelastatementfromyouandanystatementyoumakemaybeusedinevidenceagainstyou.Iwantthepositiontobequitecleartoyou.”
“I—Idon’tunderstand,”saidSandford.
“YouunderstandthatthegirlRoseEmmottwasdrownedlastnight?”
“Iknow.Oh!it’stoo,toodistressing.Really,Ihaven’tsleptawink.I’vebeenincapableofanyworktoday.Ifeelresponsible—terriblyresponsible.”
Heranhishandsthroughhishair,makingituntidierstill.
“Inevermeantanyharm,”hesaidpiteously.“Ineverthought.Ineverdreamtshe’dtakeitthatway.”
Hesatdownatatableandburiedhisfaceinhishands.
“DoIunderstandyoutosay,Mr.Sandford,thatyourefusetomakeastatementastowhereyouwerelastnightateightthirty?”
“No,no—certainlynot.Iwasout.Iwentforawalk.”
“YouwenttomeetMissEmmott?”
“No.Iwentbymyself.Throughthewoods.Alongway.”
“Thenhowdoyouaccountforthisnote,sir,whichwasfoundinthedeadgirl’spocket?”
AndInspectorDrewittreaditunemotionallyaloud.
“Now,sir,”hefinished.“Doyoudenythatyouwrotethat?”
“No—no.You’reright.Ididwriteit.Roseaskedmetomeether.Sheinsisted.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.SoIwrotethatnote.”
“Ah,that’sbetter,”saidtheInspector.
“ButIdidn’tgo!”Sandford’svoicerosehighandexcited.“Ididn’tgo!Ifeltitwouldbemuchbetternot.Iwasreturningtotowntomorrow.Ifeltitwouldbebetternot—nottomeet.IintendedtowritefromLondonand—andmake—somearrangement.”
“Youareaware,sir,thatthisgirlwasgoingtohaveachild,andthatshehadnamedyouasitsfather?”
Sandfordgroaned,butdidnotanswer.
“Wasthatstatementtrue,sir?”
Sandfordburiedhisfacedeeper.
“Isupposeso,”hesaidinamuffledvoice.
“Ah!”InspectorDrewittcouldnotdisguisethesatisfaction.“Nowaboutthis‘walk’ofyours.Isthereanyonewhosawyoulastnight?”
“Idon’tknow.Idon’tthinkso.AsfarasIcanremember,Ididn’tmeetanybody.”
“That’sapity.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Sandfordstaredwildlyathim.“WhatdoesitmatterwhetherIwasoutforawalkornot?WhatdifferencedoesthatmaketoRosedrowningherself?”
“Ah!”saidtheInspector.“Butyousee,shedidn’t.Shewasthrownindeliberately,Mr.Sandford.”
“Shewas—”Ittookhimaminuteortwototakeinallthehorrorofit.“MyGod!Then—”
Hedroppedintoachair.
ColonelMelchettmadeamovetodepart.
“Youunderstand,Sandford,”hesaid.“Youareonnoaccounttoleavethishouse.”
Thethreemenlefttogether.TheInspectorandtheChiefConstableexchangedglances.
“That’senough,Ithink,sir,”saidtheInspector.
“Yes.Getawarrantmadeoutandarresthim.”
“Excuseme,”saidSirHenry,“I’veforgottenmygloves.”
Hereenteredthehouserapidly.Sandfordwassittingjustastheyhadlefthim,staringdazedlyinfrontofhim.
“Ihavecomeback,”saidSirHenry,“totellyouthatIpersonally,amanxioustodoallIcantoassistyou.ThemotiveofmyinterestinyouIamnotatlibertytoreveal.ButIamgoingtoaskyou,ifyouwill,totellmeasbrieflyaspossibleexactlywhatpassedbetweenyouandthisgirlRose.”
“Shewasverypretty,”saidSandford.“Veryprettyandveryalluring.And—andshemadeadeadseatatme.BeforeGod,that’strue.Shewouldn’tletmealone.Anditwaslonelydownhere,andnobodylikedmemuch,and—and,asIsayshewasamazinglyprettyandsheseemedtoknowherwayaboutandallthat—”Hisvoicediedaway.Helookedup.“Andthenthishappened.Shewantedmetomarryher.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.I’mengagedtoagirlinLondon.Ifsheevergetstohearofthis—andshewill,ofcourse—well,it’sallup.Shewon’tunderstand.Howcouldshe?AndI’marotter,ofcourse.AsIsay,Ididn’tknowwhattodo.IavoidedseeingRoseagain.IthoughtI’dgetbacktotown—seemylawyer—makearrangementsaboutmoneyandsoforth,forher.God,whatafoolI’vebeen!Andit’sallsoclear—thecaseagainstme.Butthey’vemadeamistake.Shemusthavedoneitherself.”
“Didsheeverthreatentotakeherlife?”
Sandfordshookhishead.
“Never.Ishouldn’thavesaidshewasthatsort.”
“WhataboutamancalledJoeEllis?”
“Thecarpenterfellow?Goodoldvillagestock.Dullfellow—butcrazyaboutRose.”
“Hemighthavebeenjealous?”suggestedSirHenry.
“Isupposehewasabit—buthe’sthebovinekind.He’dsufferinsilence.”
“Well,”saidSirHenry.“Imustbegoing.”
Herejoinedtheothers.
“Youknow,Melchett,”hesaid,“Ifeelweoughttohavealookatthisotherfellow—Ellis—beforewedoanythingdrastic.Pityifyoumadeanarrestthatturnedouttobeamistake.Afterall,jealousyisaprettygoodmotiveformurder—andaprettycommonone,too.”
“That’strueenough,”saidtheInspector.“ButJoeEllisisn’tthatkind.Hewouldn’thurtafly.Why,nobody’severseenhimoutoftemper.Still,Iagreewe’dbetterjustaskhimwherehewaslastnight.He’llbeathomenow.HelodgeswithMrs.Bartlett—verydecentsoul—awidow,shetakesinabitofwashing.”
Thelittlecottagetowhichtheybenttheirfootstepswasspotlesslycleanandneat.Abigstoutwomanofmiddle-ageopenedthedoortothem.Shehadapleasantfaceandblueeyes.
“Goodmorning,Mrs.Bartlett,”saidtheInspector.“IsJoeEllishere?”
“Camebacknottenminutesago,”saidMrs.Bartlett.“Stepinside,willyou,please,sirs.”
Wipingherhandsonherapronsheledthemintoatinyfrontparlourwithstuffedbirds,chinadogs,asofaandseveraluselesspiecesoffurniture.
Shehurriedlyarrangedseatsforthem,pickedupawhatnotbodilytomakefurtherroomandwentoutcalling:
“Joe,there’sthreegentlemenwanttoseeyou.”
Avoicefromthebackkitchenreplied:
“I’llbetherewhenI’vecleanedmyself.”
Mrs.Bartlettsmiled.
“Comein,Mrs.Bartlett,”saidColonelMelchett.“Sitdown.”
“Oh,no,sir,Icouldn’tthinkofit.”
Mrs.Bartlettwasshockedattheidea.
“YoufindJoeEllisagoodlodger?”inquiredMelchettinaseeminglycarelesstone.
“Couldn’thaveabetter,sir.Arealsteadyyoungfellow.Nevertouchesadropofdrink.Takesaprideinhiswork.Andalwayskindandhelpfulaboutthehouse.Heputupthoseshelvesforme,andhe’sfixedanewdresserinthekitchen.Andanylittlethingthatwantsdoinginthehouse—why,Joedoesitasamatterofcourse,andwon’thardlytakethanksforit.Ah!therearen’tmanyyoungfellowslikeJoe,sir.”
“Somegirlwillbeluckysomeday,”saidMelchettcarelessly.“Hewasrathersweetonthatpoorgirl,RoseEmmott,wasn’the?”
Mrs.Bartlettsighed.
“Itmademetired,itdid.Himworshippingthegroundshetrodonandhernotcaringasnapofthefingersforhim.”
“WheredoesJoespendhisevenings,Mrs.Bartlett?”
“Here,sir,usually.Hedoessomeoddpieceofworkintheevenings,sometimes,andhe’stryingtolearnbookkeepingbycorrespondence.”
“Ah!really.Washeinyesterdayevening?”
“Yes,sir.”
“You’resure,Mrs.Bartlett?”saidSirHenrysharply.
Sheturnedtohim.
“Quitesure,sir.”
“Hedidn’tgoout,forinstance,somewhereabouteighttoeightthirty?”
“Oh,no.”Mrs.Barlettlaughed.“Hewasfixingthekitchendresserformenearlyalltheevening,andIwashelpinghim.”
SirHenrylookedathersmilingassuredfaceandfelthisfirstpangofdoubt.
AmomentlaterEllishimselfenteredtheroom.
Hewasatallbroad-shoulderedyoungman,verygood-lookinginarusticway.Hehadshy,blueeyesandagood-temperedsmile.Altogetheranamiableyounggiant.
Melchettopenedtheconversation.Mrs.Bartlettwithdrewtothekitchen.
“WeareinvestigatingthedeathofRoseEmmott.Youknewher,Ellis.”
“Yes.”Hehesitated,thenmuttered,“Hopedtomarryheroneday.Poorlass.”
“Youhaveheardofwhatherconditionwas?”
“Yes.”Asparkofangershowedinhiseyes.“Letherdown,hedid.But’twereforthebest.Shewouldn’thavebeenhappymarriedtohim.Ireckonedshe’dcometomewhenthishappened.I’dhavelookedafterher.”
“Inspiteof—”
“’Tweren’therfault.Heledherastraywithfinepromisesandall.Oh!shetoldmeaboutit.She’dnocalltodrownherself.Heweren’tworthit.”
“Wherewereyou,Ellis,lastnightateightthirty?”
WasitSirHenry’sfancy,orwastherereallyashadeofconstraintintheready—almosttooready—reply.
“Iwashere.FixingupacontraptioninthekitchenforMrs.B.Youaskher.She’lltellyou.”
“Hewastooquickwiththat,”thoughtSirHenry.“He’saslow-thinkingman.ThatpoppedoutsopatthatIsuspecthe’dgotitreadybeforehand.”
Thenhetoldhimselfthatitwasimagination.Hewasimaginingthings—yes,evenimagininganapprehensiveglintinthoseblueeyes.
Afewmorequestionsandanswersandtheyleft.SirHenrymadeanexcusetogotothekitchen.Mrs.Bartlettwasbusyatthestove.Shelookedupwithapleasantsmile.Anewdresserwasfixedagainstthewall.Itwasnotquitefinished.Sometoolslayaboutandsomepiecesofwood.
“That’swhatElliswasatworkonlastnight?”saidSirHenry.
“Yes,sir,it’sanicebitofwork,isn’tit?He’saveryclevercarpenter,Joeis.”
Noapprehensivegleaminhereye—noembarrassment.
ButEllis—hadheimaginedit?No,therehadbeensomething.
“Imusttacklehim,”thoughtSirHenry.
Turningtoleavethekitchen,hecollidedwithaperambulator.
“Notwokenthebabyup,Ihope,”hesaid.
Mrs.Bartlett’slaughrangout.
“Oh,no,sir.I’venochildren—more’sthepity.That’swhatItakethelaundryon,sir.”
“Oh!Isee—”
Hepausedthensaidonanimpulse:
“Mrs.Bartlett.YouknewRoseEmmott.Tellmewhatyoureallythoughtofher.”
Shelookedathimcuriously.
“Well,sir,Ithoughtshewasflighty.Butshe’sdead—andIdon’tliketospeakillofthedead.”
“ButIhaveareason—averygoodreasonforasking.”
Hespokepersuasively.
Sheseemedtoconsider,studyinghimattentively.Finallyshemadeuphermind
“Shewasabadlot,sir,”shesaidquietly.“Iwouldn’tsaysobeforeJoe.Shetookhimingoodandproper.Thatkindcan—more’sthepity.Youknowhowitis,sir.”
Yes,SirHenryknew.TheJoeEllisesoftheworldwerepeculiarlyvulnerable.Theytrustedblindly.Butforthatverycausetheshockofdiscoverymightbegreater.
Heleftthecottagebaffledandperplexed.Hewasupagainstablankwall.JoeEllishadbeenworkingindoorsallyesterdayevening.Mrs.Bartletthadactuallybeentherewatchinghim.Couldonepossiblygetroundthat?Therewasnothingtosetagainstit—exceptpossiblythatsuspiciousreadinessinreplyingonJoeEllis’spart—thatsuggestionofhavingastorypat.
“Well,”saidMelchett,“thatseemstomakethematterquiteclear,eh?”
“Itdoes,sir,”agreedtheInspector.“Sandford’sourman.Notalegtostandupon.Thething’sasplainasdaylight.It’smyopinionasthegirlandherfatherwereoutto—well—practicallyblackmailhim.He’snomoneytospeakof—hedidn’twantthemattertogettohisyounglady’sears.Hewasdesperateandheactedaccordingly.Whatdoyousay,sir?”headded,addressingSirHenrydeferentially.
“Itseemsso,”admittedSirHenry.“Andyet—IcanhardlypictureSandfordcommittinganyviolentaction.”
Butheknewashespokethatthatobjectionwashardlyvalid.Themeekestanimal,whencornered,iscapableofamazingactions.
“Ishouldliketoseetheboy,though,”hesaidsuddenly.“Theonewhoheardthecry.”
JimmyBrownprovedtobeanintelligentlad,rathersmallforhisage,withasharp,rathercunningface.Hewaseagertobequestionedandwasratherdisappointedwhencheckedinhisdramatictaleofwhathehadheardonthefatalnight.
“Youwereontheothersideofthebridge,Iunderstand,”saidSirHenry.“Acrosstheriverfromthevillage.Didyouseeanyoneonthatsideasyoucameoverthebridge?”
“Therewassomeonewalkingupinthewoods.Mr.Sandford,Ithinkitwas,thearchitectinggentlemanwho’sbuildingthequeerhouse.”
Thethreemenexchangedglances.
“Thatwasabouttenminutesorsobeforeyouheardthecry?”
Theboynodded.
“Didyouseeanyoneelse—onthevillagesideoftheriver?”
“Amancamealongthepaththatside.Goingslowandwhistlinghewas.MighthavebeenJoeEllis.”
“Youcouldn’tpossiblyhaveseenwhoitwas,”saidtheInspectorsharply.“Whatwiththemistanditsbeingdusk.”
“It’sonaccountofthewhistle,”saidtheboy.“JoeEllisalwayswhistlesthesametune—‘Iwannerbehappy’—it’stheonlytuneheknows.”
Hespokewiththescornofthemodernistfortheold-fashioned.
“Anyonemightwhistleatune,”saidMelchett.“Washegoingtowardsthebridge?”
“No.Otherway—tovillage.”
“Idon’tthinkweneedconcernourselveswiththisunknownman,”saidMelchett.“Youheardthecryandthesplashandafewminuteslateryousawthebodyfloatingdownstreamandyouranforhelp,goingbacktothebridge,crossingit,andmakingstraightforthevillage.Youdidn’tseeanyonenearthebridgeasyouranforhelp?”
“Ithinkasthereweretwomenwithawheelbarrowontheriverpath;buttheyweresomewayawayandIcouldn’ttelliftheyweregoingorcomingandMr.Giles’splacewasnearest—soIranthere.”
“Youdidwell,myboy,”saidMelchett.“Youactedverycreditablyandwithpresenceofmind.You’reascout,aren’tyou?”
“Yes,sir.”
“Verygood.Verygoodindeed.”
SirHenrywassilent—thinking.Hetookaslipofpaperfromhispocket,lookedatit,shookhishead.Itdidn’tseempossible—andyet—
HedecidedtopayacallonMissMarple
Shereceivedhiminherpretty,slightlyovercrowdedold-styledrawingroom.
“I’vecometoreportprogress,”saidSirHenry.“I’mafraidthatfromourpointofviewthingsaren’tgoingwell.TheyaregoingtoarrestSandford.AndImustsayIthinktheyarejustified.”
“Youhavefoundnothingin—whatshallIsay—supportofmytheory,then?”Shelookedperplexed—anxious.“PerhapsIhavebeenwrong—quitewrong.Youhavesuchwideexperience—youwouldsurelydetectitifitwereso.”
“Foronething,”saidSirHenry,“Icanhardlybelieveit.Andforanotherweareupagainstanunbreakablealibi.JoeElliswasfixingshelvesinthekitchenalltheeveningandMrs.Bartlettwaswatchinghimdoit.”
MissMarpleleanedforward,takinginaquickbreath.
“Butthatcan’tbeso,”shesaid.“ItwasFridaynight.”
“Fridaynight?”
“Yes—Fridaynight.OnFridayeveningsMrs.Bartletttakesthelaundryshehasdoneroundtothedifferentpeople.”
SirHenryleanedbackinhischair.HerememberedtheboyJimmy’sstoryofthewhistlingmanand—yes—itwouldallfitin.
Herose,takingMissMarplewarmlybythehand.
“IthinkIseemyway,”hesaid.“AtleastIcantry….”
FiveminuteslaterhewasbackatMrs.Bartlett’scottageandfacingJoeEllisinthelittleparlouramongthechinadogs.
“Youliedtous,Ellis,aboutlastnight,”hesaidcrisply.“Youwerenotinthekitchenherefixingthedresserbetweeneightandeightthirty.YouwereseenwalkingalongthepathbytherivertowardsthebridgeafewminutesbeforeRoseEmmottwasmurdered.”
Themangasped.
“Sheweren’tmurdered—sheweren’t.Ihadnaughttodowithit.Shethrewherselfin,shedid.Shewasdesperatelike.Iwouldn’thaveharmedahaironherhead,Iwouldn’t.”
“Thenwhydidyoulieastowhereyouwere?”askedSirHenrykeenly.
Theman’seyesshiftedandlowereduncomfortably.
“Iwasscared.Mrs.B.sawmearoundthereandwhenweheardjustafterwardswhathadhappened—well,shethoughtitmightlookbadforme.IfixedI’dsayIwasworkinghere,andsheagreedtobackmeup.She’sarareone,sheis.She’salwaysbeengoodtome.”
WithoutawordSirHenrylefttheroomandwalkedintothekitchen.Mrs.Bartlettwaswashingupatthesink.
“Mrs.Bartlett,”hesaid,“Iknoweverything.Ithinkyou’dbetterconfess—thatis,unlessyouwantJoeEllishangedforsomethinghedidn’tdo…No.Iseeyoudon’twantthat.I’lltellyouwhathappened.Youwereouttakingthelaundryhome.YoucameacrossRoseEmmott.Youthoughtshe’dgivenJoethechuckandwastakingupwiththisstranger.Nowshewasintrouble—Joewaspreparedtocometotherescue—marryherifneedbe,andifshe’dhavehim.He’slivedinyourhouseforfouryears.You’vefalleninlovewithhim.Youwanthimforyourself.Youhatedthisgirl—youcouldn’tbearthatthisworthlesslittleslutshouldtakeyourmanfromyou.You’reastrongwoman,Mrs.Bartlett.Youcaughtthegirlbytheshouldersandshovedheroverintothestream.AfewminuteslateryoumetJoeEllis.TheboyJimmysawyoutogetherinthedistance—butinthedarknessandthemistheassumedtheperambulatorwasawheelbarrowandtwomenwheelingit.YoupersuadedJoethathemightbesuspectedandyouconcoctedwhatwassupposedtobeanalibiforhim,butwhichwasreallyanalibiforyou.Nowthen,I’mright,amInot?”
Heheldhisbreath.Hehadstakedallonthisthrow.
Shestoodbeforehimrubbingherhandsonherapron,slowlymakinguphermind
“It’sjustasyousay,sir,”shesaidatlast,inherquietsubduedvoice(adangerousvoice,SirHenrysuddenlyfeltittobe).“Idon’tknowwhatcameoverme.Shameless—that’swhatshewas.Itjustcameoverme—sheshan’ttakeJoefromme.Ihaven’thadahappylife,sir.Myhusband,hewasapoorlot—aninvalidandcross-grained.Inursedandlookedafterhimtrue.AndthenJoecameheretolodge.I’mnotsuchanoldwoman,sir,inspiteofmygreyhair.I’mjustforty,sir.Joe’soneinathousand.I’dhavedoneanythingforhim—anythingatall.Hewaslikealittlechild,sir,sogentleandbelieving.Hewasmine,sir,tolookafterandseeto.Andthis—this—”Sheswallowed—checkedheremotion.Evenatthismomentshewasastrongwoman.ShestoodupstraightandlookedatSirHenrycuriously.“I’mreadytocome,sir.Ineverthoughtanyonewouldfindout.Idon’tknowhowyouknew,sir—Idon’t,I’msure.”
SirHenryshookhisheadgently.
“ItwasnotIwhoknew,”hesaid—andhethoughtofthepieceofpaperstillreposinginhispocketwiththewordsonitwritteninneatold-fashionedhandwriting.
“Mrs.Bartlett,withwhomJoeEllislodgesat2MillCottages.”
MissMarplehadbeenrightagain.
Fourteen
MISSMARPLETELLSASTORY
Idon’tthinkI’veevertoldyou,mydears—you,Raymond,andyou,Joan,abouttherathercuriouslittlebusinessthathappenedsomeyearsagonow.Idon’twanttoseemvaininanyway—ofcourseIknowthatincomparisonwithyouyoungpeopleI’mnotcleveratall—Raymondwritesthoseverymodernbooksallaboutratherunpleasantyoungmenandwomen—andJoanpaintsthoseveryremarkablepicturesofsquarepeoplewithcuriousbulgesonthem—verycleverofyou,mydear,butasRaymondalwayssays(onlyquitekindly,becauseheisthekindestofnephews)IamhopelesslyVictorian.IadmireMr.Alma-TademaandMr.FredericLeightonandIsupposetoyoutheyseemhopelesslyvieuxjeu.Nowletmesee,whatwasIsaying?Oh,yes—thatIdidn’twanttoappearvain—butIcouldn’thelpbeingjustateenyweenybitpleasedwithmyself,because,justbyapplyingalittlecommonsense,IbelieveIreallydidsolveaproblemthathadbaffledclevererheadsthanmine.ThoughreallyIshouldhavethoughtthewholethingwasobviousfromthebeginning….
Well,I’lltellyoumylittlestory,andifyouthinkI’minclinedtobeconceitedaboutit,youmustrememberthatIdidatleasthelpafellowcreaturewhowasinverygravedistress.
ThefirstIknewofthisbusinesswasoneeveningaboutnineo’clockwhenGwen—(yourememberGwen?Mylittlemaidwithredhair)well—GwencameinandtoldmethatMr.Petherickandagentlemanhadcalledtoseeme.Gwenhadshownthemintothedrawingroom—quiterightly.IwassittinginthediningroombecauseinearlyspringIthinkitissowastefultohavetwofiresgoing.
IdirectedGwentobringinthecherrybrandyandsomeglassesandIhurriedintothedrawingroom.Idon’tknowwhetheryourememberMr.Petherick?Hediedtwoyearsago,buthehadbeenafriendofmineformanyyearsaswellasattendingtoallmylegalbusiness.Averyshrewdmanandareallycleversolicitor.Hissondoesmybusinessformenow—averyniceladandveryuptodate—butsomehowIdon’tfeelquitetheconfidenceIhadwithMr.Petherick.
IexplainedtoMr.Petherickaboutthefiresandhesaidatoncethatheandhisfriendwouldcomeintothediningroom—andthenheintroducedhisfriend—aMr.Rhodes.Hewasayoungishman—notmuchoverforty—andIsawatoncetherewassomethingverywrong.Hismannerwasmostpeculiar.Onemighthavecalleditrudeifonehadn’trealizedthatthepoorfellowwassufferingfromstrain.
WhenweweresettledinthediningroomandGwenhadbroughtthecherrybrandy,Mr.Petherickexplainedthereasonforhisvisit.
“MissMarple,”hesaid,“youmustforgiveanoldfriendfortakingaliberty.WhatIhavecomehereforisaconsultation.”
Icouldn’tunderstandatallwhathemeant,andhewenton:
“Inacaseofillnessonelikestwopointsofview—thatofthespecialistandthatofthefamilyphysician.Itisthefashiontoregardtheformerasofmorevalue,butIamnotsurethatIagree.Thespecialisthasexperienceonlyinhisownsubject—thefamilydoctorhas,perhaps,lessknowledge—butawiderexperience.”
Iknewjustwhathemeant,becauseayoungnieceofminenotlongbeforehadhurriedherchildofftoaverywell-knownspecialistinskindiseaseswithoutconsultingherowndoctorwhomsheconsideredanolddodderer,andthespecialisthadorderedsomeveryexpensivetreatment,andlaterfoundthatallthechildwassufferingfromwasaratherunusualformofmeasles.
Ijustmentionthis—thoughIhaveahorrorofdigressing—toshowthatIappreciateMr.Petherick’spoint—butIstillhadn’tanyideawhathewasdrivingat.
“IfMr.Rhodesisill—”Isaid,andstopped—becausethepoormangaveamostdreadfullaugh.
Hesaid:“Iexpecttodieofabrokenneckinafewmonths’time.”
Andthenitallcameout.TherehadbeenacaseofmurderlatelyinBarnchester—atownabouttwentymilesaway.I’mafraidIhadn’tpaidmuchattentiontoitatthetime,becausewehadbeenhavingalotofexcitementinthevillageaboutourdistrictnurse,andoutsideoccurrenceslikeanearthquakeinIndiaandamurderinBarnchester,althoughofcoursefarmoreimportantreally—hadgivenwaytoourownlittlelocalexcitements.I’mafraidvillagesarelikethat.Still,Ididrememberhavingreadaboutawomanhavingbeenstabbedinahotel,thoughIhadn’trememberedhername.ButnowitseemedthatthiswomanhadbeenMr.Rhodes’swife—andasifthatwasn’tbadenough—hewasactuallyundersuspicionofhavingmurderedherhimself.
AllthisMr.Petherickexplainedtomeveryclearly,sayingthat,althoughtheCoronor’sjuryhadbroughtinaverdictofmurderbyapersonorpersonsunknown,Mr.Rhodeshadreasontobelievethathewouldprobablybearrestedwithinadayortwo,andthathehadcometoMr.Petherickandplacedhimselfinhishands.Mr.PetherickwentontosaythattheyhadthatafternoonconsultedSirMalcolmOlde,K.C.,andthatintheeventofthecasecomingtotrialSirMalcolmhadbeenbriefedtodefendMr.Rhodes.
SirMalcolmwasayoungman,Mr.Pethericksaid,veryuptodateinhismethods,andhehadindicatedacertainlineofdefence.ButwiththatlineofdefenceMr.Petherickwasnotentirelysatisfied.
“Yousee,mydearlady,”hesaid,“itistaintedwithwhatIcallthespecialist’spointofview.GiveSirMalcolmacaseandheseesonlyonepoint—themostlikelylineofdefence.Buteventhebestlineofdefencemayignorecompletelywhatis,tomymind,thevitalpoint.Ittakesnoaccountofwhatactuallyhappened.”
Thenhewentontosaysomeverykindandflatteringthingsaboutmyacumenandjudgementandmyknowledgeofhumannature,andaskedpermissiontotellmethestoryofthecaseinthehopesthatImightbeabletosuggestsomeexplanation.
IcouldseethatMr.Rhodeswashighlyscepticalofmybeingofanyuseandhewasannoyedatbeingbroughthere.ButMr.PethericktooknonoticeandproceededtogivemethefactsofwhatoccurredonthenightofMarch8th.
Mr.andMrs.RhodeshadbeenstayingattheCrownHotelinBarnchester.Mrs.Rhodeswho(soIgatheredfromMr.Petherick’scarefullanguage)wasperhapsjustashadeofahypochondriac,hadretiredtobedimmediatelyafterdinner.Sheandherhusbandoccupiedadjoiningroomswithaconnectingdoor.Mr.Rhodes,whoiswritingabookonprehistoricflints,settleddowntoworkintheadjoiningroom.Ateleveno’clockhetidieduphispapersandpreparedtogotobed.Beforedoingso,hejustglancedintohiswife’sroomtomakesurethattherewasnothingshewanted.Hediscoveredtheelectriclightonandhiswifelyinginbedstabbedthroughtheheart.Shehadbeendeadatleastanhour—probablylonger.Thefollowingwerethepointsmade.TherewasanotherdoorinMrs.Rhodes’sroomleadingintothecorridor.Thisdoorwaslockedandboltedontheinside.Theonlywindowintheroomwasclosedandlatched.AccordingtoMr.Rhodesnobodyhadpassedthroughtheroominwhichhewassittingexceptachambermaidbringinghot-waterbottles.TheweaponfoundinthewoundwasastilettodaggerwhichhadbeenlyingonMrs.Rhodes’sdressingtable.Shewasinthehabitofusingitasapaperknife.Therewerenofingerprintsonit
Thesituationboileddowntothis—noonebutMr.Rhodesandthechambermaidhadenteredthevictim’sroom.
Ienquiredaboutthechambermaid.
“Thatwasourfirstlineofenquiry,”saidMr.Petherick.“MaryHillisalocalwoman.ShehadbeenchambermaidattheCrownfortenyears.Thereseemsabsolutelynoreasonwhysheshouldcommitasuddenassaultonaguest.Sheis,inanycase,extraordinarilystupid,almosthalf-witted.Herstoryhasnevervaried.ShebroughtMrs.Rhodesherhot-waterbottleandsaystheladywasdrowsy—justdroppingofftosleep.Frankly,Icannotbelieve,andIamsurenojurywouldbelieve,thatshecommittedthecrime.”
Mr.Petherickwentontomentionafewadditionaldetails.AttheheadofthestaircaseintheCrownHotelisakindofminiatureloungewherepeoplesometimessitandhavecoffee.ApassagegoesofftotherightandthelastdoorinitisthedoorintotheroomoccupiedbyMr.Rhodes.ThepassagethenturnssharplytotherightagainandthefirstdoorroundthecorneristhedoorintoMrs.Rhodes’sroom.Asithappened,boththesedoorscouldbeseenbywitnesses.Thefirstdoor—thatintoMr.Rhodes’sroom,whichIwillcallA,couldbeseenbyfourpeople,twocommercialtravellersandanelderlymarriedcouplewhowerehavingcoffee.AccordingtothemnobodywentinoroutofdoorAexceptMr.Rhodesandthechambermaid.AstotheotherdoorinthepassageB,therewasanelectricianatworkthereandhealsoswearsthatnobodyenteredorleftdoorBexceptthechambermaid.
Itwascertainlyaverycuriousandinterestingcase.Onthefaceofit,itlookedasthoughMr.Rhodesmusthavemurderedhiswife.ButIcouldseethatMr.Petherickwasquiteconvincedofhisclient’sinnocenceandMr.Petherickwasaveryshrewdman.
AttheinquestMr.Rhodeshadtoldahesitatingandramblingstoryaboutsomewomanwhohadwrittenthreateningletterstohiswife.Hisstory,Igathered,hadbeenunconvincingintheextreme.AppealedtobyMr.Petherick,heexplainedhimself.
“Frankly,”hesaid,“Ineverbelievedit.IthoughtAmyhadmademostofitup.”
Mrs.Rhodes,Igathered,wasoneofthoseromanticliarswhogothroughlifeembroideringeverythingthathappenstothem.Theamountofadventuresthat,accordingtoherownaccount,happenedtoherinayearwassimplyincredible.Ifsheslippedonabitofbananapeelitwasacaseofnearescapefromdeath.Ifalampshadecaughtfireshewasrescuedfromaburningbuildingatthehazardofherlife.Herhusbandgotintothehabitofdiscountingherstatements.Hertaleastosomewomanwhosechildshehadinjuredinamotoraccidentandwhohadvowedvengeanceonher—well—Mr.Rhodeshadsimplynottakenanynoticeofit.Theincidenthadhappenedbeforehemarriedhiswifeandalthoughshehadreadhimletterscouchedincrazylanguage,hehadsuspectedherofcomposingthemherself.Shehadactuallydonesuchathingonceortwicebefore.Shewasawomanofhystericaltendencieswhocravedceaselesslyforexcitement.
Now,allthatseemedtomeverynatural—indeed,wehaveayoungwomaninthevillagewhodoesmuchthesamething.Thedangerwithsuchpeopleisthatwhenanythingatallextraordinaryreallydoeshappentothem,nobodybelievestheyarespeakingthetruth.Itseemedtomethatthatwaswhathadhappenedinthiscase.Thepolice,Igathered,merelybelievedthatMr.Rhodeswasmakingupthisunconvincingtaleinordertoavertsuspicionfromhimself.
Iaskediftherehadbeenanywomenstayingbythemselvesinthehotel.Itseemedthereweretwo—aMrs.Granby,anAnglo-Indianwidow,andaMissCarruthers,ratherahorseyspinsterwhodroppedherg’s.Mr.Petherickaddedthatthemostminuteenquirieshadfailedtoelicitanyonewhohadseeneitherofthemnearthesceneofthecrimeandtherewasnothingtoconnecteitherofthemwithitinanyway.Iaskedhimtodescribetheirpersonalappearance.HesaidthatMrs.Granbyhadreddishhairratheruntidilydone,wassallow-facedandaboutfiftyyearsofage.Herclotheswereratherpicturesque,beingmademostlyofnativesilk,etc.MissCarrutherswasaboutforty,worepince-nez,hadclose-croppedhairlikeamanandworemannishcoatsandskirts.
“Dearme,”Isaid,“thatmakesitverydifficult.”
Mr.Pethericklookedenquiringlyatme,butIdidn’twanttosayanymorejustthen,soIaskedwhatSirMalcolmOldehadsaid.
SirMalcolmwasconfidentofbeingabletocallconflictingmedicaltestimonyandtosuggestsomewayofgettingoverthefingerprintdifficulty.IaskedMr.Rhodeswhathethoughtandhesaidalldoctorswerefoolsbuthehimselfcouldn’treallybelievethathiswifehadkilledherself.“Shewasn’tthatkindofwoman,”hesaidsimply—andIbelievedhim.Hystericalpeopledon’tusuallycommitsuicide.
IthoughtaminuteandthenIaskedifthedoorfromMrs.Rhodes’sroomledstraightintothecorridor.Mr.Rhodessaidno—therewasalittlehallwaywithabathroomandlavatory.Itwasthedoorfromthebedroomtothehallwaythatwaslockedandboltedontheinside.
“Inthatcase,”Isaid,“thewholethingseemsremarkablysimple.”
Andreally,youknow,itdid…thesimplestthingintheworld.Andyetnooneseemedtohaveseenitthatway.
BothMr.PetherickandMr.RhodeswerestaringatmesothatIfeltquiteembarrassed.
“Perhaps,”saidMr.Rhodes,“MissMarplehasn’tquiteappreciatedthedifficulties.”
“Yes,”Isaid,“IthinkIhave.Therearefourpossibilities.EitherMrs.Rhodeswaskilledbyherhusband,orbythechambermaid,orshecommittedsuicide,orshewaskilledbyanoutsiderwhomnobodysawenterorleave.”
“Andthat’simpossible,”Mr.Rhodesbrokein.“Nobodycouldcomeinorgooutthroughmyroomwithoutmyseeingthem,andevenifanyonedidmanagetocomeinthroughmywife’sroomwithouttheelectricianseeingthem,howthedevilcouldtheygetoutagainleavingthedoorlockedandboltedontheinside?”
Mr.Pethericklookedatmeandsaid:“Well,MissMarple?”inanencouragingmanner.
“Ishouldlike,”Isaid,“toaskaquestion.Mr.Rhodes,whatdidthechambermaidlooklike?”
Hesaidhewasn’tsure—shewastallish,hethought—hedidn’trememberifshewasfairordark.IturnedtoMr.Petherickandaskedthesamequestion.
Hesaidshewasofmediumheight,hadfairishhairandblueeyesandratherahighcolour.
Mr.Rhodessaid:“YouareabetterobserverthanIam,Petherick.”
Iventuredtodisagree.IthenaskedMr.Rhodesifhecoulddescribethemaidinmyhouse.NeitherhenorMr.Petherickcoulddoso.
“Don’tyouseewhatthatmeans?”Isaid.“Youbothcameherefullofyourownaffairsandthepersonwholetyouinwasonlyaparlourmaid.ThesameappliestoMr.Rhodesatthehotel.Hesawheruniformandherapron.Hewasengrossedbyhiswork.ButMr.Petherickhasinterviewedthesamewomaninadifferentcapacity.Hehaslookedatherasaperson.
“That’swhatthewomanwhodidthemurdercountedupon.”
Astheystilldidn’tsee,Ihadtoexplain.
“Ithink,”Isaid,“thatthisishowitwent.ThechambermaidcameinbydoorA,passedthroughMr.Rhodes’sroomintoMrs.Rhodes’sroomwiththehot-waterbottleandwentoutthroughthehallwayintopassageB.X—asIwillcallourmurderess—cameinbydoorBintothelittlehallway,concealedherselfin—well,inacertainapartment,ahem—andwaiteduntilthechambermaidhadpassedout.ThensheenteredMrs.Rhodes’sroom,tookthestilettofromthedressingtable(shehaddoubtlessexploredtheroomearlierintheday),wentuptothebed,stabbedthedozingwoman,wipedthehandleofthestiletto,lockedandboltedthedoorbywhichshehadentered,andthenpassedoutthroughtheroomwhereMr.Rhodeswasworking.”
Mr.Rhodescriedout:“ButIshouldhaveseenher.Theelectricianwouldhaveseenhergoin.”
“No,”Isaid.“That’swhereyou’rewrong.Youwouldn’tseeher—notifsheweredressedasachambermaid.”Iletitsinkin,thenIwenton,“Youwereengrossedinyourwork—outofthetailofyoureyeyousawachambermaidcomein,gointoyourwife’sroom,comebackandgoout.Itwasthesamedress—butnotthesamewoman.That’swhatthepeoplehavingcoffeesaw—achambermaidgoinandachambermaidcomeout.Theelectriciandidthesame.Idaresayifachambermaidwereveryprettyagentlemanmightnoticeherface—humannaturebeingwhatitis—butifshewerejustanordinarymiddle-agedwoman—well—itwouldbethechambermaid’sdressyouwouldsee—notthewomanherself.”
Mr.Rhodescried:“Whowasshe?”
“Well,”Isaid,“thatisgoingtobealittledifficult.ItmustbeeitherMrs.GranbyorMissCarruthers.Mrs.Granbysoundsasthoughshemightwearawignormally—soshecouldwearherownhairasachambermaid.Ontheotherhand,MissCarrutherswithherclose-croppedmannishheadmighteasilyputonawigtoplayherpart.Idaresayyouwillfindouteasilyenoughwhichofthemitis.Personally,IinclinemyselftothinkitwillbeMissCarruthers.”
Andreally,mydears,thatistheendofthestory.Carrutherswasafalsename,butshewasthewomanallright.Therewasinsanityinherfamily.Mrs.Rhodes,whowasamostrecklessanddangerousdriver,hadrunoverherlittlegirl,andithaddriventhepoorwomanoffherhead.Sheconcealedhermadnessverycunninglyexceptforwritingdistinctlyinsanelatterstoherintendedvictim.Shehadbeenfollowingheraboutforsometime,andshelaidherplansverycleverly.Thefalsehairandmaid’sdressshepostedinaparcelfirstthingthenextmorning.Whentaxedwiththetruthshebrokedownandconfessedatonce.ThepoorthingisinBroadmoornow.Completelyunbalancedofcourse,butaverycleverlyplannedcrime.
Mr.PetherickcametomeafterwardsandbroughtmeaveryniceletterfromMr.Rhodes—really,itmademeblush.Thenmyoldfriendsaidtome:“Justonething—whydidyouthinkitwasmorelikelytobeCarruthersthanGranby?You’dneverseeneitherofthem.”
“Well,”Isaid.“Itwastheg’s.Yousaidshedroppedherg’s.Now,that’sdonebyalotofhuntingpeopleinbooks,butIdon’tknowmanypeoplewhodoitinreality—andcertainlynooneundersixty.Yousaidthiswomanwasforty.Thosedroppedg’ssoundedtomelikeawomanwhowasplayingapartandoverdoingit.”
Ishan’ttellyouwhatMr.Pethericksaidtothat—buthewasverycomplimentary—andIreallycouldn’thelpfeelingjustateenyweenybitpleasedwithmyself.
Andit’sextraordinaryhowthingsturnoutforthebestinthisworld.Mr.Rhodeshasmarriedagain—suchanice,sensiblegirl—andthey’vegotadearlittlebabyand—whatdoyouthink?—theyaskedmetobegodmother.Wasn’titniceofthem?
NowIdohopeyoudon’tthinkI’vebeenrunningontoolong….
Fifteen
STRANGEJEST
“Andthis,”saidJaneHelier,completingherintroductions,“isMissMarple!”
Beinganactress,shewasabletomakeherpoint.Itwasclearlytheclimax,thetriumphantfinale!Hertonewasequallycompoundedofreverentaweandtriumph.
Theoddpartofitwasthattheobjectthusproudlyproclaimedwasmerelyagentle,fussy-looking,elderlyspinster.Intheeyesofthetwoyoungpeoplewhohadjust,byJane’sgoodoffices,madeheracquaintance,thereshowedincredulityandatingeofdismay.Theywerenice-lookingpeople;thegirl,CharmianStroud,slimanddark—theman,Edward
Charmiansaidalittlebreathlessly.“Oh!We’reawfullypleasedtomeetyou.”Buttherewasdoubtinhereyes.Sheflungaquick,questioningglanceatJaneHelier.
“Darling,”saidJane,answeringtheglance,“she’sabsolutelymarvellous.Leaveitalltoher.ItoldyouI’dgetherhereandIhave.”SheaddedtoMissMarple,“You’llfixitforthem,Iknow.Itwillbeeasyforyou.”
MissMarpleturnedherplacid,china-blueeyestowardsMr.Rossiter.“Won’tyoutellme,”shesaid,“whatallthisisabout?”
“Jane’safriendofours,”Charmianbrokeinimpatiently.“EdwardandIareinratherafix.Janesaidifwewouldcometoherparty,she’dintroduceustosomeonewhowas—whowould—whocould—”
Edwardcametotherescue.“Janetellsusyou’rethelastwordinsleuths,MissMarple!”
Theoldlady’seyestwinkled,butsheprotestedmodestly.“Oh,no,no!Nothingofthekind.It’sjustthatlivinginavillageasIdo,onegetstoknowsomuchabouthumannature.Butreallyyouhavemademequitecurious.Dotellmeyourproblem.”
“I’mafraidit’sterriblyhackneyed—justburiedtreasure,”saidEdward.
“Indeed?Butthatsoundsmostexciting!”
“Iknow.LikeTreasureIsland.Butourproblemlackstheusualromantictouches.Nopointonachartindicatedbyaskullandcrossbones,nodirectionslike‘fourpacestotheleft,westbynorth.’It’shorriblyprosaic—justwhereweoughttodig.”
“Haveyoutriedatall?”
“Ishouldsaywe’ddugabouttwosolidsquareacres!Thewholeplaceisreadytobeturnedintoamarketgarden.We’rejustdiscussingwhethertogrowvegetablemarrowsorpotatoes.”
Charmiansaidratherabruptly,“Maywereallytellyouallaboutit?”
“But,ofcourse,mydear.”
“Thenlet’sfindapeacefulspot.Comeon,Edward.”Sheledthewayoutoftheovercrowdedandsmoke-ladenroom,andtheywentupthestairs,toasmallsittingroomonthesecondfloor.
Whentheywereseated,Charmianbeganabruptly.“Well,heregoes!ThestorystartswithUncleMathew,uncle—orrather,great-great-uncle—tobothofus.Hewasincrediblyancient.EdwardandIwerehisonlyrelations.Hewasfondofusandalwaysdeclaredthatwhenhediedhewouldleavehismoneybetweenus.Well,hediedlastMarchandlefteverythinghehadtobedividedequallybetweenEdwardandmyself.WhatI’vejustsaidsoundsrathercallous—Idon’tmeanthatitwasrightthathedied—actuallywewereveryfondofhim.Buthe’dbeenillforsometime.
“Thepointisthatthe‘everything’heleftturnedouttobepracticallynothingatall.Andthat,frankly,wasabitofablowtousboth,wasn’tit,Edward?”
TheamiableEdwardagreed.“Yousee,”hesaid,“we’dcountedonitabit.Imean,whenyouknowagoodbitofmoneyiscomingtoyou,youdon’t—well—buckledownandtrytomakeityourself.I’minthearmy—notgotanythingtospeakofoutsidemypay—andCharmianherselfhasn’tgotabean.Sheworksasastagemanagerinarepertorytheatre—quiteinteresting,andsheenjoysit—butnomoneyinit.We’dcountedongettingmarried,butweren’tworriedaboutthemoneysideofitbecausewebothknewwe’dbejollywell-offsomeday.”
“Andnow,yousee,we’renot!”saidCharmian.“What’smore,Ansteys—that’sthefamilyplace,andEdwardandIbothloveit—willprobablyhavetobesold.AndEdwardandIfeelwejustcan’tbearthat!Butifwedon’tfindUncleMathew’smoney,weshallhavetosell.”
Edwardsaid,“Youknow,Charmian,westillhaven’tcometothevitalpoint.”
“Well,youtalk,then.”
EdwardturnedtoMissMarple.“It’slikethis,yousee.AsUncleMathewgrewolder,hegotmoreandmoresuspicious.Hedidn’ttrustanybody.”
“Verywiseofhim,”saidMissMarple.“Thedepravityofhumannatureisunbelievable.”
“Well,youmayberight.Anyway,UncleMathewthoughtso.Hehadafriendwholosthismoneyinabank,andanotherfriendwhowasruinedbyanabscondingsolicitor,andhelostsomemoneyhimselfinafraudulentcompany.Hegotsothatheusedtoholdforthatgreatlengththattheonlysafeandsanethingtodowastoconvertyourmoneyintosolidbullionandburyit.”
“Ah,”saidMissMarple.“Ibegintosee.”
“Yes.Friendsarguedwithhim,pointedoutthathe’dgetnointerestthatway,butheheldthatthatdidn’treallymatter.Thebulkofyourmoney,hesaid,shouldbe‘keptinaboxunderthebedorburiedinthegarden.’Thosewerehiswords.”
Charmianwenton.“Andwhenhedied,helefthardlyanythingatallinsecurities,thoughhewasveryrich.Sowethinkthatthat’swhathemusthavedone.”
Edwardexplained.“Wefoundthathehadsoldsecuritiesanddrawnoutlargesumsofmoneyfromtimetotime,andnobodyknowswhathedidwiththem.Butitseemsprobablethatheliveduptohisprinciples,andthathedidbuygoldandburyit.”
“Hedidn’tsayanythingbeforehedied?Leaveanypaper?Noletter?”
“That’sthemaddeningpartofit.Hedidn’t.He’dbeenunconsciousforsomedays,butheralliedbeforehedied.Helookedatusbothandchuckled—afaint,weaklittlechuckle.Hesaid,‘You’llbeallright,myprettypairofdoves.’Andthenhetappedhiseye—hisrighteye—andwinkedatus.Andthen—hedied.PooroldUncleMathew.”
“Hetappedhiseye,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.
Edwardsaideagerly.“Doesthatconveyanythingtoyou?ItmademethinkofanArseneLupinstorywheretherewassomethinghiddeninaman’sglasseye.ButUncleMathewdidn’thaveaglasseye.”
MissMarpleshookherhead.“No—Ican’tthinkofanythingatthemoment.”
Charmiansaiddisappointedly,“Janetoldusyou’dsayatoncewheretodig!”
MissMarplesmiled.“I’mnotquiteaconjurer,youknow.Ididn’tknowyouruncle,orwhatsortofmanhewas,andIdon’tknowthehouseorthegrounds.”
Charmiansaid,“Ifyoudidknowthem?”
“Well,itmustbequitesimple,really,mustn’tit?”saidMissMarple.
“Simple!”saidCharmian.“YoucomedowntoAnsteysandseeifit’ssimple!”
Itispossiblethatshedidnotmeantheinvitationtobetakenseriously,butMissMarplesaidbriskly,“Well,really,mydear,that’sverykindofyou.I’vealwayswantedtohavethechanceoflookingforburiedtreasure.And,”sheadded,lookingatthemwithabeaming,late-Victoriansmile,“withaloveinterest,too!”
“Yousee!”saidCharmian,gesturingdramatically.
TheyhadjustcompletedagrandtourofAnsteys.Theyhadbeenroundthekitchengarden—heavilytrenched.Theyhadbeenthroughthelittlewoods,whereeveryimportanttreehadbeenduground,andhadgazedsadlyonthepittedsurfaceoftheoncesmoothlawn.Theyhadbeenuptotheattic,whereoldtrunksandchestshadbeenrifledoftheircontents.Theyhadbeendowntothecellars,whereflagstoneshadbeenheavedunwillinglyfromtheirsockets.Theyhadmeasuredandtappedwalls,andMissMarplehadbeenshowneveryantiquepieceoffurniturethatcontainedorcouldbesuspectedofcontainingasecretdrawer.
Onatableinthemorningroomtherewasaheapofpapers—allthepapersthatthelateMathewStroudhadleft.Notonehadbeendestroyed,andCharmianandEdwardwerewonttoreturntothemagainandagain,earnestlyperusingbills,invitations,andbusinesscorrespondenceinthehopeofspottingahithertounnoticedclue.
“Canyouthinkofanywherewehaven’tlooked?”demandedCharmianhopefully.
MissMarpleshookherhead.“Youseemtohavebeenverythorough,mydear.Perhaps,ifImaysayso,justalittletoothorough.Ialwaysthink,youknow,thatoneshouldhaveaplan.It’slikemyfriend,Mrs.Eldritch,shehadsuchanicelittlemaid,polishedlinoleumbeautifully,butshewassothoroughthatshepolishedthebathroomfloortoomuch,andasMrs.Eldritchwassteppingoutofthebaththecorkmatslippedfromunderher,andshehadaverynastyfallandactuallybrokeherleg!Mostawkward,becausethebathroomdoorwaslocked,ofcourse,andthegardenerhadtogetaladderandcomeinthroughthewindow—terriblydistressingtoMrs.Eldritch,whohadalwaysbeenaverymodestwoman.”
Edwardmovedrestlessly.
MissMarplesaidquickly,“Pleaseforgiveme.Soapt,Iknow,toflyoffatatangent.Butonethingdoesremindoneofanother.Andsometimesthatishelpful.AllIwastryingtosaywasthatperhapsifwetriedtosharpenourwitsandthinkofalikelyplace—”
Edwardsaidcrossly,“Youthinkofone,MissMarple.Charmian’sbrainsandminearenowonlybeautifulblanks!”
“Dear,dear.Ofcourse—mosttiringforyou.Ifyoudon’tmindI’lljustlookthroughallthis.”Sheindicatedthepapersonthetable.“Thatis,ifthere’snothingprivate—Idon’twanttoappeartopry.”
“Oh,that’sallright.ButI’mafraidyouwon’tfindanything.”
Shesatdownbythetableandmethodicallyworkedthroughthesheafofdocuments.Asshereplacedeachone,shesortedthemautomaticallyintotidylittleheaps.Whenshehadfinishedshesatstaringinfrontofherforsomeminutes.
Edwardasked,notwithoutatouchofmalice,“Well,MissMarple?”
MissMarplecametoherselfwithalittlestart.“Ibegyourpardon.Mosthelpful.”
“You’vefoundsomethingrelevant?”
“Oh,no,nothinglikethat,butIdobelieveIknowwhatsortofmanyourUncleMathewwas.RatherlikemyownUncleHenry,Ithink.Fondofratherobviousjokes.Abachelor,evidently—Iwonderwhy—perhapsanearlydisappointment?Methodicaluptoapoint,butnotveryfondofbeingtiedup—sofewbachelorsare!”
BehindMissMarple’sback,CharmianmadeasigntoEdward.Itsaid,She’sgaga.
MissMarplewascontinuinghappilytotalkofherdeceasedUncleHenry.“Veryfondofpuns,hewas.Andtosomepeople,punsaremostannoying.Amereplayuponwordsmaybeveryirritating.Hewasasuspiciousman,too.Alwayswasconvincedtheservantswererobbinghim.Andsometimes,ofcourse,theywere,butnotalways.Itgrewuponhim,poorman.Towardstheendhesuspectedthemoftamperingwithhisfood,andfinallyrefusedtoeatanythingbutboiledeggs!Saidnobodycouldtamperwiththeinsideofaboiledegg.DearUncleHenry,heusedtobesuchamerrysoulatonetime—veryfondofhiscoffeeafterdinner.Healwaysusedtosay,‘ThiscoffeeisveryMoorish,’meaning,youknow,thathe’dlikealittlemore.”
EdwardfeltthatifheheardanymoreaboutUncleHenryhe’dgomad.
“Fondofyoungpeople,too,”wentonMissMarple,“butinclinedtoteasethemalittle,ifyouknowwhatImean.Usedtoputbagsofsweetswhereachildjustcouldn’treachthem.”
Castingpolitenessaside,Charmiansaid,“Ithinkhesoundshorrible!”
“Oh,no,dear,justanoldbachelor,youknow,andnotusedtochildren.Andhewasn’tatallstupid,really.Heusedtokeepagooddealofmoneyinthehouse,andhehadasafeputin.Madeagreatfussaboutit—andhowverysecureitwas.Asaresultofhistalkingsomuch,burglarsbrokeinonenightandactuallycutaholeinthesafewithachemicaldevice.”
“Servedhimright,”saidEdward.
“Oh,buttherewasnothinginthesafe,”saidMissMarple.“Yousee,hereallykeptthemoneysomewhereelse—behindsomevolumesofsermonsinthelibrary,asamatteroffact.Hesaidpeoplenevertookabookofthatkindoutoftheshelf!”
Edwardinterruptedexcitedly.“Isay,that’sanidea.Whataboutthelibrary?”
ButCharmianshookascornfulhead.“DoyouthinkIhadn’tthoughtofthat?IwentthroughallthebooksTuesdayoflastweek,whenyouwentofftoPortsmouth.Tookthemallout,shookthem.Nothingthere.”
Edwardsighed.Then,rousinghimself,heendeavouredtoridhimselftactfullyoftheirdisappointingguest.“It’sbeenawfullygoodofyoutocomedownasyouhaveandtrytohelpus.Sorryit’sbeenallawashout.Feelwetrespassedalotonyourtime.However—I’llgetthecarout,andyou’llbeabletocatchthethreethirty—”
“Oh,”saidMissMarple,“butwe’vegottofindthemoney,haven’twe?Youmustn’tgiveup,Mr.Rossiter.‘Ifatfirstyoudon’tsucceed,try,try,tryagain.’”
“Youmeanyou’regoingto—goontrying?”
“Strictlyspeaking,”saidMissMarple,“Ihaven’tbegunyet.‘Firstcatchyourhare—’asMrs.Beatonsaysinhercookerybook—awonderfulbookbutterriblyexpensive;mostoftherecipesbegin,‘Takeaquartofcreamandadozeneggs.’Letmesee,wherewasI?Oh,yes.Well,wehave,sotospeak,caughtourhare—theharebeing,ofcourse,yourUncleMathew,andwe’veonlygottodecidenowwherehewouldhavehiddenthemoney.Itoughttobequitesimple.”
“Simple?”demandedCharmian.
“Oh,yes,dear.I’msurehewouldhavedonetheobviousthing.Asecretdrawer—that’smysolution.”
Edwardsaiddryly,“Youcouldn’tputbarsofgoldinasecretdrawer.”
“No,no,ofcoursenot.Butthere’snoreasontobelievethemoneyisingold.”
“Healwaysusedtosay—”
“SodidmyUncleHenryabouthissafe!SoIshouldstronglysuspectthatthatwasjustablind.Diamonds—nowtheycouldbeinasecretdrawerquiteeasily.”
“Butwe’velookedinallthesecretdrawers.Wehadacabinetmakerovertoexaminethefurniture.”
“Didyou,dear?Thatwascleverofyou.Ishouldsuggestyouruncle’sowndeskwouldbethemostlikely.Wasitthetallescritoireagainstthewallthere?”
“Yes.AndI’llshowyou.”Charmianwentovertoit.Shetookdowntheflap.Insidewerepigeonholesandlittledrawers.Sheopenedasmalldoorinthecentreandtouchedaspringinsidetheleft-handdrawer.Thebottomofthecentrerecessclickedandslidforward.Charmiandrewitout,revealingashallowwellbeneath.Itwasempty.
“Nowisn’tthatacoincidence?”exclaimedMissMarple.“UncleHenryhadadeskjustlikethis,onlyhiswasburrwalnutandthisismahogany.”
“Atanyrate,”saidCharmian,“there’snothingthere,asyoucansee.”
“Iexpect,”saidMissMarple,“yourcabinetmakerwasayoungman.Hedidn’tknoweverything.Peoplewereveryartfulwhentheymadehidingplacesinthosedays.There’ssuchathingasasecretinsideasecret.”
Sheextractedahairpinfromherneatbunofgreyhair.Straighteningitout,shestuckthepointintowhatappearedtobeatinywormholeinonesideofthesecretrecess.Withalittledifficultyshepulledoutasmalldrawer.Initwasabundleoffadedlettersandafoldedpaper.
EdwardandCharmianpouncedonthefindtogether.WithtremblingfingersEdwardunfoldedthepaper.Hedroppeditwithanexclamationofdisgust.
“Adamnedcookeryrecipe.Bakedham!”
Charmianwasuntyingaribbonthatheldtheletterstogether.Shedrewoneoutandglancedatit.“Loveletters!”
MissMarplereactedwithVictoriangusto.“Howinteresting!Perhapsthereasonyourunclenevermarried.”
Charmianreadaloud:
“‘MyeverdearMathew,ImustconfessthatthetimeseemslongindeedsinceIreceivedyourlastletter.Itrytooccupymyselfwiththevarioustasksallottedtome,andoftensaytomyselfthatIamindeedfortunatetoseesomuchoftheglobe,thoughlittledidIthinkwhenIwenttoAmericathatIshouldvoyageofftothesefarislands!’“
Charmainbrokeoff.“Whereisitfrom?Oh!Hawaii!”Shewenton:
“‘Alas,thesenativesarestillfarfromseeingthelight.Theyareinanunclothedandsavagestateandspendmostoftheirtimeswimminganddancing,adorningthemselveswithgarlandsofflowers.Mr.Grayhasmadesomeconvertsbutitisuphillwork,andheandMrs.Graygetsadlydiscouraged.ItrytodoallIcantocheerandencouragehim,butI,too,amoftensadforareasonyoucanguess,dearMathew.Alas,absenceisaseveretrialforalovingheart.Yourrenewedvowsandprotestationsofaffectioncheeredmegreatly.Nowandalwaysyouhavemyfaithfulanddevotedheart,dearMathew,andIremain—Yourtruelove,BettyMartin.
“‘PS—Iaddressmyletterundercovertoourmutualfriend,MatildaGraves,asusual.Ihopeheavenwillpardonthislittlesubterfuge.’”
Edwardwhistled.“Afemalemissionary!SothatwasUncleMathew’sromance.Iwonderwhytheynevermarried?”
“Sheseemstohavegoneallovertheworld,”saidCharmian,lookingthroughtheletters.“Mauritius—allsortsofplaces.Probablydiedofyellowfeverorsomething.”
Agentlechucklemadethemstart.MissMarplewasapparentlymuchamused.“Well,well,”shesaid.“Fancythat,now!”
Shewasreadingtherecipeforbakedham.Seeingtheirenquiringglances,shereadout:“‘Bakedhamwithspinach.Takeanicepieceofgammon,stuffwithcloves,andcoverwithbrownsugar.Bakeinaslowoven.Servewithaborderofpureedspinach.’Whatdoyouthinkofthat,now?”
“Ithinkitsoundsfilthy,”saidEdward.
“No,no,actuallyitwouldbeverygood—butwhatdoyouthinkofthewholething?”
AsuddenrayoflightilluminatedEdward’sface.“Doyouthinkit’sacode—cryptogramofsomekind?”Heseizedit.“Lookhere,Charmian,itmightbe,youknow!Noreasontoputacooking-recipeinasecretdrawerotherwise.”
“Exactly,”saidMissMarple.“Very,verysignificant.”
Charmiansaid,“Iknowwhatitmightbe—invisibleink!Let’sheatit.Turnontheelectricfire.”
Edwarddidso,butnosignsofwritingappearedunderthetreatment.
MissMarplecoughed.“Ireallythink,youknow,thatyou’remakingitrathertoodifficult.Therecipeisonlyanindication,sotospeak.Itis,Ithink,thelettersthataresignificant.”
“Theletters?”
“Especially,”saidMissMarple,“thesignature.”
ButEdwardhardlyheardher.Hecalledexcitedly,“Charmian!Comehere!She’sright.See—theenvelopesareold,rightenough,butthelettersthemselveswerewrittenmuchlater.”
“Exactly,”saidMissMarple.
“They’reonlyfakeold.IbetanythingoldUncleMatfakedthemhimself—”
“Precisely,”saidMissMarple.
“Thewholething’sasell.Thereneverwasafemalemissionary.Itmustbeacode.”
“Mydear,dearchildren—there’sreallynoneedtomakeitallsodifficult.Yourunclewasreallyaverysimpleman.Hehadtohavehislittlejoke,thatwasall.”
Forthefirsttimetheygavehertheirfullattention.
“Justexactlywhatdoyoumean,MissMarple?”askedCharmian.
“Imean,dear,thatyou’reactuallyholdingthemoneyinyourhandthisminute.”
Charmianstareddown.
“Thesignature,dear.Thatgivesthewholethingaway.Therecipeisjustanindication.Shornofalltheclovesandbrownsugarandtherestofit,whatisitactually?Why,gammonandspinachtobesure!Gammonandspinach!Meaning—nonsense!Soit’sclearthatit’sthelettersthatareimportant.Andthen,ifyoutakeintoconsiderationwhatyouruncledidjustbeforehedied.Hetappedhiseye,yousaid.Well,thereyouare—thatgivesyoutheclue,yousee.”
Charmiansaid,“Arewemad,orareyou?”
“Surely,mydear,youmusthaveheardtheexpressionmeaningthatsomethingisnotatruepicture,orhasitquitediedoutnowadays?‘AllmyeyeandBettyMartin.’”
Edwardgasped,hiseyesfallingtotheletterinhishand.“BettyMartin—”
“Ofcourse,Mr.Rossiter.Asyouhavejustsaid,thereisn’t—therewasn’tanysuchperson.Theletterswerewrittenbyyouruncle,andIdaresayhegotalotoffunoutofwritingthem!Asyousay,thewritingontheenvelopesismucholder—infact,theenvelopecouldn’tbelongtotheletters,anyway,becausethepostmarkofoneyouareholdingiseighteenfifty-one.”
Shepaused.Shemadeitveryemphatic.“Eighteenfifty-one.Andthatexplainseverything,doesn’tit?”
“Nottome,”saidEdward.
“Well,ofcourse,”saidMissMarple,“Idaresayitwouldn’ttomeifitweren’tformygreat-nephewLionel.Suchadearlittleboyandapassionatestampcollector.Knowsallaboutstamps.Itwashewhotoldmeabouttherareandexpensivestampsandthatawonderfulnewfindhadcomeupforauction.AndIactuallyrememberhismentioningonestamp—aneighteenfifty-onebluetwo-cent.Itrealizedsomethingliketwenty-fivethousanddollars,Ibelieve.Fancy!Ishouldimaginethattheotherstampsaresomethingalsorareandexpensive.Nodoubtyouruncleboughtthroughdealersandwascarefulto‘coverhistracks,’astheysayindetectivestories.”
Edwardgroaned.Hesatdownandburiedhisfaceinhishands.
“What’sthematter?”demandedCharmian.
“Nothing.It’sonlytheawfulthoughtthat,butforMissMarple,wemighthaveburnedtheselettersinadecent,gentlemanlyway!”
“Ah,”saidMissMarple,“that’sjustwhattheseoldgentlemenwhoarefondoftheirjokesneverrealize.UncleHenry,Iremember,sentafavouritenieceafive-poundnoteforaChristmaspresent.HeputitinaChristmascard,gummedthecardtogether,andwroteonit,‘Loveandbestwishes.AfraidthisisallIcanmanagethisyear.’”
“She,poorgirl,wasannoyedatwhatshethoughtwashismeannessandthrewitallstraightintothefire;then,ofcourse,hehadtogiveheranother.”
Edward’sfeelingstowardsUncleHenryhadsufferedanabruptandcompletechange.
“MissMarple,”hesaid,“I’mgoingtogetabottleofchampagne.We’llalldrinkthehealthofyourUncleHenry.”
Sixteen
THECASEOFTHEPERFECTMAID
“Oh,ifyouplease,madam,couldIspeaktoyouamoment?”
Itmightbethoughtthatthisrequestwasinthenatureofanabsurdity,sinceEdna,MissMarple’slittlemaid,wasactuallyspeakingtohermistressatthemoment.
Recognizingtheidiom,however,MissMarplesaidpromptly,“Certainly,Edna,comeinandshutthedoor.Whatisit?”
Obedientlyshuttingthedoor,Ednaadvancedintotheroom,pleatedthecornerofherapronbetweenherfingers,andswallowedonceortwice.
“Yes,Edna?”saidMissMarpleencouragingly.
“Oh,please,ma’am,it’smycousin,Gladdie.”
“Dearme,”saidMissMarple,hermindleapingtotheworst—and,alas,themostusualconclusion.“Not—notintrouble?”
Ednahastenedtoreassureher.“Oh,no,ma’am,nothingofthatkind.Gladdie’snotthatkindofgirl.It’sjustthatshe’supset.Yousee,she’slostherplace.”
“Dearme,Iamsorrytohearthat.ShewasatOldHall,wasn’tshe,withtheMiss—Misses—Skinner?”
“Yes,ma’am,that’sright,ma’am.AndGladdie’sveryupsetaboutit—veryupsetindeed.”
“Gladyshaschangedplacesratheroftenbefore,though,hasn’tshe?”
“Oh,yes,ma’am.She’salwaysoneforachange,Gladdieis.Sheneverseemstogetreallysettled,ifyouknowwhatImean.Butshe’salwaysbeentheonetogivethenotice,yousee!”
“Andthistimeit’stheotherwayround?”askedMissMarpledryly.
“Yes,ma’am,andit’supsetGladdiesomethingawful.”
MissMarplelookedslightlysurprised.HerrecollectionofGladys,whohadoccasionallycometodrinkteainthekitchenonher“daysout,”wasastout,gigglinggirlofunshakablyequabletemperament.
Ednawenton.“Yousee,ma’am,it’sthewayithappened—thewayMissSkinnerlooked.”
“How,”enquiredMissMarplepatiently,“didMissSkinnerlook?”
ThistimeEdnagotwellawaywithhernewsbulletin.
“Oh,ma’am,itwaseversuchashocktoGladdie.Yousee,oneofMissEmily’sbroocheswasmissing,andsuchahueandcryforitasneverwas,andofcoursenobodylikesathinglikethattohappen;it’supsetting,ma’am,ifyouknowwhatImean.AndGladdie’shelpedsearcheverywhere,andtherewasMissLaviniasayingshewasgoingtothepoliceaboutit,andthenitturnedupagain,pushedrighttothebackofadrawerinthedressingtable,andverythankfulGladdiewas.
“Andtheverynextdayaseverwasaplategotbroken,andMissLaviniashebouncedoutrightawayandtoldGladdietotakeamonth’snotice.AndwhatGladdiefeelsisitcouldn’thavebeentheplateandthatMissLaviniawasjustmakinganexcuseofthat,andthatitmustbebecauseofthebroochandtheythinkasshetookitandputitbackwhenthepolicewasmentioned,andGladdiewouldn’tdosuchathing,notnevershewouldn’t,andwhatshefeelsisasitwillgetroundandtellagainstherandit’saveryseriousthingforagirl,asyouknow,ma’am.”
MissMarplenodded.Thoughhavingnoparticularlikingforthebouncing,self-opinionatedGladys,shewasquitesureofthegirl’sintrinsichonestyandcouldwellimaginethattheaffairmusthaveupsether.
Ednasaidwistfully,“Isuppose,ma’am,thereisn’tanythingyoucoulddoaboutit?Gladdie’sineversuchataking.”
“Tellhernottobesilly,”saidMissMarplecrisply.“Ifshedidn’ttakethebrooch—whichI’msureshedidn’t—thenshehasnocausetobeupset.”
“It’llgetabout,”saidEdnadismally.
MissMarplesaid,“I—er—amgoingupthatwaythisafternoon.I’llhaveawordwiththeMissesSkinner.”
“Oh,thankyou,madam,”saidEdna.
OldHallwasabigVictorianhousesurroundedbywoodsandparkland.Sinceithadbeenprovedunlettableandunsaleableasitwas,anenterprisingspeculatorhaddivideditintofourflatswithacentralhot-watersystem,andtheuseof“thegrounds”tobeheldincommonbythetenants.Theexperimenthadbeensatisfactory.Arichandeccentricoldladyandhermaidoccupiedoneflat.Theoldladyhadapassionforbirdsandentertainedafeatheredgatheringtomealseveryday.AretiredIndianjudgeandhiswiferentedasecond.Averyyoungcouple,recentlymarried,occupiedthethird,andthefourthhadbeentakenonlytwomonthsagobytwomaidenladiesofthenameofSkinner.Thefoursetsoftenantswereonlyonthemostdistanttermswitheachother,sincenoneofthemhadanythingincommon.Thelandlordhadbeenheardtosaythatthiswasanexcellentthing.Whathedreadedwerefriendshipsfollowedbyestrangementsandsubsequentcomplaintstohim.
MissMarplewasacquaintedwithallthetenants,thoughsheknewnoneofthemwell.TheelderMissSkinner,MissLavinia,waswhatmightbetermedtheworkingmemberofthefirm,MissEmily,theyounger,spentmostofhertimeinbedsufferingfromvariouscomplaintswhich,intheopinionofSt.MaryMead,werelargelyimaginary.OnlyMissLaviniabelieveddevoutlyinhersister’smartyrdomandpatienceunderaffliction,andwillinglyranerrandsandtrottedupanddowntothevillageforthingsthat“mysisterhadsuddenlyfancied.”
ItwastheviewofSt.MaryMeadthatifMissEmilysufferedhalfasmuchasshesaidshedid,shewouldhavesentforDoctorHaydocklongago.ButMissEmily,whenthiswashintedtoher,shuthereyesinasuperiorwayandmurmuredthathercasewasnotasimpleone—thebestspecialistsinLondonhadbeenbaffledbyit—andthatawonderfulnewmanhadputheronamostrevolutionarycourseoftreatmentandthatshereallyhopedherhealthwouldimproveunderit.NohumdrumGPcouldpossiblyunderstandhercase.
“Andit’smyopinion,”saidtheoutspokenMissHartnell,“thatshe’sverywisenottosendforhim.DearDoctorHaydock,inthatbreezymannerofhis,wouldtellherthattherewasnothingthematterwithherandtogetupandnotmakeafuss!Doheralotofgood!”
Failingsucharbitrarytreatment,however,MissEmilycontinuedtolieonsofas,tosurroundherselfwithstrangelittlepillboxes,andtorejectnearlyeverythingthathadbeencookedforherandaskforsomethingelse—usuallysomethingdifficultandinconvenienttoget.
ThedoorwasopenedtoMissMarpleby“Gladdie,”lookingmoredepressedthanMissMarplehadeverthoughtpossible.Inthesittingroom(aquarterofthelatedrawingroom,whichhadbeenpartitionedintoadiningroom,drawingroom,bathroom,andhousemaid’scupboard),MissLaviniarosetogreetMissMarple.
LaviniaSkinnerwasatall,gaunt,bonyfemaleoffifty.Shehadagruffvoiceandanabruptmanner.
“Nicetoseeyou,”shesaid.“Emily’slyingdown—feelinglowtoday,poordear.Hopeshe’llseeyou,itwouldcheerherup,buttherearetimeswhenshedoesn’tfeeluptoseeinganybody.Poordear,she’swonderfullypatient.”
MissMarplerespondedpolitely.ServantswerethemaintopicofconversationinSt.MaryMead,soitwasnotdifficulttoleadtheconversationinthatdirection.MissMarplesaidshehadheardthatthatnicegirl,GladysHolmes,wasleaving.
MissLavinianodded.“Wednesdayweek.Brokethings,youknow.Can’thavethat.”
MissMarplesighedandsaidweallhadtoputupwiththingsnowadays.Itwassodifficulttogetgirlstocometothecountry.DidMissSkinnerreallythinkitwaswisetopartwithGladys?
“Knowit’sdifficulttogetservants,”admittedMissLavinia.“TheDevereuxshaven’tgotanybody—butthen,Idon’twonder—alwaysquarrelling,jazzonallnight—mealsanytime—thatgirlknowsnothingofhousekeeping.Ipityherhusband!ThentheLarkinshavejustlosttheirmaid.Ofcourse,whatwiththejudge’sIndiantemperandhiswantingchotahazri,ashecallsit,atsixinthemorningandMrs.Larkinalwaysfussing,Idon’twonderatthat,either.Mrs.Carmichael’sJanetisafixtureofcourse—thoughinmyopinionshe’sthemostdisagreeablewoman,andabsolutelybulliestheoldlady.”
“Thendon’tyouthinkyoumightreconsideryourdecisionaboutGladys?Shereallyisanicegirl.Iknowallherfamily;veryhonestandsuperior.”
MissLaviniashookherhead.
“I’vegotmyreasons,”shesaidimportantly.
MissMarplemurmured,“Youmissedabrooch,Iunderstand—”
“Now,whohasbeentalking?Isupposethegirlhas.Quitefrankly,I’malmostcertainshetookit.Andthengotfrightenedandputitback—but,ofcourse,onecan’tsayanythingunlessoneissure.”Shechangedthesubject.“DocomeandseeEmily,MissMarple.I’msureitwoulddohergood.”
MissMarplefollowedmeeklytowhereMissLaviniaknockedonadoor,wasbiddenenter,andusheredherguestintothebestroomintheflat,mostofthelightofwhichwasexcludedbyhalf-drawnblinds.MissEmilywaslyinginbed,apparentlyenjoyingthehalfgloomandherownindefinitesufferings.
Thedimlightshowedhertobeathin,indecisive-lookingcreature,withagooddealofgreyish-yellowhairuntidilywoundaroundherheadanderuptingintocurls,thewholethinglookinglikeabird’snestofwhichnoself-respectingbirdcouldbeproud.TherewasasmellintheroomofEaudeCologne,stalebiscuits,andcamphor.
Withhalf-closedeyesandathin,weakvoice,EmilySkinnerexplainedthatthiswas“oneofherbaddays.”
“Theworstofillhealthis,”saidMissEmilyinamelancholytone,“thatoneknowswhataburdenoneistoeveryonearoundone.
“Laviniaisverygoodtome.Lavviedear,Idosohategivingtroublebutifmyhot-waterbottlecouldonlybefilledinthewayIlikeit—toofullitweighsonmeso—ontheotherhand,ifitisnotsufficientlyfilled,itgetscoldimmediately!”
“I’msorry,dear.Giveittome.Iwillemptyalittleout.”
“Perhaps,ifyou’redoingthat,itmightberefilled.Therearenorusksinthehouse,Isuppose—no,no,itdoesn’tmatter.Icandowithout.Someweakteaandasliceoflemon—nolemons?No,really,Icouldn’tdrinkteawithoutlemon.Ithinkthemilkwasslightlyturnedthismorning.Ithasputmeagainstmilkinmytea.Itdoesn’tmatter.Icandowithoutmytea.OnlyIdofeelsoweak.Oysters,theysay,arenourishing.IwonderifIcouldfancyafew?No,no,toomuchbothertogetholdofthemsolateintheday.Icanfastuntiltomorrow.”
Lavinialefttheroommurmuringsomethingincoherentaboutbicyclingdowntothevillage.
MissEmilysmiledfeeblyatherguestandremarkedthatshedidhategivinganyoneanytrouble.
MissMarpletoldEdnathateveningthatshewasafraidherembassyhadmetwithnosuccess.
ShewasrathertroubledtofindthatrumoursastoGladys’sdishonestywerealreadygoingaroundthevillage.
Inthepostoffice,MissWetherbytackledher.“MydearJane,theygaveherawrittenreferencesayingshewaswillingandsoberandrespectable,butsayingnothingabouthonesty.Thatseemstomemostsignificant!Iheartherewassometroubleaboutabrooch.Ithinktheremustbesomethinginit,youknow,becauseonedoesn’tletaservantgonowadaysunlessit’ssomethingrathergrave.They’llfinditmostdifficulttogetanyoneelse.GirlssimplywillnotgotoOldHall.They’renervouscominghomeontheirdaysout.You’llsee,theSkinnerswon’tfindanyoneelse,andthen,perhaps,thatdreadfulhypochondriacsisterwillhavetogetupanddosomething!”
GreatwasthechagrinofthevillagewhenitwasmadeknownthattheMissesSkinnerhadengaged,fromanagency,anewmaidwho,byallaccounts,wasaperfectparagon.
“Athree-years”referencerecommendinghermostwarmly,sheprefersthecountry,andactuallyaskslesswagesthanGladys.Ireallyfeelwehavebeenmostfortunate.”
“Well,really,”saidMissMarple,towhomthesedetailswereimpartedbyMissLaviniainthefishmonger’sshop.“Itdoesseemtoogoodtobetrue.”
ItthenbecametheopinionofSt.MaryMeadthattheparagonwouldcryoffatthelastminuteandfailtoarrive.
Noneoftheseprognosticationscametrue,however,andthevillagewasabletoobservethedomestictreasure,byname,MaryHiggins,drivingthroughthevillageinReed’staxitoOldHall.Ithadtobeadmittedthatherappearancewasgood.Amostrespectable-lookingwoman,veryneatlydressed.
WhenMissMarplenextvisitedOldHall,ontheoccasionofrecruitingstall-holdersforthevicaragefete,MaryHigginsopenedthedoor.Shewascertainlyamostsuperior-lookingmaid,ataguessfortyyearsofage,withneatblackhair,rosycheeks,aplumpfigurediscreetlyarrayedinblackwithawhiteapronandcap—“quitethegood,old-fashionedtypeofservant,”asMissMarpleexplainedafterwards,andwiththeproper,inaudiblerespectfulvoice,sodifferentfromtheloudbutadenoidalaccentsofGladys.
MissLaviniawaslookingfarlessharassedthanusualand,althoughsheregrettedthatshecouldnottakeastallowingtoherpreoccupationwithhersister,sheneverthelesstenderedahandsomemonetarycontribution,andpromisedtoproduceaconsignmentofpen-wipersandbabies’socks.
MissMarplecommentedonherairofwell-being.
“IreallyfeelIoweagreatdealtoMary,IamsothankfulIhadtheresolutiontogetridofthatothergirl.Maryisreallyinvaluable.Cooksnicelyandwaitsbeautifullyandkeepsourlittleflatscrupulouslyclean—mattressesturnedovereveryday.AndsheisreallywonderfulwithEmily!”
MissMarplehastilyenquiredafterEmily.
“Oh,poordear,shehasbeenverymuchundertheweatherlately.Shecan’thelpit,ofcourse,butitreallymakesthingsalittledifficultsometimes.Wantingcertainthingscookedandthen,whentheycome,sayingshecan’teatnow—andthenwantingthemagainhalfanhourlaterandeverythingspoiledandhavingtobedoneagain.Itmakes,ofcourse,alotofwork—butfortunatelyMarydoesnotseemtomindatall.She’susedtowaitingoninvalids,shesays,andunderstandsthem.Itissuchacomfort.”
“Dearme,”saidMissMarple.“Youarefortunate.”
“Yes,indeed.IreallyfeelMaryhasbeensenttousasananswertoprayer.”
“Shesoundstome,”saidMissMarple,“almosttoogoodtobetrue.Ishould—well,IshouldbealittlecarefulifIwereyou.”
LaviniaSkinnerfailedtoperceivethepointofthisremark.Shesaid,“Oh!IassureyouIdoallIcantomakehercomfortable.Idon’tknowwhatIshoulddoifsheleft.”
“Idon’texpectshe’llleaveuntilshe’sreadytoleave,”saidMissMarpleandstaredveryhardatherhostess.
MissLaviniasaid,“Ifonehasnodomesticworries,ittakessuchaloadoffone’smind,doesn’tit?HowisyourlittleEdnashaping?”
“She’sdoingquitenicely.Notmuchhead,ofcourse.NotlikeyourMary.Still,IdoknowallaboutEdnabecauseshe’savillagegirl.”
Asshewentoutintothehallsheheardtheinvalid’svoicefretfullyraised.“Thiscompresshasbeenallowedtogetquitedry—DoctorAllertonparticularlysaidmoisturecontinuallyrenewed.There,there,leaveit.Iwantacupofteaandaboiledegg—boiledonlythreeminutesandahalf,remember,andsendMissLaviniatome.”
TheefficientMaryemergedfromthebedroomand,sayingtoLavinia,“MissEmilyisaskingforyou,madam,”proceededtoopenthedoorforMissMarple,helpingherintohercoatandhandingherherumbrellainthemostirreproachablefashion.
MissMarpletooktheumbrella,droppedit,triedtopickitup,anddroppedherbag,whichflewopen.Marypolitelyretrievedvariousoddsandends—ahandkerchief,anengagementbook,anold-fashionedleatherpurse,twoshillings,threepennies,andastripedpieceofpeppermintrock.
MissMarplereceivedthelastwithsomesignsofconfusion.
“Oh,dear,thatmusthavebeenMrs.Clement’slittleboy.Hewassuckingit,Iremember,andhetookmybagtoplaywith.Hemusthaveputitinside.It’sterriblysticky,isn’tit?”
“ShallItakeit,madam?”
“Oh,wouldyou?Thankyousomuch.”
Marystoopedtoretrievethelastitem,asmallmirror,uponrecoveringwhichMissMarpleexclaimedfervently,“Howlucky,now,thatthatisn’tbroken.”
Shethereupondeparted,Marystandingpolitelybythedoorholdingapieceofstripedrockwithacompletelyexpressionlessface.
FortendayslongerSt.MaryMeadhadtoendurehearingoftheexcellenciesofMissLavinia’sandMissEmily’streasure.
Ontheeleventhday,thevillageawoketoitsbigthrill.
Mary,theparagon,wasmissing!Herbedhadnotbeensleptin,andthefrontdoorwasfoundajar.Shehadslippedoutquietlyduringthenight.
AndnotMaryalonewasmissing!TwobroochesandfiveringsofMissLavinia’s;threerings,apendant,abracelet,andfourbroochesofMissEmily’sweremissing,also!
Itwasthebeginningofachapterofcatastrophe.
YoungMrs.Devereuxhadlostherdiamondswhichshekeptinanunlockeddrawerandalsosomevaluablefursgiventoherasaweddingpresent.Thejudgeandhiswifealsohadhadjewellerytakenandacertainamountofmoney.Mrs.Carmichaelwasthegreatestsufferer.Notonlyhadshesomeveryvaluablejewelsbutshealsokeptintheflatalargesumofmoneywhichhadgone.IthadbeenJanet’seveningout,andhermistresswasinthehabitofwalkingroundthegardensatduskcallingtothebirdsandscatteringcrumbs.ItseemedclearthatMary,theperfectmaid,hadhadkeystofitalltheflats!
Therewas,itmustbeconfessed,acertainamountofill-naturedpleasureinSt.MaryMead.MissLaviniahadboastedsomuchofhermarvellousMary.
“Andallthetime,mydear,justacommonthief!”
Interestingrevelationsfollowed.NotonlyhadMarydisappearedintotheblue,buttheagencywhohadprovidedherandvouchedforhercredentialswasalarmedtofindthattheMaryHigginswhohadappliedtothemandwhosereferencestheyhadtakenuphad,toallintentsandpurposes,neverexisted.Itwasthenameofabonafideservantwhohadlivedwiththebonafidesisterofadean,buttherealMaryHigginswasexistingpeacefullyinaplaceinCornwall.
“Damnedclever,thewholething,”InspectorSlackwasforcedtoadmit.“And,ifyouaskme,thatwomanworkswithagang.TherewasacaseofmuchthesamekindinNorthumberlandayearago.Stuffwasnevertraced,andtheynevercaughther.However,we’lldobetterthanthatinMuchBenham!”
InspectorSlackwasalwaysaconfidentman.
Nevertheless,weekspassed,andMaryHigginsremainedtriumphantlyatlarge.InvainInspectorSlackredoubledthatenergythatsobeliedhisname.
MissLaviniaremainedtearful.MissEmilywassoupset,andfeltsoalarmedbyherconditionthatsheactuallysentforDoctorHaydock.
ThewholeofthevillagewasterriblyanxioustoknowwhathethoughtofMissEmily’sclaimstoillhealth,butnaturallycouldnotaskhim.Satisfactorydatacametohandonthesubject,however,throughMr.Meek,thechemist’sassistant,whowaswalkingoutwithClara,Mrs.Price-Ridley’smaid.ItwasthenknownthatDoctorHaydockhadprescribedamixtureofasafoetidaandvalerianwhich,accordingtoMr.Meek,wasthestockremedyformalingerersinthearmy!
SoonafterwardsitwaslearnedthatMissEmily,notrelishingthemedicalattentionshehadhad,wasdeclaringthatinthestateofherhealthshefeltitherdutytobenearthespecialistinLondonwhounderstoodhercase.Itwas,shesaid,onlyfairtoLavinia.
Theflatwasputupforsubletting.
ItwasafewdaysafterthatthatMissMarple,ratherpinkandflustered,calledatthepolicestationinMuchBenhamandaskedforInspectorSlack.
InspectorSlackdidnotlikeMissMarple.ButhewasawarethattheChiefConstable,ColonelMelchett,didnotsharethatopinion.Rathergrudgingly,therefore,hereceivedher.
“Goodafternoon,MissMarple,whatcanIdoforyou?”
“Oh,dear,”saidMissMarple,“I’mafraidyou’reinahurry.”
“Lotsofworkon,”saidInspectorSlack,“butIcanspareafewmoments.”
“Ohdear,”saidMissMarple.“IhopeIshallbeabletoputwhatIsayproperly.Sodifficult,youknow,toexplainoneself,don’tyouthink?No,perhapsyoudon’t.Butyousee,nothavingbeeneducatedinthemodernstyle—justagoverness,youknow,whotaughtonethedatesofthekingsofEnglandandgeneralknowledge—DoctorBrewer—threekindsofdiseasesofwheat—blight,mildew—nowwhatwasthethird—wasitsmut?”
“Doyouwanttotalkaboutsmut?”askedInspectorSlackandthenblushed.
“Oh,no,no.”MissMarplehastilydisclaimedanywishtotalkaboutsmut.“Justanillustration,youknow.Andhowneedlesaremade,andallthat.Discursive,youknow,butnotteachingonetokeeptothepoint.WhichiswhatIwanttodo.It’saboutMissSkinner’smaid,Gladys,youknow.”
“MaryHiggins,”saidInspectorSlack.
“Oh,yes,thesecondmaid.Butit’sGladysHolmesImean—ratheranimpertinentgirlandfartoopleasedwithherselfbutreallystrictlyhonest,andit’ssoimportantthatthatshouldberecognized.”
“NochargeagainsthersofarasIknow,”saidtheinspector.
“No,Iknowthereisn’tacharge—butthatmakesitworse.Because,yousee,peoplegoonthinkingthings.Oh,dear—IknewIshouldexplainthingsbadly.WhatIreallymeanisthattheimportantthingistofindMaryHiggins.”
“Certainly,”saidInspectorSlack.“Haveyouanyideasonthesubject?”
“Well,asamatteroffact,Ihave,”saidMissMarple.“MayIaskyouaquestion?Arefingerprintsofnousetoyou?”
“Ah,”saidInspectorSlack,“that’swhereshewasabittooartfulforus.Didmostofherworkinrubberglovesorhousemaid’sgloves,itseems.Andshe’dbeencareful—wipedoffeverythinginherbedroomandonthesink.Couldn’tfindasinglefingerprintintheplace!”
“Ifyoudidhavefingerprints,wouldithelp?”
“Itmight,madam.TheymaybeknownattheYard.Thisisn’therfirstjob,I’dsay!”
MissMarplenoddedbrightly.Sheopenedherbagandextractedasmallcardboardbox.Insideit,wedgedincottonwool,wasasmallmirror.
“Frommyhandbag,”saidMissMarple.“Themaid’sprintsareonit.Ithinktheyshouldbesatisfactory—shetouchedanextremelystickysubstanceamomentpreviously.”
InspectorSlackstared.“Didyougetherfingerprintsonpurpose?”
“Ofcourse.”
“Yoususpectedherthen?”
“Well,youknow,itdidstrikemethatshewasalittletoogoodtobetrue.IpracticallytoldMissLaviniaso.Butshesimplywouldn’ttakethehint!I’mafraid,youknow,Inspector,thatIdon’tbelieveinparagons.Mostofushaveourfaults—anddomesticserviceshowsthemupveryquickly!”
“Well,”saidInspectorSlack,recoveringhisbalance,“I’mobligedtoyou,I’msure.We’llsendtheseuptotheYardandseewhattheyhavetosay.”
Hestopped.MissMarplehadputherheadalittleononesideandwasregardinghimwithagooddealofmeaning.
“Youwouldn’tconsider,Isuppose,Inspector,lookingalittlenearerhome?”
“Whatdoyoumean,MissMarple?”
“It’sverydifficulttoexplain,butwhenyoucomeacrossapeculiarthingyounoticeit.Although,often,peculiarthingsmaybethemeresttrifles.I’vefeltthatallalong,youknow;ImeanaboutGladysandthebrooch.She’sanhonestgirl;shedidn’ttakethatbrooch.ThenwhydidMissSkinnerthinkshedid?MissSkinner’snotafool;farfromit!Whywasshesoanxioustoletagirlgowhowasagoodservantwhenservantsarehardtoget?Itwaspeculiar,youknow.SoIwondered.Iwonderedagooddeal.AndInoticedanotherpeculiarthing!MissEmily’sahypochondriac,butshe’sthefirsthypochondriacwhohasn’tsentforsomedoctororotheratonce.Hypochondriacslovedoctors,MissEmilydidn’t!”
“Whatareyousuggesting,MissMarple?”
“Well,I’msuggesting,youknow,thatMissLaviniaandMissEmilyarepeculiarpeople.MissEmilyspendsnearlyallhertimeinadarkroom.Andifthathairofhersisn’tawigI—I’lleatmyownbackswitch!AndwhatIsayisthis—it’sperfectlypossibleforathin,pale,grey-haired,whiningwomantobethesameasablack-haired,rosy-cheeked,plumpwoman.AndnobodythatIcanfindeversawMissEmilyandMaryHigginsatoneandthesametime.
“Plentyoftimetogetimpressionsofallthekeys,plentyoftimetofindoutallabouttheothertenants,andthen—getridofthelocalgirl.MissEmilytakesabriskwalkacrosscountryonenightandarrivesatthestationasMaryHigginsnextday.Andthen,attherightmoment,MaryHigginsdisappears,andoffgoesthehueandcryafterher.I’lltellyouwhereyou’llfindher,Inspector.OnMissEmilySkinner’ssofa!Getherfingerprintsifyoudon’tbelieveme,butyou’llfindI’mright!Acoupleofcleverthieves,that’swhattheSkinnersare—andnodoubtinleaguewithacleverpostandrailsorfenceorwhateveryoucallit.Buttheywon’tgetawaywithitthistime!I’mnotgoingtohaveoneofourvillagegirls’characterforhonestytakenawaylikethat!GladysHolmesisashonestastheday,andeverybody’sgoingtoknowit!Goodafternoon!”
MissMarplehadstalkedoutbeforeInspectorSlackhadrecovered.
“Whew?”hemuttered.“Iwonderifshe’sright?”
HesoonfoundoutthatMissMarplewasrightagain.
ColonelMelchettcongratulatedSlackonhisefficiency,andMissMarplehadGladyscometoteawithEdnaandspoketoherseriouslyonsettlingdowninagoodsituationwhenshegotone.
Seventeen
THECASEOFTHECARETAKER
“Well,”demandedDoctorHaydockofhispatient.“Andhowgoesittoday?”
MissMarplesmiledathimwanlyfrompillows.
“Isuppose,really,thatI’mbetter,”sheadmitted,“butIfeelsoterriblydepressed.Ican’thelpfeelinghowmuchbetteritwouldhavebeenifIhaddied.Afterall,I’manoldwoman.Nobodywantsmeorcaresaboutme.”
DoctorHaydockinterruptedwithhisusualbrusqueness.“Yes,yes,typicalafter-reactionofthistypeofflu.Whatyouneedissomethingtotakeyououtofyourself.Amentaltonic.”
MissMarplesighedandshookherhead.
“Andwhat’smore,”continuedDoctorHaydock,“I’vebroughtmymedicinewithme!”
Hetossedalongenvelopeontothebed
“Justthethingforyou.Thekindofpuzzlethatisrightupyourstreet.”
“Apuzzle?”MissMarplelookedinterested.
“Literaryeffortofmine,”saidthedoctor,blushingalittle.“Triedtomakearegularstoryofit.‘Hesaid,’‘shesaid,’‘thegirlthought,’etc.Factsofthestoryaretrue.”
“Butwhyapuzzle?”askedMissMarple
DoctorHaydockgrinned.“Becausetheinterpretationisuptoyou.Iwanttoseeifyou’reascleverasyoualwaysmakeout.”
WiththatParthianshothedeparted.
MissMarplepickedupthemanuscriptandbegantoread.
“Andwhereisthebride?”askedMissHarmongenially.
ThevillagewasallagogtoseetherichandbeautifulyoungwifethatHarryLaxtonhadbroughtbackfromabroad.TherewasageneralindulgentfeelingthatHarry—wickedyoungscapegrace—hadhadalltheluck.EveryonehadalwaysfeltindulgenttowardsHarry.EventheownersofwindowsthathadsufferedfromhisindiscriminateuseofacatapulthadfoundtheirindignationdissipatedbyyoungHarry’sabjectexpressionofregret.Hehadbrokenwindows,robbedorchards,poachedrabbits,andlaterhadrunintodebt,gotentangledwiththelocaltobacconist’sdaughter—beendisentangledandsentofftoAfrica—andthevillageasrepresentedbyvariousageingspinstershadmurmuredindulgently.“Ah,well!Wildoats!He’llsettledown!”
Andnow,sureenough,theprodigalhadreturned—notinaffliction,butintriumph.HarryLaxtonhad“madegood”asthesayinggoes.Hehadpulledhimselftogether,workedhard,andhadfinallymetandsuccessfullywooedayoungAnglo-Frenchgirlwhowasthepossessorofaconsiderablefortune.
HarrymighthavelivedinLondon,orpurchasedanestateinsomefashionablehuntingcounty,buthepreferredtocomebacktothepartoftheworldthatwashometohim.Andthere,inthemostromanticway,hepurchasedthederelictestateinthedowerhouseofwhichhehadpassedhischildhood.
KingsdeanHousehadbeenunoccupiedfornearlyseventyyears.Ithadgraduallyfallenintodecayandabandon.Anelderlycaretakerandhiswifelivedintheonehabitablecornerofit.Itwasavast,unprepossessinggrandiosemansion,thegardensovergrownwithrankvegetationandthetreeshemmingitinlikesomegloomyenchanter’sden.
Thedowerhousewasapleasant,unpretentioushouseandhadbeenletforalongtermofyearstoMajorLaxton,Harry’sfather.Asaboy,HarryhadroamedovertheKingsdeanestateandkneweveryinchofthetangledwoods,andtheoldhouseitselfhadalwaysfascinatedhim.
MajorLaxtonhaddiedsomeyearsago,soitmighthavebeenthoughtthatHarrywouldhavehadnotiestobringhimback—neverthelessitwastothehomeofhisboyhoodthatHarrybroughthisbride.TheruinedoldKingsdeanHousewaspulleddown.Anarmyofbuildersandcontractorsswoopeddownupontheplace,andinalmostamiraculouslyshortspaceoftime—somarvellouslydoeswealthtell—thenewhouserosewhiteandgleamingamongthetrees.
Nextcameaposseofgardenersandafterthemaprocessionoffurniturevans.
Thehousewasready.Servantsarrived.Lastly,acostlylimousinedepositedHarryandMrs.Harryatthefrontdoor.
Thevillagerushedtocall,andMrs.Price,whoownedthelargesthouse,andwhoconsideredherselftoleadsocietyintheplace,sentoutcardsofinvitationforaparty“tomeetthebride.”
Itwasagreatevent.Severalladieshadnewfrocksfortheoccasion.Everyonewasexcited,curious,anxioustoseethisfabulouscreature.Theysaiditwasallsolikeafairystory!
MissHarmon,weather-beaten,heartyspinster,threwoutherquestionasshesqueezedherwaythroughthecrowdeddrawingroomdoor.LittleMissBrent,athin,acidulatedspinster,flutteredoutinformation.
“Oh,mydear,quitecharming.Suchprettymanners.Andquiteyoung.Really,youknow,itmakesonefeelquiteenvioustoseesomeonewhohaseverythinglikethat.Goodlooksandmoneyandbreeding—mostdistinguished,nothingintheleastcommonabouther—anddearHarrysodevoted!”
“Ah,”saidMissHarmon,“it’searlydaysyet!”
MissBrent’sthinnosequiveredappreciatively.“Oh,mydear,doyoureallythink—”
“WeallknowwhatHarryis,”saidMissHarmon.
“Weknowwhathewas!ButIexpectnow—”
“Ah,”saidMissHarmon,“menarealwaysthesame.Onceagaydeceiver,alwaysagaydeceiver.Iknowthem.”
“Dear,dear.Pooryoungthing.”MissBrentlookedmuchhappier.“Yes,Iexpectshe’llhavetroublewithhim.Someoneoughtreallytowarnher.Iwonderifshe’sheardanythingoftheoldstory?”
“Itseemssoveryunfair,”saidMissBrent,“thatsheshouldknownothing.Soawkward.Especiallywithonlytheonechemist’sshopinthevillage.”
Fortheerstwhiletobacconist’sdaughterwasnowmarriedtoMr.Edge,thechemist.
“Itwouldbesomuchnicer,”saidMissBrent,“ifMrs.LaxtonweretodealwithBootsinMuchBenham.”
“Idaresay,”saidMissHarmon,“thatHarryLaxtonwillsuggestthathimself.”
Andagainasignificantlookpassedbetweenthem.
“ButIcertainlythink,”saidMissHarmon,“thatsheoughttoknow.”
“Beasts!”saidClariceVaneindignantlytoheruncle,DoctorHaydock.“Absolutebeastssomepeopleare.”
Helookedathercuriously.
Shewasatall,darkgirl,handsome,warmheartedandimpulsive.Herbigbrowneyeswerealightnowwithindignationasshesaid,“Allthesecats—sayingthings—hintingthings.”
“AboutHarryLaxton?”
“Yes,abouthisaffairwiththetobacconist’sdaughter.”
“Oh,that!”Thedoctorshruggedhisshoulders.“Agreatmanyyoungmenhaveaffairsofthatkind.”
“Ofcoursetheydo.Andit’sallover.Sowhyharponit?Andbringitupyearsafter?It’slikeghoulsfeastingondeadbodies.”
“Idaresay,mydear,itdoesseemlikethattoyou.Butyousee,theyhaveverylittletotalkaboutdownhere,andsoI’mafraidtheydotendtodwelluponpastscandals.ButI’mcurioustoknowwhyitupsetsyousomuch?”
ClariceVanebitherlipandflushed.Shesaid,inacuriouslymuffledvoice.“They—theylooksohappy.TheLaxtons,Imean.They’reyoungandinlove,andit’sallsolovelyforthem.Ihatetothinkofitbeingspoiledbywhispersandhintsandinnuendoesandgeneralbeastliness.”
“H’m.Isee.”
Claricewenton.“Hewastalkingtomejustnow.He’ssohappyandeagerandexcitedand—yes,thrilled—athavinggothisheart’sdesireandrebuiltKingsdean.He’slikeachildaboutitall.Andshe—well,Idon’tsupposeanythinghasevergonewronginherwholelife.She’salwayshadeverything.You’veseenher.Whatdidyouthinkofher?”
Thedoctordidnotansweratonce.Forotherpeople,LouiseLaxtonmightbeanobjectofenvy.Aspoileddarlingoffortune.Tohimshehadbroughtonlytherefrainofapopularsongheardmanyyearsago,Poorlittlerichgirl—
Asmall,delicatefigure,withflaxenhaircurledratherstifflyroundherfaceandbig,wistfulblueeyes.
Louisewasdroopingalittle.Thelongstreamofcongratulationshadtiredher.Shewashopingitmightsoonbetimetogo.Perhaps,evennow,Harrymightsayso.Shelookedathimsideways.Sotallandbroadshoulderedwithhiseagerpleasureinthishorrible,dullparty.
Poorlittlerichgirl—
“Ooph!”Itwasasighofrelief.
Harryturnedtolookathiswifeamusedly.Theyweredrivingawayfromtheparty.
Shesaid,“Darling,whatafrightfulparty!”
Harrylaughed.“Yes,prettyterrible.Nevermind,mysweet.Ithadtobedone,youknow.AlltheseoldpussiesknewmewhenIlivedhereasaboy.They’dhavebeenterriblydisappointednottohavegotalookatyoucloseup.”
Louisemadeagrimace.Shesaid,“Shallwehavetoseealotofthem?”
“What?Oh,no.They’llcomeandmakeceremoniouscallswithcardcases,andyou’llreturnthecallsandthenyouneedn’tbotheranymore.Youcanhaveyourownfriendsdownorwhateveryoulike.”
Louisesaid,afteraminuteortwo,“Isn’tthereanyoneamusinglivingdownhere?”
“Oh,yes.There’stheCounty,youknow.Thoughyoumayfindthemabitdull,too.Mostlyinterestedinbulbsanddogsandhorses.You’llride,ofcourse.You’llenjoythat.There’sahorseoveratEglintonI’dlikeyoutosee.Abeautifulanimal,perfectlytrained,noviceinhimbutplentyofspirit.”
ThecarsloweddowntotaketheturnintothegatesofKingsdean.Harrywrenchedthewheelandsworeasagrotesquefiguresprangupinthemiddleoftheroadandheonlyjustmanagedtoavoidit.Itstoodthere,shakingafistandshoutingafterthem.
Louiseclutchedhisarm.“Who’sthat—thathorribleoldwoman?”
Harry’sbrowwasblack.“That’soldMurgatroyd.Sheandherhusbandwerecaretakersintheoldhouse.Theyweretherefornearlythirtyyears.”
“Whydoessheshakeherfistatyou?”
Harry’sfacegotred.“She—well,sheresentedthehousebeingpulleddown.Andshegotthesack,ofcourse.Herhusband’sbeendeadtwoyears.Theysayshegotabitqueerafterhedied.”
“Isshe—sheisn’t—starving?”
Louise’sideaswerevagueandsomewhatmelodramatic.Richespreventedyoucomingintocontactwithreality.
Harrywasoutraged.“GoodLord,Louise,whatanidea!Ipensionedheroff,ofcourse—andhandsomely,too!Foundheranewcottageandeverything.”
Louiseasked,bewildered,“Thenwhydoesshemind?”
Harrywasfrowning,hisbrowsdrawntogether.“Oh,howshouldIknow?Craziness!Shelovedthehouse.”
“Butitwasaruin,wasn’tit?”
“Ofcourseitwas—crumblingtopieces—roofleaking—moreorlessunsafe.AllthesameIsupposeitmeantsomethingtoher.She’dbeentherealongtime.Oh,Idon’tknow!Theolddevil’scracked,Ithink.”
Louisesaiduneasily,“She—Ithinkshecursedus.Oh,Harry,Iwishshehadn’t.”
ItseemedtoLouisethathernewhomewastaintedandpoisonedbythemalevolentfigureofonecrazyoldwoman.Whenshewentoutinthecar,whensherode,whenshewalkedoutwiththedogs,therewasalwaysthesamefigurewaiting.Croucheddownonherself,abatteredhatoverwispsofiron-greyhair,andtheslowmutteringofimprecations.
LouisecametobelievethatHarrywasright—theoldwomanwasmad.Neverthelessthatdidnotmakethingseasier.Mrs.Murgatroydneveractuallycametothehouse,nordidsheusedefinitethreats,norofferviolence.Hersquattingfigureremainedalwaysjustoutsidethegates.Toappealtothepolicewouldhavebeenuselessand,inanycase,HarryLaxtonwasaversetothatcourseofaction.Itwould,hesaid,arouselocalsympathyfortheoldbrute.HetookthemattermoreeasilythanLouisedid.
“Don’tworryaboutit,darling.She’llgettiredofthissillycursingbusiness.Probablyshe’sonlytryingiton.”
“Sheisn’t,Harry.She—shehatesus!Icanfeelit.She—she’sillwishingus.”
“She’snotawitch,darling,althoughshemaylooklikeone!Don’tbemorbidaboutitall.”
Louisewassilent.Nowthatthefirstexcitementofsettlinginwasover,shefeltcuriouslylonelyandatalooseend.ShehadbeenusedtolifeinLondonandtheRiviera.ShehadnoknowledgeofortasteforEnglishcountrylife.Shewasignorantofgardening,exceptforthefinalactof“doingtheflowers.”Shedidnotreallycarefordogs.Shewasboredbysuchneighboursasshemet.Sheenjoyedridingbest,sometimeswithHarry,sometimes,whenhewasbusyabouttheestate,byherself.Shehackedthroughthewoodsandlanes,enjoyingtheeasypacesofthebeautifulhorsethatHarryhadboughtforher.YetevenPrinceHal,mostsensitiveofchestnutsteeds,waswonttoshyandsnortashecarriedhismistresspastthehuddledfigureofamalevolentoldwoman.
OnedayLouisetookhercourageinbothhands.Shewasoutwalking.ShehadpassedMrs.Murgatroyd,pretendingnottonoticeher,butsuddenlysheswervedbackandwentrightuptoher.Shesaid,alittlebreathlessly,“Whatisit?What’sthematter?Whatdoyouwant?”
Theoldwomanblinkedather.Shehadacunning,darkgypsyface,withwispsofiron-greyhair,andbleared,suspiciouseyes.Louisewonderedifshedrank.
Shespokeinawhiningandyetthreateningvoice.“WhatdoIwant,youask?What,indeed!Thatwhichhasbeentookawayfromme.WhoturnedmeoutofKingsdeanHouse?I’dlivedthere,girlandwoman,fornearonfortyyears.Itwasablackdeedtoturnmeoutandit’sblackbadluckit’llbringtoyouandhim!”
Louisesaid,“You’vegotaverynicecottageand—”
Shebrokeoff.Theoldwoman’sarmsflewup.Shescreamed,“What’sthegoodofthattome?It’smyownplaceIwantandmyownfireasIsatbesideallthemyears.Andasforyouandhim,I’mtellingyoutherewillbenohappinessforyouinyournewfinehouse.It’stheblacksorrowwillbeuponyou!Sorrowanddeathandmycurse.Mayyourfairfacerot.”
Louiseturnedawayandbrokeintoalittlestumblingrun.Shethought,Imustgetawayfromhere!Wemustsellthehouse!Wemustgoaway.
Atthemoment,suchasolutionseemedeasytoher.ButHarry’sutterincomprehensiontookherback.Heexclaimed,“Leavehere?Sellthehouse?Becauseofacrazyoldwoman’sthreats?Youmustbemad.”
“No,I’mnot.Butshe—shefrightensme,Iknowsomethingwillhappen.”
HarryLaxtonsaidgrimly,“LeaveMrs.Murgatroydtome.I’llsettleher!”
AfriendshiphadsprungupbetweenClariceVaneandyoungMrs.Laxton.Thetwogirlsweremuchofanage,thoughdissimilarbothincharacterandintastes.InClarice’scompany,Louisefoundreassurance.Claricewassoself-reliant,sosureofherself.LouisementionedthematterofMrs.Murgatroydandherthreats,butClariceseemedtoregardthematterasmoreannoyingthanfrightening.
“It’ssostupid,thatsortofthing,”shesaid.“Andreallyveryannoyingforyou.”
“Youknow,Clarice,I—Ifeelquitefrightenedsometimes.Myheartgivesthemostawfuljumps.”
“Nonsense,youmustn’tletasillythinglikethatgetyoudown.She’llsoontireofit.”
Shewassilentforaminuteortwo.Claricesaid,“What’sthematter?”
Louisepausedforaminute,thenheranswercamewitharush.“Ihatethisplace!Ihatebeinghere.Thewoodsandthishouse,andtheawfulsilenceatnight,andthequeernoiseowlsmake.Oh,andthepeopleandeverything.”
“Thepeople.Whatpeople?”
“Thepeopleinthevillage.Thoseprying,gossipingoldmaids.”
Claricesaidsharply,“Whathavetheybeensaying?”
“Idon’tknow.Nothingparticular.Butthey’vegotnastyminds.Whenyou’vetalkedtothemyoufeelyouwouldn’ttrustanybody—notanybodyatall.”
Claricesaidharshly,“Forgetthem.They’venothingtodobutgossip.Andmostofthemucktheytalktheyjustinvent.”
Louisesaid,“Iwishwe’dnevercomehere.ButHarryadoresitso.”Hervoicesoftened.
Claricethought,Howsheadoreshim.Shesaidabruptly,“Imustgonow.”
“I’llsendyoubackinthecar.Comeagainsoon.”
Claricenodded.Louisefeltcomfortedbyhernewfriend’svisit.HarrywaspleasedtofindhermorecheerfulandfromthenonurgedhertohaveClariceoftentothehouse.
Thenonedayhesaid,“Goodnewsforyou,darling.”
“Oh,what?”
“I’vefixedtheMurgatroyd.She’sgotasoninAmerica,youknow.Well,I’vearrangedforhertogooutandjoinhim.I’llpayherpassage.”
“Oh,Harry,howwonderful.IbelieveImightgettolikeKingsdeanafterall.”
“Gettolikeit?Why,it’sthemostwonderfulplaceintheworld!”
Louisegavealittleshiver.Shecouldnotridherselfofhersuperstitiousfearsoeasily.
IftheladiesofSt.MaryMeadhadhopedforthepleasureofimpartinginformationaboutherhusband’spasttothebride,thispleasurewasdeniedthembyHarryLaxton’sownpromptaction.
MissHarmonandClariceVanewerebothinMr.Edge’sshop,theonebuyingmothballsandtheotherapacketofboracic,whenHarryLaxtonandhiswifecamein.
Aftergreetingthetwoladies,Harryturnedtothecounterandwasjustdemandingatoothbrushwhenhestoppedinmid-speechandexclaimedheartily,“Well,well,justseewho’shere!Bella,Idodeclare.”
Mrs.Edge,whohadhurriedoutfromthebackparlourtoattendtothecongestionofbusiness,beamedbackcheerfullyathim,showingherbigwhiteteeth.Shehadbeenadark,handsomegirlandwasstillareasonablyhandsomewoman,thoughshehadputonweight,andthelinesofherfacehadcoarsened;butherlargebrowneyeswerefullofwarmthassheanswered,“Bella,itis,Mr.Harry,andpleasedtoseeyouafteralltheseyears.”
Harryturnedtohiswife.“Bella’sanoldflameofmine,Louise,”hesaid.“Head-over-heelsinlovewithher,wasn’tI,Bella?”
“That’swhatyousay,”saidMrs.Edge.
Louiselaughed.Shesaid,“Myhusband’sveryhappyseeingallhisoldfriendsagain.”
“Ah,”saidMrs.Edge,“wehaven’tforgottenyou,Mr.Harry.SeemslikeafairytaletothinkofyoumarriedandbuildingupanewhouseinsteadofthatruinedoldKingsdeanHouse.”
“Youlookverywellandblooming,”saidHarry,andMrs.Edgelaughedandsaidtherewasnothingwrongwithherandwhataboutthattoothbrush?
Clarice,watchingthebaffledlookonMissHarmon’sface,saidtoherselfexultantly,Oh,well-done,Harry.You’vespikedtheirguns.
DoctorHaydocksaidabruptlytohisniece,“What’sallthisnonsenseaboutoldMrs.MurgatroydhangingaboutKingsdeanandshakingherfistandcursingthenewregime?”
“Itisn’tnonsense.It’squitetrue.It’supsetLouiseagooddeal.”
“Tellhersheneedn’tworry—whentheMurgatroydswerecaretakerstheyneverstoppedgrumblingabouttheplace—theyonlystayedbecauseMurgatroyddrankandcouldn’tgetanotherjob.”
“I’lltellher,”saidClaricedoubtfully,“butIdon’tthinkshe’llbelieveyou.Theoldwomanfairlyscreamswithrage.”
“AlwaysusedtobefondofHarryasaboy.Ican’tunderstandit.”
Claricesaid,“Oh,well—they’llberidofhersoon.Harry’spayingherpassagetoAmerica.”
Threedayslater,Louisewasthrownfromherhorseandkilled.
Twomeninabaker’svanwerewitnessesoftheaccident.TheysawLouiserideoutofthegates,sawtheoldwomanspringupandstandintheroadwavingherarmsandshouting,sawthehorsestart,swerve,andthenboltmadlydowntheroad,flingingLouiseLaxtonoverhishead.
Oneofthemstoodovertheunconsciousfigure,notknowingwhattodo,whiletheotherrushedtothehousetogethelp.
HarryLaxtoncamerunningout,hisfaceghastly.Theytookoffadoorofthevanandcarriedheronittothehouse.Shediedwithoutregainingconsciousnessandbeforethedoctorarrived.
(EndofDoctorHaydock’smanuscript.)
WhenDoctorHaydockarrivedthefollowingday,hewaspleasedtonotethattherewasapinkflushinMissMarple’scheekanddecidedlymoreanimationinhermanner.
“Well,”hesaid,“what’stheverdict?”
“What’stheproblem,DoctorHaydock?”counteredMissMarple.
“Oh,mydearlady,doIhavetotellyouthat?”
“Isuppose,”saidMissMarple,“thatit’sthecuriousconductofthecaretaker.Whydidshebehaveinthatveryoddway?Peopledomindbeingturnedoutoftheiroldhomes.Butitwasn’therhome.Infact,sheusedtocomplainandgrumblewhileshewasthere.Yes,itcertainlylooksveryfishy.Whatbecameofher,bytheway?”
“DidabunktoLiverpool.Theaccidentscaredher.Thoughtshe’dwaitthereforherboat.”
“Allveryconvenientforsomebody,”saidMissMarple.“Yes,Ithinkthe‘ProblemoftheCaretaker’sConduct’canbesolvedeasilyenough.Bribery,wasitnot?”
“That’syoursolution?”
“Well,ifitwasn’tnaturalforhertobehaveinthatway,shemusthavebeen‘puttingonanact’aspeoplesay,andthatmeansthatsomebodypaidhertodowhatshedid.”
“Andyouknowwhothatsomebodywas?”
“Oh,Ithinkso.Moneyagain,I’mafraid.AndI’vealwaysnoticedthatgentlemenalwaystendtoadmirethesametype.”
“NowI’moutofmydepth.”
“No,no,itallhangstogether.HarryLaxtonadmiredBellaEdge,adark,vivacioustype.YournieceClaricewasthesame.Butthepoorlittlewifewasquiteadifferenttype—fair-hairedandclinging—nothistypeatall.Sohemusthavemarriedherforhermoney.Andmurderedherforhermoney,too!”
“Youusetheword‘murder’?”
“Well,hesoundstherighttype.Attractivetowomenandquiteunscrupulous.Isupposehewantedtokeephiswife’smoneyandmarryyourniece.HemayhavebeenseentalkingtoMrs.Edge.ButIdon’tfancyhewasattachedtoheranymore.ThoughIdaresayhemadethepoorwomanthinkhewas,forendsofhisown.Hesoonhadherwellunderhisthumb,Ifancy.”
“Howexactlydidhemurderher,doyouthink?”
MissMarplestaredaheadofherforsomeminuteswithdreamyblueeyes.
“Itwasverywell-timed—withthebaker’svanaswitness.Theycouldseetheoldwomanand,ofcourse,they’dputdownthehorse’sfrighttothat.ButIshouldimagine,myself,thatanairgun,orperhapsacatapult.Yes,justasthehorsecamethroughthegates.Thehorsebolted,ofcourse,andMrs.Laxtonwasthrown.”
Shepaused,frowning.
“Thefallmighthavekilledher.Buthecouldn’tbesureofthat.Andheseemsthesortofmanwhowouldlayhisplanscarefullyandleavenothingtochance.Afterall,Mrs.Edgecouldgethimsomethingsuitablewithoutherhusbandknowing.Otherwise,whywouldHarrybotherwithher?Yes,Ithinkhehadsomepowerfuldrughandy,thatcouldbeadministeredbeforeyouarrived.Afterall,ifawomanisthrownfromherhorseandhasseriousinjuriesanddieswithoutrecoveringconsciousness,well—adoctorwouldn’tnormallybesuspicious,wouldhe?He’dputitdowntoshockorsomething.”
DoctorHaydocknodded.
“Whydidyoususpect?”askedMissMarple.
“Itwasn’tanyparticularclevernessonmypart,”saidDoctorHaydock.“Itwasjustthetrite,well-knownfactthatamurdererissopleasedwithhisclevernessthathedoesn’ttakeproperprecautions.Iwasjustsayingafewconsolatorywordstothebereavedhusband—andfeelingdamnedsorryforthefellow,too—whenheflunghimselfdownonthesetteetodoabitofplayactingandahypodermicsyringefelloutofhispocket.
“HesnatcheditupandlookedsoscaredthatIbegantothink.HarryLaxtondidn’tdrug;hewasinperfecthealth;whatwashedoingwithahypodermicsyringe?Ididtheautopsywithaviewtocertainpossibilities.Ifoundstrophanthin.Therestwaseasy.TherewasstrophanthininLaxton’spossession,andBellaEdge,questionedbythepolice,brokedownandadmittedtohavinggotitforhim.AndfinallyoldMrs.MurgatroydconfessedthatitwasHarryLaxtonwhohadputheruptothecursingstunt.”
“Andyourniecegotoverit?”
“Yes,shewasattractedbythefellow,butithadn’tgonefar.”
Thedoctorpickeduphismanuscript.
“Fullmarkstoyou,MissMarple—andfullmarkstomeformyprescription.You’relookingalmostyourselfagain.”
Eighteen
TAPE-MEASUREMURDER
MissPolitttookholdoftheknockerandrappedpolitelyonthecottagedoor.Afteradiscreetintervalsheknockedagain.Theparcelunderherleftarmshiftedalittleasshedidso,andshereadjustedit.InsidetheparcelwasMrs.Spenlow’snewgreenwinterdress,readyforfitting.FromMissPolitt’slefthanddangledabagofblacksilk,containingatapemeasure,apincushion,andalarge,practicalpairofscissors.
MissPolittwastallandgaunt,withasharpnose,pursedlips,andmeagreiron-greyhair.Shehesitatedbeforeusingtheknockerforthethirdtime.Glancingdownthestreet,shesawafigurerapidlyapproaching.MissHartnell,jolly,weather-beaten,fifty-five,shoutedoutinherusualloudbassvoice,“Goodafternoon,MissPolitt!”
Thedressmakeranswered,“Goodafternoon,MissHartnell.”Hervoicewasexcessivelythinandgenteelinitsaccents.Shehadstartedlifeasalady’smaid.“Excuseme,”shewenton,“butdoyouhappentoknowifbyanychanceMrs.Spenlowisn’tathome?”
“Nottheleastidea,”saidMissHartnell.
“It’sratherawkward,yousee.IwastofitonMrs.Spenlow’snewdressthisafternoon.Threethirty,shesaid.”
MissHartnellconsultedherwristwatch.“It’salittlepastthehalfhournow.”
“Yes.Ihaveknockedthreetimes,buttheredoesn’tseemtobeanyanswer,soIwaswonderingifperhapsMrs.Spenlowmighthavegoneoutandforgotten.Shedoesn’tforgetappointmentsasarule,andshewantsthedresstowearthedayaftertomorrow.”
MissHartnellenteredthegateandwalkedupthepathtojoinMissPolittoutsidethedoorofLaburnumCottage.
“Whydoesn’tGladysanswerthedoor?”shedemanded.“Oh,no,ofcourse,it’sThursday—Gladys’sdayout.IexpectMrs.Spenlowhasfallenasleep.Idon’texpectyou’vemadeenoughnoisewiththisthing.”
Seizingtheknocker,sheexecutedadeafeningrat-a-tat-tat,andinadditionthumpeduponthepanelsofthedoor.Shealsocalledoutinastentorianvoice,“Whatho,withinthere!”
Therewasnoresponse.
MissPolittmurmured,“Oh,IthinkMrs.Spenlowmusthaveforgottenandgoneout,I’llcallroundsomeothertime.”Shebeganedgingawaydownthepath.
“Nonsense,”saidMissHartnellfirmly.“Shecan’thavegoneout.I’dhavemether.I’lljusttakealookthroughthewindowsandseeifIcanfindanysignsoflife.”
Shelaughedinherusualheartymanner,toindicatethatitwasajoke,andappliedaperfunctoryglancetothenearestwindowpane—perfunctorybecausesheknewquitewellthatthefrontroomwasseldomused,Mr.andMrs.Spenlowpreferringthesmallbacksittingroom.
Perfunctoryasitwas,though,itsucceededinitsobject.MissHartnell,itistrue,sawnosignsoflife.Onthecontrary,shesaw,throughthewindow,Mrs.Spenlowlyingonthehearthrug—dead
“Ofcourse,”saidMissHartnell,tellingthestoryafterwards,“Imanagedtokeepmyhead.ThatPolittcreaturewouldn’thavehadtheleastideaofwhattodo.‘Gottokeepourheads,’Isaidtoher.‘Youstayhere,andI’llgoforConstablePalk.’Shesaidsomethingaboutnotwantingtobeleft,butIpaidnoattentionatall.Onehastobefirmwiththatsortofperson.I’vealwaysfoundtheyenjoymakingafuss.SoIwasjustgoingoffwhen,atthatverymoment,Mr.Spenlowcameroundthecornerofthehouse.”
HereMissHartnellmadeasignificantpause.Itenabledheraudiencetoaskbreathlessly,“Tellme,howdidhelook?”
MissHartnellwouldthengoon,“Frankly,Isuspectedsomethingatonce!Hewasfartoocalm.Hedidn’tseemsurprisedintheleast.Andyoumaysaywhatyoulike,itisn’tnaturalforamantohearthathiswifeisdeadanddisplaynoemotionwhatever.”
Everybodyagreedwiththisstatement.
Thepoliceagreedwithit,too.SosuspiciousdidtheyconsiderMr.Spenlow’sdetachment,thattheylostnotimeinascertaininghowthatgentlemanwassituatedasaresultofhiswife’sdeath.WhentheydiscoveredthatMrs.Spenlowhadbeenthemoniedpartner,andthathermoneywenttoherhusbandunderawillmadesoonaftertheirmarriage,theyweremoresuspiciousthanever.
MissMarple,thatsweet-faced—and,somesaid,vinegar-tongued—elderlyspinsterwholivedinthehousenexttotherectory,wasinterviewedveryearly—withinhalfanhourofthediscoveryofthecrime.ShewasapproachedbyPoliceConstablePalk,importantlythumbinganotebook.“Ifyoudon’tmind,ma’am,I’veafewquestionstoaskyou.”
MissMarplesaid,“InconnectionwiththemurderofMrs.Spenlow?”
Palkwasstartled.“MayIask,madam,howyougottoknowofit?”
“Thefish,”saidMissMarple.
ThereplywasperfectlyintelligibletoConstablePalk.Heassumedcorrectlythatthefishmonger’sboyhadbroughtit,togetherwithMissMarple’seveningmeal.
MissMarplecontinuedgently.“Lyingonthefloorinthesittingroom,strangled—possiblybyaverynarrowbelt.Butwhateveritwas,itwastakenaway.”
Palk’sfacewaswrathful.“HowthatyoungFredgetstoknoweverything—”
MissMarplecuthimshortadroitly.Shesaid,“There’sapininyourtunic.”
ConstablePalklookeddown,startled.Hesaid,“Theydosay,‘Seeapinandpickitup,allthedayyou’llhavegoodluck.’”
“Ihopethatwillcometrue.Nowwhatisityouwantmetotellyou?”
ConstablePalkclearedhisthroat,lookedimportant,andconsultedhisnotebook.“StatementwasmadetomebyMr.ArthurSpenlow,husbandofthedeceased.Mr.Spenlowsaysthatattwothirty,asfarashecansay,hewasrungupbyMissMarple,andaskedifhewouldcomeoverataquarterpastthreeasshewasanxioustoconsulthimaboutsomething.Now,ma’am,isthattrue?”
“Certainlynot,”saidMissMarple.
“YoudidnotringupMr.Spenlowattwothirty?”
“Neitherattwothirtynoranyothertime.”
“Ah,”saidConstablePalk,andsuckedhismoustachewithagooddealofsatisfaction.
“WhatelsedidMr.Spenlowsay?”
“Mr.Spenlow’sstatementwasthathecameoverhereasrequested,leavinghisownhouseattenminutespastthree;thatonarrivalherehewasinformedbythemaidservantthatMissMarplewas‘notat’ome.’”
“Thatpartofitistrue,”saidMissMarple.“Hedidcomehere,butIwasatameetingattheWomen’sInstitute.”
“Ah,”saidConstablePalkagain.
MissMarpleexclaimed,“Dotellme,Constable,doyoususpectMr.Spenlow?”
“It’snotformetosayatthisstage,butitlookstomeasthoughsomebody,namingnonames,hasbeentryingtobeartful.”
MissMarplesaidthoughtfully,“Mr.Spenlow?”
ShelikedMr.Spenlow.Hewasasmall,spareman,stiffandconventionalinspeech,theacmeofrespectability.Itseemedoddthatheshouldhavecometoliveinthecountry,hehadsoclearlylivedintownsallhislife.ToMissMarpleheconfidedthereason.Hesaid,“Ihavealwaysintended,eversinceIwasasmallboy,toliveinthecountrysomedayandhaveagardenofmyown.Ihavealwaysbeenverymuchattachedtoflowers.Mywife,youknow,keptaflowershop.That’swhereIsawherfirst.”
Adrystatement,butitopenedupavistaofromance.Ayounger,prettierMrs.Spenlow,seenagainstabackgroundofflowers.
Mr.Spenlow,however,reallyknewnothingaboutflowers.Hehadnoideaofseeds,ofcuttings,ofbeddingout,ofannualsorperennials.Hehadonlyavision—avisionofasmallcottagegardenthicklyplantedwithsweet-smelling,brightlycolouredblossoms.Hehadasked,almostpathetically,forinstruction,andhadnoteddownMissMarple’srepliestoquestionsinalittlebook.
Hewasamanofquietmethod.Itwas,perhaps,becauseofthistrait,thatthepolicewereinterestedinhimwhenhiswifewasfoundmurdered.WithpatienceandperseverancetheylearnedagooddealaboutthelateMrs.Spenlow—andsoonallSt.MaryMeadknewit,too.
ThelateMrs.Spenlowhadbegunlifeasabetween-maidinalargehouse.Shehadleftthatpositiontomarrythesecondgardener,andwithhimhadstartedaflowershopinLondon.Theshophadprospered.Notsothegardener,whobeforelonghadsickenedanddied.
Hiswidowcarriedontheshopandenlargeditinanambitiousway.Shehadcontinuedtoprosper.Thenshehadsoldthebusinessatahandsomepriceandembarkeduponmatrimonyforthesecondtime—withMr.Spenlow,amiddle-agedjewellerwhohadinheritedasmallandstrugglingbusiness.Notlongafterwards,theyhadsoldthebusinessandcamedowntoSt.MaryMead.
Mrs.Spenlowwasawell-to-dowoman.Theprofitsfromherflorist’sestablishmentshehadinvested—“underspiritguidance,”assheexplainedtoallandsundry.Thespiritshadadvisedherwithunexpectedacumen.
Allherinvestmentshadprospered,someinquiteasensationalfashion.Instead,however,ofthisincreasingherbeliefinspiritualism,Mrs.Spenlowbaselydesertedmediumsandsittings,andmadeabriefbutwholeheartedplungeintoanobscurereligionwithIndianaffinitieswhichwasbasedonvariousformsofdeepbreathing.When,however,shearrivedatSt.MaryMead,shehadrelapsedintoaperiodoforthodoxChurch-of-Englandbeliefs.Shewasagooddealatthevicarage,andattendedchurchserviceswithassiduity.Shepatronizedthevillageshops,tookaninterestinthelocalhappenings,andplayedvillagebridge.
Ahumdrum,everydaylife.And—suddenly—murder.
ColonelMelchett,thechiefconstable,hadsummonedInspectorSlack.
Slackwasapositivetypeofman.Whenhehadmadeuphismind,hewassure.Hewasquitesurenow.“Husbanddidit,sir,”hesaid.
“Youthinkso?”
“Quitesureofit.You’veonlygottolookathim.Guiltyashell.Nevershowedasignofgrieforemotion.Hecamebacktothehouseknowingshewasdead.”
“Wouldn’theatleasthavetriedtoactthepartofthedistractedhusband?”
“Nothim,sir.Toopleasedwithhimself.Somegentlemencan’tact.Toostiff.”
“Anyotherwomaninhislife?”ColonelMelchettasked.
“Haven’tbeenabletofindanytraceofone.Ofcourse,he’stheartfulkind.He’dcoverhistracks.AsIseeit,hewasjustfedupwithhiswife.She’dgotthemoney,andIshouldsaywasatryingwomantolivewith—alwaystakingupwithsome‘ism’orother.Hecold-bloodedlydecidedtodoawaywithherandlivecomfortablyonhisown.”
“Yes,thatcouldbethecase,Isuppose.”
“Dependuponit,thatwasit.Madehisplanscareful.Pretendedtogetaphonecall—”
Melchettinterruptedhim.“Nocallbeentraced?”
“No,sir.Thatmeanseitherthathelied,orthatthecallwasputthroughfromapublictelephonebooth.Theonlytwopublicphonesinthevillageareatthestationandthepostoffice.Postofficeitcertainlywasn’t.Mrs.Bladeseeseveryonewhocomesin.Stationitmightbe.Trainarrivesattwotwenty-sevenandthere’sabitofabustlethen.ButthemainthingishesaysitwasMissMarplewhocalledhimup,andthatcertainlyisn’ttrue.Thecalldidn’tcomefromherhouse,andsheherselfwasawayattheInstitute.”
“You’renotoverlookingthepossibilitythatthehusbandwasdeliberatelygotoutoftheway—bysomeonewhowantedtomurderMrs.Spenlow?”
“You’rethinkingofyoungTedGerard,aren’tyou,sir?I’vebeenworkingonhim—whatwe’reupagainstthereislackofmotive.Hedoesn’tstandtogainanything.”
“He’sanundesirablecharacter,though.Quiteaprettylittlespotofembezzlementtohiscredit.”
“I’mnotsayingheisn’tawrong’un.Still,hedidgotohisbossandownuptothatembezzlement.Andhisemployersweren’twisetoit.”
“AnOxfordGrouper,”saidMelchett.
“Yes,sir.Becameaconvertandwentofftodothestraightthingandownuptohavingpinchedmoney.I’mnotsaying,mindyou,thatitmayn’thavebeenastuteness.Hemayhavethoughthewassuspectedanddecidedtogambleonhonestrepentance.”
“Youhaveascepticalmind,Slack,”saidColonelMelchett.“Bytheway,haveyoutalkedtoMissMarpleatall?”
“What’sshegottodowithit,sir?”
“Oh,nothing.Butshehearsthings,youknow.Whydon’tyougoandhaveachatwithher?She’saverysharpoldlady.”
Slackchangedthesubject.“OnethingI’vebeenmeaningtoaskyou,sir.Thatdomestic-servicejobwherethedeceasedstartedhercareer—SirRobertAbercrombie’splace.That’swherethatjewelrobberywas—emeralds—worthapacket.Nevergotthem.I’vebeenlookingitup—musthavehappenedwhentheSpenlowwomanwasthere,thoughshe’dhavebeenquiteagirlatthetime.Don’tthinkshewasmixedupinit,doyou,sir?Spenlow,youknow,wasoneofthoselittletuppenny-ha’pennyjewellers—justthechapforafence.”
Melchettshookhishead.“Don’tthinkthere’sanythinginthat.Shedidn’tevenknowSpenlowatthetime.Irememberthecase.Opinioninpolicecircleswasthatasonofthehousewasmixedupinit—JimAbercrombie—awfulyoungwaster.Hadapileofdebts,andjustaftertherobberytheywereallpaidoff—somerichwoman,sotheysaid,butIdon’tknow—OldAbercrombiehedgedabitaboutthecase—triedtocallthepoliceoff.”
“Itwasjustanidea,sir,”saidSlack.
MissMarplereceivedInspectorSlackwithgratification,especiallywhensheheardthathehadbeensentbyColonelMelchett.
“Now,really,thatisverykindofColonelMelchett.Ididn’tknowherememberedme.”
“Heremembersyou,allright.Toldmethatwhatyoudidn’tknowofwhatgoesoninSt.MaryMeadisn’tworthknowing.”
“Tookindofhim,butreallyIdon’tknowanythingatall.Aboutthismurder,Imean.”
“Youknowwhatthetalkaboutitis.”
“Oh,ofcourse—butitwouldn’tdo,wouldit,torepeatjustidletalk?”
Slacksaid,withanattemptatgeniality,“Thisisn’tanofficialconversation,youknow.It’sinconfidence,sotospeak.”
“Youmeanyoureallywanttoknowwhatpeoplearesaying?Whetherthere’sanytruthinitornot?”
“That’stheidea.”
“Well,ofcourse,there’sbeenagreatdealoftalkandspeculation.Andtherearereallytwodistinctcamps,ifyouunderstandme.Tobeginwith,therearethepeoplewhothinkthatthehusbanddidit.Ahusbandorawifeis,inaway,thenaturalpersontosuspect,don’tyouthinkso?”
“Maybe,”saidtheinspectorcautiously.
“Suchclosequarters,youknow.Then,sooften,themoneyangle.IhearthatitwasMrs.Spenlowwhohadthemoney,andthereforeMr.Spenlowdoesbenefitbyherdeath.InthiswickedworldI’mafraidthemostuncharitableassumptionsareoftenjustified.”
“Hecomesintoatidysum,allright.”
“Justso.Itwouldseemquiteplausible,wouldn’tit,forhimtostrangleher,leavethehousebytheback,comeacrossthefieldstomyhouse,askformeandpretendhe’dhadatelephonecallfromme,thengobackandfindhiswifemurderedinhisabsence—hoping,ofcourse,thatthecrimewouldbeputdowntosometramporburglar.”
Theinspectornodded.“Whatwiththemoneyangle—andifthey’dbeenonbadtermslately—”
ButMissMarpleinterruptedhim.“Oh,buttheyhadn’t.”
“Youknowthatforafact?”
“Everyonewouldhaveknownifthey’dquarrelled!Themaid,GladysBrent—she’dhavesoonspreaditroundthevillage.”
Theinspectorsaidfeebly,“Shemightn’thaveknown—”andreceivedapityingsmileinreply.
MissMarplewenton.“Andthenthere’stheotherschoolofthought.TedGerard.Agood-lookingyoungman.I’mafraid,youknow,thatgoodlooksareinclinedtoinfluenceonemorethantheyshould.Ourlastcuratebutone—quiteamagicaleffect!Allthegirlscametochurch—eveningserviceaswellasmorning.Andmanyolderwomenbecameunusuallyactiveinparishwork—andtheslippersandscarfsthatweremadeforhim!Quiteembarrassingforthepooryoungman.
“Butletmesee,wherewasI?Oh,yes,thisyoungman,TedGerard.Ofcourse,therehasbeentalkabouthim.He’scomedowntoseehersooften.ThoughMrs.SpenlowtoldmeherselfthathewasamemberofwhatIthinktheycalltheOxfordGroup.Areligiousmovement.Theyarequitesincereandveryearnest,Ibelieve,andMrs.Spenlowwasimpressedbyitall.”
MissMarpletookabreathandwenton.“AndI’msuretherewasnoreasontobelievethattherewasanythingmoreinitthanthat,butyouknowwhatpeopleare.QuitealotofpeopleareconvincedthatMrs.Spenlowwasinfatuatedwiththeyoungman,andthatshe’dlenthimquitealotofmoney.Andit’sperfectlytruethathewasactuallyseenatthestationthatday.Inthetrain—thetwotwenty-sevendowntrain.Butofcourseitwouldbequiteeasy,wouldn’tit,toslipoutoftheothersideofthetrainandgothroughthecuttingandoverthefenceandroundbythehedgeandnevercomeoutofthestationentranceatall.Sothatheneednothavebeenseengoingtothecottage.And,ofcourse,peopledothinkthatwhatMrs.Spenlowwaswearingwasratherpeculiar.”
“Peculiar?”
“Akimono.Notadress.”MissMarpleblushed.“Thatsortofthing,youknow,is,perhaps,rathersuggestivetosomepeople.”
“Youthinkitwassuggestive?”
“Oh,no,Idon’tthinkso,Ithinkitwasperfectlynatural.”
“Youthinkitwasnatural?”
“Underthecircumstances,yes.”MissMarple’sglancewascoolandreflective.
InspectorSlacksaid,“Itmightgiveusanothermotiveforthehusband.Jealousy.”
“Oh,no,Mr.Spenlowwouldneverbejealous.He’snotthesortofmanwhonoticesthings.Ifhiswifehadgoneawayandleftanoteonthepincushion,itwouldbethefirsthe’dknowofanythingofthatkind.”
InspectorSlackwaspuzzledbytheintentwayshewaslookingathim.Hehadanideathatallherconversationwasintendedtohintatsomethinghedidn’tunderstand.Shesaidnow,withsomeemphasis,“Didn’tyoufindanyclues,Inspector—onthespot?”
“Peopledon’tleavefingerprintsandcigaretteashnowadays,MissMarple.”
“Butthis,Ithink,”shesuggested,“wasanold-fashionedcrime—”
Slacksaidsharply,“Nowwhatdoyoumeanbythat?”
MissMarpleremarkedslowly,“Ithink,youknow,thatConstablePalkcouldhelpyou.Hewasthefirstpersononthe—onthe‘sceneofthecrime,’astheysay.”
Mr.Spenlowwassittinginadeckchair.Helookedbewildered.Hesaid,inhisthin,precisevoice,“Imay,ofcourse,beimaginingwhatoccurred.Myhearingisnotasgoodasitwas.ButIdistinctlythinkIheardasmallboycallafterme,‘Yah,who’saCrippen?’It—itconveyedtheimpressiontomethathewasoftheopinionthatIhad—hadkilledmydearwife.”
MissMarple,gentlysnippingoffadeadrosehead,said,“Thatwastheimpressionhemeanttoconvey,nodoubt.”
“Butwhatcouldpossiblyhaveputsuchanideaintoachild’shead?”
MissMarplecoughed.“Listening,nodoubt,totheopinionsofhiselders.”
“You—youreallymeanthatotherpeoplethinkthat,also?”
“QuitehalfthepeopleinSt.MaryMead.”
“But—mydearlady—whatcanpossiblyhavegivenrisetosuchanidea?Iwassincerelyattachedtomywife.Shedidnot,alas,taketolivinginthecountryasmuchasIhadhopedshewoulddo,butperfectagreementoneverysubjectisanimpossibleidea.IassureyouIfeelherlossverykeenly.”
“Probably.Butifyouwillexcusemysayingso,youdon’tsoundasthoughyoudo.”
Mr.Spenlowdrewhismeagreframeuptoitsfullheight.“Mydearlady,manyyearsagoIreadofacertainChinesephilosopherwho,whenhisdearlylovedwifewastakenfromhim,continuedcalmlytobeatagonginthestreet—acustomaryChinesepastime,Ipresume—exactlyasusual.Thepeopleofthecityweremuchimpressedbyhisfortitude.”
“But,”saidMissMarple,“thepeopleofSt.MaryMeadreactratherdifferently.Chinesephilosophydoesnotappealtothem.”
“Butyouunderstand?”
MissMarplenodded.“MyUncleHenry,”sheexplained,“wasamanofunusualself-control.Hismottowas‘Neverdisplayemotion.’He,too,wasveryfondofflowers.”
“Iwasthinking,”saidMr.Spenlowwithsomethinglikeeagerness,“thatImight,perhaps,haveapergolaonthewestsideofthecottage.Pinkrosesand,perhaps,wisteria.Andthereisawhitestarryflower,whosenameforthemomentescapesme—”
Inthetoneinwhichshespoketohergrandnephew,agedthree,MissMarplesaid,“Ihaveaverynicecataloguehere,withpictures.Perhapsyouwouldliketolookthroughit—Ihavetogouptothevillage.”
LeavingMr.Spenlowsittinghappilyinthegardenwithhiscatalogue,MissMarplewentuptoherroom,hastilyrolledupadressinapieceofbrownpaper,and,leavingthehouse,walkedbrisklyuptothepostoffice.MissPolitt,thedressmaker,livedintheroomsoverthepostoffice.
ButMissMarpledidnotatoncegothroughthedoorandupthestairs.Itwasjusttwothirty,and,aminutelate,theMuchBen-hambusdrewupoutsidethepostofficedoor.ItwasoneoftheeventsofthedayinSt.MaryMead.Thepostmistresshurriedoutwithparcels,parcelsconnectedwiththeshopsideofherbusiness,forthepostofficealsodealtinsweets,cheapbooks,andchildren’stoys.
ForsomefourminutesMissMarplewasaloneinthepostoffice.
NottillthepostmistressreturnedtoherpostdidMissMarplegoupstairsandexplaintoMissPolittthatshewantedheroldgreycrepealteredandmademorefashionableifthatwerepossible.MissPolittpromisedtoseewhatshecoulddo.
ThechiefconstablewasratherastonishedwhenMissMarple’snamewasbroughttohim.Shecameinwithmanyapologies.“Sosorry—soverysorrytodisturbyou.Youaresobusy,Iknow,butthenyouhavealwaysbeensoverykind,ColonelMelchett,andIfeltIwouldrathercometoyouinsteadofInspectorSlack.Foronething,youknow,IshouldhateConstablePalktogetintoanytrouble.Strictlyspeaking,Isupposeheshouldn’thavetouchedanythingatall.”
ColonelMelchettwasslightlybewildered.Hesaid,“Palk?That’stheSt.MaryMeadconstable,isn’tit?Whathashebeendoing?”
“Hepickedupapin,youknow.Itwasinhistunic.AnditoccurredtomeatthetimethatitwasquiteprobablehehadactuallypickeditupinMrs.Spenlow’shouse.”
“Quite,quite.Butafterall,youknow,what’sapin?MatteroffacthedidpickthepinupjustbyMrs.Spenlow’sbody.CameandtoldSlackaboutityesterday—youputhimuptothat,Igather?Oughtn’ttohavetouchedanything,ofcourse,butasIsaid,what’sapin?Itwasonlyacommonpin.Sortofthinganywomanmightuse.”
“Oh,no,ColonelMelchett,that’swhereyou’rewrong.Toaman’seye,perhaps,itlookedlikeanordinarypin,butitwasn’t.Itwasaspecialpin,averythinpin,thekindyoubuybythebox,thekindusedmostlybydressmakers.”
Melchettstaredather,afaintlightofcomprehensionbreakinginonhim.MissMarplenoddedherheadseveraltimes,eagerly.
“Yes,ofcourse.Itseemstomesoobvious.Shewasinherkimonobecauseshewasgoingtotryonhernewdress,andshewentintothefrontroom,andMissPolittjustsaidsomethingaboutmeasurementsandputthetapemeasureroundherneck—andthenallshe’dhavetodowastocrossitandpull—quiteeasy,soI’veheard.Andthen,ofcourse,she’dgooutsideandpullthedoortoandstandthereknockingasthoughshe’djustarrived.Butthepinshowsshe’dalreadybeeninthehouse.”
“AnditwasMissPolittwhotelephonedtoSpenlow?”
“Yes.Fromthepostofficeattwothirty—justwhenthebuscomesandthepostofficewouldbeempty.”
ColonelMelchettsaid,“ButmydearMissMarple,why?Inheaven’sname,why?Youcan’thaveamurderwithoutamotive.”
“Well,Ithink,youknow,ColonelMelchett,fromallI’veheard,thatthecrimedatesfromalongtimeback.Itremindsme,youknow,ofmytwocousins,AntonyandGordon.WhateverAntonydidalwayswentrightforhim,andwithpoorGordonitwasjusttheotherwayabout.Racehorseswentlame,andstockswentdown,andpropertydepreciated.AsIseeit,thetwowomenwereinittogether.”
“Inwhat?”
“Therobbery.Longago.Veryvaluableemeralds,soI’veheard.Thelady’smaidandthetweeny.Becauseonethinghasn’tbeenexplained—how,whenthetweenymarriedthegardener,didtheyhaveenoughmoneytosetupaflowershop?
“Theansweris,itwashershareofthe—theswag,Ithinkistherightexpression.Everythingshedidturnedoutwell.Moneymademoney.Buttheotherone,thelady’smaid,musthavebeenunlucky.Shecamedowntobeingjustavillagedressmaker.Thentheymetagain.Quiteallrightatfirst,Iexpect,untilMr.TedGerardcameonthescene.
“Mrs.Spenlow,yousee,wasalreadysufferingfromconscience,andwasinclinedtobeemotionallyreligious.Thisyoungmannodoubturgedherto‘faceup’andto‘comeclean’andIdaresayshewasstrunguptodoit.ButMissPolittdidn’tseeitthatway.Allshesawwasthatshemightgotoprisonforarobberyshehadcommittedyearsago.Soshemadeuphermindtoputastoptoitall.I’mafraid,youknow,thatshewasalwaysratherawickedwoman.Idon’tbelieveshe’dhaveturnedahairifthatnice,stupidMr.Spenlowhadbeenhanged.”
ColonelMelchettsaidslowly,“Wecan—er—verifyyourtheory—uptoapoint.TheidentityofthePolittwomanwiththelady’smaidattheAbercrombies,’but—”
MissMarplereassuredhim.“Itwillbeallquiteeasy.She’sthekindofwomanwhowillbreakdownatoncewhenshe’staxedwiththetruth.Andthen,yousee,I’vegothertapemeasure.I—er—abstractedityesterdaywhenIwastryingon.Whenshemissesitandthinksthepolicehavegotit—well,she’squiteanignorantwomanandshe’llthinkitwillprovethecaseagainstherinsomeway.”
Shesmiledathimencouragingly.“You’llhavenotrouble,Icanassureyou.”ItwasthetoneinwhichhisfavouriteaunthadonceassuredhimthathecouldnotfailtopasshisentranceexaminationintoSandhurst.
Andhehadpassed.
Nineteen
GREENSHAW’SFOLLY
Thetwomenroundedthecorneroftheshrubbery.
“Well,thereyouare,”saidRaymondWest.“That’sit.”
HoraceBindlertookadeep,appreciativebreath.
“Butmydear,”hecried,“howwonderful.”Hisvoiceroseinahighscreechof’stheticdelight,thendeepenedinreverentawe.“It’sunbelievable.Outofthisworld!Aperiodpieceofthebest.”
“Ithoughtyou’dlikeit,”saidRaymondWest,complacently.
“Likeit?Mydear—”WordsfailedHorace.Heunbuckledthestrapofhiscameraandgotbusy.“Thiswillbeoneofthegemsofmycollection,”hesaidhappily.“Idothink,don’tyou,thatit’sratheramusingtohaveacollectionofmonstrosities?Theideacametomeonenightsevenyearsagoinmybath.MylastrealgemwasintheCampoSantoatGenoa,butIreallythinkthisbeatsit.What’sitcalled?”
“Ihaven’ttheleastidea,”saidRaymond.
“Isupposeit’sgotaname?”
“Itmusthave.Butthefactisthatit’sneverreferredtoroundhereasanythingbutGreenshaw’sFolly.”
“Greenshawbeingthemanwhobuiltit?”
“Yes.Ineighteen-sixtyorseventyorthereabouts.Thelocalsuccessstoryofthetime.Barefootboywhohadrisentoimmenseprosperity.Localopinionisdividedastowhyhebuiltthishouse,whetheritwassheerexuberanceofwealthorwhetheritwasdonetoimpresshiscreditors.Ifthelatter,itdidn’timpressthem.Heeitherwentbankruptorthenextthingtoit.Hencethename,Greenshaw’sFolly.”
Horace’scameraclicked.“There,”hesaidinasatisfiedvoice.“RemindmetoshowyouNo.310inmycollection.AreallyincrediblemarblemantelpieceintheItalianmanner.”Headded,lookingatthehouse,“Ican’tconceiveofhowMr.Greenshawthoughtofitall.”
“Ratherobviousinsomeways,”saidRaymond.“HehadvisitedthechateauxoftheLoire,don’tyouthink?Thoseturrets.Andthen,ratherunfortunately,heseemstohavetravelledintheOrient.TheinfluenceoftheTajMahalisunmistakable.IratherliketheMoorishwing,”headded,“andthetracesofaVenetianpalace.”
“Onewondershowheevergotholdofanarchitecttocarryouttheseideas.”
Raymondshruggedhisshoulders.
“Nodifficultyaboutthat,Iexpect,”hesaid.“ProbablythearchitectretiredwithagoodincomeforlifewhilepooroldGreenshawwentbankrupt.”
“Couldwelookatitfromtheotherside?”askedHorace,“orarewetrespassing!”
“We’retrespassingallright,”saidRaymond,“butIdon’tthinkitwillmatter.”
HeturnedtowardsthecornerofthehouseandHoraceskippedafterhim.
“Butwholiveshere,mydear?Orphansorholidayvisitors?Itcan’tbeaschool.Noplayingfieldsorbriskefficiency.”
“Oh,aGreenshawlivesherestill,”saidRaymondoverhisshoulder.“Thehouseitselfdidn’tgointhecrash.OldGreenshaw’ssoninheritedit.Hewasabitofamiserandlivedhereinacornerofit.Neverspentapenny.Probablyneverhadapennytospend.Hisdaughterlivesherenow.Oldlady—veryeccentric.”
AshespokeRaymondwascongratulatinghimselfonhavingthoughtofGreenshaw’sFollyasameansofentertaininghisguest.Theseliterarycriticsalwaysprofessedthemselvesaslongingforaweekendinthecountry,andwerewonttofindthecountryextremelyboringwhentheygotthere.TomorrowtherewouldbetheSundaypapers,andfortodayRaymondWestcongratulatedhimselfonsuggestingavisittoGreenshaw’sFollytoenrichHoraceBindler’swell-knowncollectionofmonstrosities.
Theyturnedthecornerofthehouseandcameoutonaneglectedlawn.Inonecornerofitwasalargeartificialrockery,andbendingoveritwasafigureatsightofwhichHoraceclutchedRaymonddelightedlybythearm.
“Mydear,”heexclaimed,“doyouseewhatshe’sgoton?Aspriggedprintdress.Justlikeahousemaid—whentherewerehousemaids.OneofmymostcherishedmemoriesisstayingatahouseinthecountrywhenIwasquiteaboywherearealhousemaidcalledyouinthemorning,allcracklinginaprintdressandacap.Yes,myboy,really—acap.Muslinwithstreamers.No,perhapsitwastheparlourmaidwhohadthestreamers.Butanywayshewasarealhousemaidandshebroughtinanenormousbrasscanofhotwater.Whatanexcitingdaywe’rehaving.”
Thefigureintheprintdresshadstraightenedupandhadturnedtowardsthem,trowelinhand.Shewasasufficientlystartlingfigure.Unkemptlocksofiron-greyfellwispilyonhershoulders,astrawhatratherlikethehatsthathorseswearinItalywascrammeddownonherhead.Thecolouredprintdresssheworefellnearlytoherankles.Outofaweather-beaten,not-too-cleanface,shrewdeyessurveyedthemappraisingly.
“Imustapologizefortrespassing,MissGreenshaw,”saidRaymondWest,asheadvancedtowardsher,“butMr.HoraceBindlerwhoisstayingwithme—”
Horacebowedandremovedhishat.
“—ismostinterestedin—er—ancienthistoryand—er—finebuildings.”
RaymondWestspokewiththeeaseofawell-knownauthorwhoknowsthatheisacelebrity,thathecanventurewhereotherpeoplemaynot.
MissGreenshawlookedupatthesprawlingexuberancebehindher.
“Itisafinehouse,”shesaidappreciatively.“Mygrandfatherbuiltit—beforemytime,ofcourse.Heisreportedashavingsaidthathewishedtoastonishthenatives.”
“I’llsayhedidthat,ma’am,”saidHoraceBindler.
“Mr.Bindleristhewell-knownliterarycritic,”saidRaymondWest.
MissGreenshawhadclearlynoreverenceforliterarycritics.Sheremainedunimpressed.
“Iconsiderit,”saidMissGreenshaw,referringtothehouse,“asamonumenttomygrandfather’sgenius.Sillyfoolscomehere,andaskmewhyIdon’tsellitandgoandliveinaflat.WhatwouldIdoinaflat?It’smyhomeandIliveinit,”saidMissGreenshaw.“Alwayshavelivedhere.”Sheconsidered,broodingoverthepast.“Therewerethreeofus.Lauramarriedthecurate.Papawouldn’tgiveheranymoney,saidclergymenoughttobeunworldly.Shedied,havingababy.Babydiedtoo.Nettieranawaywiththeridingmaster.Papacutheroutofhiswill,ofcourse.Handsomefellow,HarryFletcher,butnogood.Don’tthinkNettiewashappywithhim.Anyway,shedidn’tlivelong.Theyhadason.Hewritestomesometimes,butofcourseheisn’taGreenshaw.I’mthelastoftheGreenshaws.”Shedrewupherbentshoulderswithacertainpride,andreadjustedtherakishangleofthestrawhat.Then,turning,shesaidsharply,
“Yes,Mrs.Cresswell,whatisit?”
Approachingthemfromthehousewasafigurethat,seensidebysidewithMissGreenshaw,seemedludicrouslydissimilar.Mrs.Cresswellhadamarvellouslydressedheadofwell-bluedhairtoweringupwardsinmeticulouslyarrangedcurlsandrolls.ItwasasthoughshehaddressedherheadtogoasaFrenchmarquisetoafancy-dressparty.Therestofhermiddle-agedpersonwasdressedinwhatoughttohavebeenrustlingblacksilkbutwasactuallyoneoftheshiniervarietiesofblackrayon.Althoughshewasnotalargewoman,shehadawell-developedandsumptuousbust.Hervoicewhenshespoke,wasunexpectedlydeep.Shespokewithexquisitediction,onlyaslighthesitationoverwordsbeginningwith“h”andthefinalpronunciationofthemwithanexaggeratedaspirategaverisetoasuspicionthatatsomeremoteperiodinheryouthshemighthavehadtroubleoverdroppingherh’s
“Thefish,madam,”saidMrs.Cresswell,“thesliceofcod.Ithasnotarrived.IhaveaskedAlfredtogodownforitandherefusestodoso.”
Ratherunexpectedly,MissGreenshawgaveacackleoflaughter.
“Refuses,doeshe?”
“Alfred,madam,hasbeenmostdisobliging.”
MissGreenshawraisedtwoearth-stainedfingerstoherlips,suddenlyproducedanear-splittingwhistleandatthesametimeyelled:
“Alfred.Alfred,comehere.”
Roundthecornerofthehouseayoungmanappearedinanswertothesummons,carryingaspadeinhishand.Hehadabold,handsomefaceandashedrewnearhecastanunmistakablymalevolentglancetowardsMrs.Cresswell.
“Youwantedme,miss?”hesaid.
“Yes,Alfred.Ihearyou’verefusedtogodownforthefish.Whataboutit,eh?”
Alfredspokeinasurlyvoice.
“I’llgodownforitifyouwantsit,miss.You’veonlygottosay.”
“Idowantit.Iwantitformysupper.”
“Rightyouare,miss.I’llgorightaway.”
HethrewaninsolentglanceatMrs.Cresswell,whoflushedandmurmuredbelowherbreath:
“Really!It’sunsupportable.”
“NowthatIthinkofit,”saidMissGreenshaw,“acoupleofstrangevisitorsarejustwhatweneedaren’tthey,Mrs.Cresswell?”
Mrs.Cresswelllookedpuzzled.
“I’msorry,madam—”
“Foryou-know-what,”saidMissGreenshaw,noddingherhead.“Beneficiarytoawillmustn’twitnessit.That’sright,isn’tit?”SheappealedtoRaymondWest.
“Quitecorrect,”saidRaymond.
“Iknowenoughlawtoknowthat,”saidMissGreenshaw.“Andyoutwoaremenofstanding.”
Sheflungdownhertrowelonherweedingbasket.
“Wouldyoumindcominguptothelibrarywithme?”
“Delighted,”saidHoraceeagerly.
Sheledthewaythroughfrenchwindowsandthroughavastyellowandgolddrawingroomwithfadedbrocadeonthewallsanddustcoversarrangedoverthefurniture,thenthroughalargedimhall,upastaircaseandintoaroomonthefirstfloor.
“Mygrandfather’slibrary,”sheannounced.
Horacelookedroundtheroomwithacutepleasure.Itwasaroom,fromhispointofview,quitefullofmonstrosities.Theheadsofsphinxesappearedonthemostunlikelypiecesoffurniture,therewasacolossalbronzerepresenting,hethought,PaulandVirginia,andavastbronzeclockwithclassicalmotifsofwhichhelongedtotakeaphotograph.
“Afinelotofbooks,”saidMissGreenshaw.
Raymondwasalreadylookingatthebooks.Fromwhathecouldseefromacursoryglancetherewasnobookhereofanyrealinterestor,indeed,anybookwhichappearedtohavebeenread.Theywereallsuperblyboundsetsoftheclassicsassuppliedninetyyearsagoforfurnishingagentleman’slibrary.Somenovelsofabygoneperiodwereincluded.Buttheytooshowedlittlesignsofhavingbeenread.
MissGreenshawwasfumblinginthedrawersofavastdesk.Finallyshepulledoutaparchmentdocument.
“Mywill,”sheexplained.“Gottoleaveyourmoneytosomeone—orsotheysay.IfIdiedwithoutawillIsupposethatsonofahorse-coperwouldgetit.Handsomefellow,HarryFletcher,butarogueifthereeverwasone.Don’tseewhyhissonshouldinheritthisplace.No,”shewenton,asthoughansweringsomeunspokenobjection,“I’vemadeupmymind.I’mleavingittoCresswell.”
“Yourhousekeeper?”
“Yes.I’veexplainedittoher.ImakeawillleavingherallI’vegotandthenIdon’tneedtopayheranywages.Savesmealotincurrentexpenses,anditkeepsheruptothemark.Nogivingmenoticeandwalkingoffatanyminute.Veryla-di-dahandallthat,isn’tshe?Butherfatherwasaworkingplumberinaverysmallway.She’snothingtogiveherselfairsabout.”
Shehadbynowunfoldedtheparchment.Pickingupapenshedippeditintheinkstandandwrotehersignature,KatherineDorothyGreenshaw.
“That’sright,”shesaid.“You’veseenmesignit,andthenyoutwosignit,andthatmakesitlegal.”
ShehandedthepentoRaymondWest.Hehesitatedamoment,feelinganunexpectedrepulsiontowhathewasaskedtodo.Thenhequicklyscrawledthewell-knownsignature,forwhichhismorning’smailusuallybroughtatleastsixdemandsaday.
Horacetookthepenfromhimandaddedhisownminutesignature.
“That’sdone,”saidMissGreenshaw.
Shemovedacrosstothebookcaseandstoodlookingatthemuncertainly,thensheopenedaglassdoor,tookoutabookandslippedthefoldedparchmentinside.
“I’vemyownplacesforkeepingthings,”shesaid.
“LadyAudley’sSecret,”RaymondWestremarked,catchingsightofthetitleasshereplacedthebook.
MissGreenshawgaveanothercackleoflaughter.
“Bestsellerinitsday,”sheremarked.“Notlikeyourbooks,eh?”
ShegaveRaymondasuddenfriendlynudgeintheribs.Raymondwasrathersurprisedthatsheevenknewhewrotebooks.AlthoughRaymondWestwasquiteanameinliterature,hecouldhardlybedescribedasabestseller.Thoughsofteningalittlewiththeadventofmiddleage,hisbooksdealtbleaklywiththesordidsideoflife.
“Iwonder,”Horacedemandedbreathlessly,“ifImightjusttakeaphotographoftheclock?”
“Byallmeans,”saidMissGreenshaw.“Itcame,Ibelieve,fromtheParisexhibition.”
“Veryprobably,”saidHorace.Hetookhispicture.
“Thisroom’snotbeenusedmuchsincemygrandfather’stime,”saidMissGreenshaw.“Thisdesk’sfullofolddiariesofhis.Interesting,Ishouldthink.Ihaven’ttheeyesighttoreadthemmyself.I’dliketogetthempublished,butIsupposeonewouldhavetoworkonthemagooddeal.”
“Youcouldengagesomeonetodothat,”saidRaymondWest.
“CouldIreally?It’sanidea,youknow.I’llthinkaboutit.”
RaymondWestglancedathiswatch.
“Wemustn’ttrespassonyourkindnessanylonger,”hesaid.
“Pleasedtohaveseenyou,”saidMissGreenshawgraciously.“ThoughtyouwerethepolicemanwhenIheardyoucomingroundthecornerofthehouse.”
“Whyapoliceman?”demandedHorace,whonevermindedaskingquestions.
MissGreenshawrespondedunexpectedly.
“Ifyouwanttoknowthetime,askapoliceman,”shecarolled,andwiththisexampleofVictorianwit,nudgedHoraceintheribsandroaredwithlaughter.
“It’sbeenawonderfulafternoon,”sighedHoraceastheywalkedhome.“Really,thatplacehaseverything.Theonlythingthelibraryneedsisabody.Thoseold-fashioneddetectivestoriesaboutmurderinthelibrary—that’sjustthekindoflibraryI’msuretheauthorshadinmind.”
“Ifyouwanttodiscussmurder,”saidRaymond,“youmusttalktomyAuntJane.”
“YourAuntJane?DoyoumeanMissMarple?”Hefeltalittleataloss.
Thecharmingold-worldladytowhomhehadbeenintroducedthenightbeforeseemedthelastpersontobementionedinconnectionwithmurder.
“Oh,yes,”saidRaymond.“Murderisaspecialityofhers.”
“Butmydear,howintriguing.Whatdoyoureallymean?”
“Imeanjustthat,”saidRaymond.Heparaphrased:“Somecommitmurder,somegetmixed-upinmurders,othershavemurderthrustuponthem.MyAuntJanecomesintothethirdcategory.”
“Youarejoking.”
“Notintheleast.IcanreferyoutotheformerCommissionerofScotlandYard,severalChiefConstablesandoneortwohardworkinginspectorsoftheCID.”
Horacesaidhappilythatwonderswouldnevercease.OvertheteatabletheygaveJoanWest,Raymond’swife,LouOxleyherniece,andoldMissMarple,arésuméoftheafternoon’shappenings,recountingindetaileverythingthatMissGreenshawhadsaidtothem.
“ButIdothink,”saidHorace,“thatthereissomethingalittlesinisteraboutthewholesetup.Thatduchess-likecreature,thehousekeeper—arsenic,perhaps,intheteapot,nowthatsheknowshermistresshasmadethewillinherfavour?”
“Tellus,AuntJane,”saidRaymond.“Willtherebemurderorwon’tthere?Whatdoyouthink?”
“Ithink,”saidMissMarple,windingupherwoolwitharathersevereair,“thatyoushouldn’tjokeaboutthesethingsasmuchasyoudo,Raymond.Arsenicis,ofcourse,quiteapossibility.Soeasytoobtain.Probablypresentinthetoolshedalreadyintheformofweedkiller.”
“Oh,really,darling,”saidJoanWest,affectionately.“Wouldn’tthatberathertooobvious?”
“It’sallverywelltomakeawill,”saidRaymond,“Idon’tsupposereallythepooroldthinghasanythingtoleaveexceptthatawfulwhiteelephantofahouse,andwhowouldwantthat?”
“Afilmcompanypossibly,”saidHorace,“orahoteloraninstitution?”
“They’dexpecttobuyitforasong,”saidRaymond,butMissMarplewasshakingherhead.
“Youknow,dearRaymond,Icannotagreewithyouthere.Aboutthemoney,Imean.Thegrandfatherwasevidentlyoneofthoselavishspenderswhomakemoneyeasily,butcan’tkeepit.Hemayhavegonebroke,asyousay,buthardlybankruptorelsehissonwouldnothavehadthehouse.Nowtheson,asissooftenthecase,wasanentirelydifferentcharactertohisfather.Amiser.Amanwhosavedeverypenny.Ishouldsaythatinthecourseofhislifetimeheprobablyputbyaverygoodsum.ThisMissGreenshawappearstohavetakenafterhim,todislikespendingmoney,thatis.Yes,Ishouldthinkitquitelikelythatshehadquiteagoodsumtuckedaway.”
“Inthatcase,”saidJoanWest,“Iwondernow—whataboutLou?”
TheylookedatLouasshesat,silent,bythefire.
LouwasJoanWest’sniece.Hermarriagehadrecently,assheherselfputit,comeunstuck,leavingherwithtwoyoungchildrenandabaresufficiencyofmoneytokeepthemon.
“Imean,”saidJoan,“ifthisMissGreenshawreallywantssomeonetogothroughdiariesandgetabookreadyforpublication….”
“It’sanidea,”saidRaymond.
Lousaidinalowvoice:
“It’sworkIcoulddo—andI’denjoyit.”
“I’llwritetoher,”saidRaymond.
“Iwonder,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully,“whattheoldladymeantbythatremarkaboutapoliceman?”
“Oh,itwasjustajoke.”
“Itremindedme,”saidMissMarple,noddingherheadvigorously,“yes,itremindedmeverymuchofMr.Naysmith.”
“WhowasMr.Naysmith?”askedRaymond,curiously.
“Hekeptbees,”saidMissMarple,“andwasverygoodatdoingtheacrosticsintheSundaypapers.Andhelikedgivingpeoplefalseimpressionsjustforfun.Butsometimesitledtotrouble.”
Everybodywassilentforamoment,consideringMr.Naysmith,butastheredidnotseemtobeanypointsofresemblancebetweenhimandMissGreenshaw,theydecidedthatdearAuntJanewasperhapsgettingalittlebitdisconnectedinheroldage.
HoraceBindlerwentbacktoLondonwithouthavingcollectedanymoremonstrositiesandRaymondWestwrotealettertoMissGreenshawtellingherthatheknewofaMrs.LouisaOxleywhowouldbecompetenttoundertakeworkonthediaries.Afteralapseofsomedays,aletterarrived,writteninspideryold-fashionedhandwriting,inwhichMissGreenshawdeclaredherselfanxioustoavailherselfoftheservicesofMrs.Oxley,andmakinganappointmentforMrs.Oxleytocomeandseeher.
Loudulykepttheappointment,generoustermswerearrangedandshestartedworkonthefollowingday.
“I’mawfullygratefultoyou,”shesaidtoRaymond.“Itwillfitinbeautifully.Icantakethechildrentoschool,goontoGreenshaw’sFollyandpickthemuponmywayback.Howfantasticthewholesetupis!Thatoldwomanhastobeseentobebelieved.”
Ontheeveningofherfirstdayatworkshereturnedanddescribedherday.
“I’vehardlyseenthehousekeeper,”shesaid.“Shecameinwithcoffeeandbiscuitsathalfpastelevenwithhermouthpursedupveryprunesandprisms,andwouldhardlyspeaktome.Ithinkshedisapprovesdeeplyofmyhavingbeenengaged.”Shewenton,“Itseemsthere’squiteafeudbetweenherandthegardener,Alfred.He’salocalboyandfairlylazy,Ishouldimagine,andheandthehousekeeperwon’tspeaktoeachother.MissGreenshawsaidinherrathergrandway,‘TherehavealwaysbeenfeudsasfarasIcanrememberbetweenthegardenandthehousestaff.Itwassoinmygrandfather’stime.Therewerethreemenandaboyinthegardenthen,andeightmaidsinthehouse,buttherewasalwaysfriction.’”
OnthefollowingdayLoureturnedwithanotherpieceofnews.
“Justfancy,”shesaid,“Iwasaskedtoringupthenephewthismorning.”
“MissGreenshaw’snephew?”
“Yes.Itseemshe’sanactorplayinginthecompanythat’sdoingasummerseasonatBorehamonSea.Irangupthetheatreandleftamessageaskinghimtolunchtomorrow.Ratherfun,really.Theoldgirldidn’twantthehousekeepertoknow.IthinkMrs.Cresswellhasdonesomethingthat’sannoyedher.”
“Tomorrowanotherinstalmentofthisthrillingserial,”murmuredRaymond.
“It’sexactlylikeaserial,isn’tit?Reconciliationwiththenephew,bloodisthickerthanwater—anotherwilltobemadeandtheoldwilldestroyed.”
“AuntJane,you’relookingveryserious.”
“WasI,mydear?Haveyouheardanymoreaboutthepoliceman?”
Loulookedbewildered.“Idon’tknowanythingaboutapoliceman.”
“Thatremarkofhers,mydear,”saidMissMarple,“musthavemeantsomething.”
Louarrivedatherworkthenextdayinacheerfulmood.Shepassedthroughtheopenfrontdoor—thedoorsandwindowsofthehousewerealwaysopen.MissGreenshawappearedtohavenofearofburglars,andwasprobablyjustified,asmostthingsinthehouseweighedseveraltonsandwereofnomarketablevalue.
LouhadpassedAlfredinthedrive.Whenshefirstcaughtsightofhimhehadbeenleaningagainstatreesmokingacigarette,butassoonashehadcaughtsightofherhehadseizedabroomandbegundiligentlytosweepleaves.Anidleyoungman,shethought,butgood-looking.Hisfeaturesremindedherofsomeone.AsshepassedthroughthehallonherwayupstairstothelibrarysheglancedatthelargepictureofNathanielGreenshawwhichpresidedoverthemantelpiece,showinghimintheacmeofVictorianprosperity,leaningbackinalargearmchair,hishandsrestingonthegoldalbertacrosshiscapaciousstomach.Asherglancesweptupfromthestomachtothefacewithitsheavyjowls,itsbushyeyebrowsanditsflourishingblackmoustache,thethoughtoccurredtoherthatNathanielGreenshawmusthavebeenhandsomeasayoungman.Hehadlooked,perhaps,alittlelikeAlfred.
Shewentintothelibrary,shutthedoorbehindher,openedhertypewriterandgotoutthediariesfromthedraweratthesideofthedesk.ThroughtheopenwindowshecaughtaglimpseofMissGreenshawinapuce-colouredspriggedprint,bendingovertherockery,weedingassiduously.Theyhadhadtwowetdays,ofwhichtheweedshadtakenfulladvantage.
Lou,atown-bredgirl,decidedthatifsheeverhadagardenitwouldnevercontainarockerywhichneededhandweeding.Thenshesettleddowntoherwork.
WhenMrs.Cresswellenteredthelibrarywiththecoffeetrayathalfpasteleven,shewasclearlyinaverybadtemper.Shebangedthetraydownonthetable,andobservedtotheuniverse.
“Companyforlunch—andnothinginthehouse!WhatamIsupposedtodo,Ishouldliketoknow?AndnosignofAlfred.”
“HewassweepinginthedrivewhenIgothere,”Louoffered.
“Idaresay.Anicesoftjob.”
Mrs.Cresswellsweptoutoftheroomandbangedthedoorbehindher.Lougrinnedtoherself.Shewonderedwhat“thenephew”wouldbelike.
Shefinishedhercoffeeandsettleddowntoherworkagain.Itwassoabsorbingthattimepassedquickly.NathanielGreenshaw,whenhestartedtokeepadiary,hadsuccumbedtothepleasureoffrankness.Tryingoutapassagerelatingtothepersonalcharmofabarmaidintheneighbouringtown,Loureflectedthatagooddealofeditingwouldbenecessary.
Asshewasthinkingthis,shewasstartledbyascreamfromthegarden.Jumpingup,sherantotheopenwindow.MissGreenshawwasstaggeringawayfromtherockerytowardsthehouse.HerhandswereclaspedtoherbreastandbetweenthemthereprotrudedafeatheredshaftthatLourecognizedwithstupefactiontobetheshaftofanarrow.
MissGreenshaw’shead,initsbatteredstrawhat,fellforwardonherbreast.ShecalleduptoLouinafailingvoice:“…shot…heshotme…withanarrow…gethelp….”
Lourushedtothedoor.Sheturnedthehandle,butthedoorwouldnotopen.Ittookheramomentortwooffutileendeavourtorealizethatshewaslockedin.Sherushedbacktothewindow.
“I’mlockedin.”
MissGreenshaw,herbacktowardsLou,andswayingalittleonherfeetwascallinguptothehousekeeperatawindowfartheralong.
“Ringpolice…telephone….”
Then,lurchingfromsidetosidelikeadrunkardshedisappearedfromLou’sviewthroughthewindowbelowintothedrawingroom.AmomentlaterLouheardacrashofbrokenchina,aheavyfall,andthensilence.Herimaginationreconstructedthescene.MissGreenshawmusthavestaggeredblindlyintoasmalltablewithaSèvresteasetonit.
DesperatelyLoupoundedonthedoor,callingandshouting.Therewasnocreeperordrainpipeoutsidethewindowthatcouldhelphertogetoutthatway.
Tiredatlastofbeatingonthedoor,shereturnedtothewindow.Fromthewindowofhersittingroomfartheralong,thehousekeeper’sheadappeared.
“Comeandletmeout,Mrs.Oxley.I’mlockedin.”
“SoamI.”
“Ohdear,isn’titawful?I’vetelephonedthepolice.There’sanextensioninthisroom,butwhatIcan’tunderstand,Mrs.Oxley,isourbeinglockedin.Ineverheardakeyturn,didyou?”
“No.Ididn’thearanythingatall.Ohdear,whatshallwedo?PerhapsAlfredmighthearus.”Loushoutedatthetopofhervoice,“Alfred,Alfred.”
“Gonetohisdinneraslikelyasnot.Whattimeisit?”
Louglancedatherwatch.
“Twenty-fivepasttwelve.”
“He’snotsupposedtogountilhalfpast,buthesneaksoffearlierwheneverhecan.”
“Doyouthink—doyouthink—”
Loumeanttoask“Doyouthinkshe’sdead?”butthewordsstuckinherthroat.
Therewasnothingtodobutwait.Shesatdownonthewindow-sill.Itseemedaneternitybeforethestolidhelmetedfigureofapoliceconstablecameroundthecornerofthehouse.Sheleantoutofthewindowandhelookedupather,shadinghiseyeswithhishand.Whenhespokehisvoiceheldreproof.
“What’sgoingonhere?”heaskeddisapprovingly.
Fromtheirrespectivewindows,LouandMrs.Cresswellpouredafloodofexcitedinformationdownonhim.
Theconstableproducedanotebookandpencil.“Youladiesranupstairsandlockedyourselvesin?CanIhaveyournames,please?”
“No.Somebodyelselockedusin.Comeandletusout.”
Theconstablesaidreprovingly,“Allingoodtime,”anddisappearedthroughthewindowbelow.
Onceagaintimeseemedinfinite.Louheardthesoundofacararriving,and,afterwhatseemedanhour,butwasactuallythreeminutes,firstMrs.CresswellandthenLou,werereleasedbyapolicesergeantmorealertthantheoriginalconstable.
“MissGreenshaw?”Lou’svoicefaltered.“What—what’shappened?”
Thesergeantclearedhisthroat.
“I’msorrytohavetotellyou,madam,”hesaid,“whatI’vealreadytoldMrs.Cresswellhere.MissGreenshawisdead.”
“Murdered,”saidMrs.Cresswell.“That’swhatitis—murder.”
Thesergeantsaiddubiously:
“Couldhavebeenanaccident—somecountryladsshootingwithbowsandarrows.”
Againtherewasthesoundofacararriving.Thesergeantsaid:
“That’llbetheMO,”andstarteddownstairs.
ButitwasnottheMO.AsLouandMrs.Cresswellcamedownthestairsayoungmansteppedhesitatinglythroughthefrontdoorandpaused,lookingroundhimwithasomewhatbewilderedair.
Then,speakinginapleasantvoicethatinsomewayseemedfamiliartoLou—perhapsithadafamilyresemblancetoMissGreenshaw’s—heasked:
“Excuseme,does—er—doesMissGreenshawlivehere?”
“MayIhaveyournameifyouplease,”saidthesergeantadvancinguponhim.
“Fletcher,”saidtheyoungman.“NatFletcher.I’mMissGreen-shaw’snephew,asamatteroffact.”
“Indeed,sir,well—I’msorry—I’msure—”
“Hasanythinghappened?”askedNatFletcher.
“There’sbeenan—accident—yourauntwasshotwithanarrow—penetratedthejugularvein—”
Mrs.Cresswellspokehystericallyandwithoutherusualrefinement:
“Yourh’aunt’sbeenmurdered,that’swhat’s’appened.Yourh’aunt’sbeenmurdered.”
InspectorWelchdrewhischairalittlenearertothetableandlethisgazewanderfromonetotheotherofthefourpeopleintheroom.Itwastheeveningofthesameday.HehadcalledattheWests’housetotakeLouOxleyoncemoreoverherstatement.
“Youaresureoftheexactwords?Shot—heshotme—withanarrow—gethelp?”
Lounodded.
“Andthetime?”
“Ilookedatmywatchaminuteortwolater—itwasthentwelvetwenty-five.”
“Yourwatchkeepsgoodtime?”
“Ilookedattheclockaswell.”
TheinspectorturnedtoRaymondWest.
“Itappears,sir,thataboutaweekagoyouandaMr.HoraceBindlerwerewitnessestoMissGreenshaw’swill?”
Briefly,RaymondrecountedtheeventsoftheafternoonvisitthatheandHoraceBindlerhadpaidtoGreenshaw’sFolly.
“Thistestimonyofyoursmaybeimportant,”saidWelch.“MissGreenshawdistinctlytoldyou,didshe,thatherwillwasbeingmadeinfavourofMrs.Cresswell,thehousekeeper,thatshewasnotpayingMrs.CresswellanywagesinviewoftheexpectationsMrs.Cresswellhadofprofitingbyherdeath?”
“Thatiswhatshetoldme—yes.”
“WouldyousaythatMrs.Cresswellwasdefinitelyawareofthesefacts?”
“Ishouldsayundoubtedly.MissGreenshawmadeareferenceinmypresencetobeneficiariesnotbeingabletowitnessawillandMrs.Cresswellclearlyunderstoodwhatshemeantbyit.Moreover,MissGreenshawherselftoldmethatshehadcometothisarrangementwithMrs.Cresswell.”
“SoMrs.Cresswellhadreasontobelieveshewasaninterestedparty.Motive’sclearenoughinhercase,andIdaresayshe’dbeourchiefsuspectnowifitwasn’tforthefactthatshewassecurelylockedinherroomlikeMrs.Oxleyhere,andalsothatMissGreenshawdefinitelysaidamanshother—”
“Shedefinitelywaslockedinherroom?”
“Ohyes.SergeantCayleyletherout.It’sabigold-fashionedlockwithabigold-fashionedkey.Thekeywasinthelockandthere’snotachancethatitcouldhavebeenturnedfrominsideoranyhanky-pankyofthatkind.No,youcantakeitdefinitelythatMrs.Cresswellwaslockedinsidethatroomandcouldn’tgetout.AndtherewerenobowsandarrowsintheroomandMissGreenshawcouldn’tinanycasehavebeenshotfromawindow—theangleforbidsit—no,Mrs.Cresswell’soutofit.”
Hepausedandwenton:
“WouldyousaythatMissGreenshaw,inyouropinion,wasapracticaljoker?”
MissMarplelookedupsharplyfromhercorner.
“Sothewillwasn’tinMrs.Cresswell’sfavourafterall?”shesaid.
InspectorWelchlookedoveratherinarathersurprisedfashion.
“That’saverycleverguessofyours,madam,”hesaid.“No.Mrs.Cresswellisn’tnamedasbeneficiary.”
“JustlikeMr.Naysmith,”saidMissMarple,noddingherhead.“MissGreenshawtoldMrs.Cresswellshewasgoingtoleavehereverythingandsogotoutofpayingherwages;andthenshelefthermoneytosomebodyelse.Nodoubtshewasvastlypleasedwithherself.NowondershechortledwhensheputthewillawayinLadyAudley’sSecret.”
“ItwasluckyMrs.Oxleywasabletotellusaboutthewillandwhereitwasput,”saidtheinspector.“Wemighthavehadalonghuntforitotherwise.”
“AVictoriansenseofhumour,”murmuredRaymondWest.“Soshelefthermoneytohernephewafterall,”saidLou.
Theinspectorshookhishead.
“No,”hesaid,“shedidn’tleaveittoNatFletcher.Thestorygoesaroundhere—ofcourseI’mnewtotheplaceandIonlygetthegossipthat’ssecondhand—butitseemsthatintheolddaysbothMissGreenshawandhersisterweresetonthehandsomeyoungridingmaster,andthesistergothim.No,shedidn’tleavethemoneytohernephew—”Hepaused,rubbinghischin,“SheleftittoAlfred,”hesaid.
“Alfred—thegardener?”Joanspokeinasurprisedvoice.
“Yes,Mrs.West.AlfredPollock.”
“Butwhy?”criedLou.
MissMarplecoughedandmurmured:
“Ishouldimagine,thoughperhapsIamwrong,thattheremayhavebeen—whatwemightcallfamilyreasons.”
“Youcouldcallthemthatinaway,”agreedtheinspector.“It’squitewell-knowninthevillage,itseems,thatThomasPollock,Alfred’sgrandfather,wasoneofoldMr.Greenshaw’sby-blows.”
“Ofcourse,”criedLou,“theresemblance!Isawitthismorning.”
SherememberedhowafterpassingAlfredshehadcomeintothehouseandlookedupatoldGreenshaw’sportrait.
“Idaresay,”saidMissMarple,“thatshethoughtAlfredPollockmighthaveaprideinthehouse,mightevenwanttoliveinit,whereashernephewwouldalmostcertainlyhavenouseforitwhateverandwouldsellitassoonashecouldpossiblydoso.He’sanactor,isn’the?Whatplayexactlyisheactinginatpresent?”
Trustanoldladytowanderfromthepoint,thoughtInspectorWelch,butherepliedcivilly:
“Ibelieve,madam,theyaredoingaseasonofJamesBarrie’splays.”
“Barrie,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.
“WhatEveryWomanKnows,”saidInspectorWelch,andthenblushed.“Nameofaplay,”hesaidquickly.“I’mnotmuchofatheatregoermyself,”headded,“butthewifewentalongandsawitlastweek.Quitewelldone,shesaiditwas.”
“Barriewrotesomeverycharmingplays,”saidMissMarple,“thoughImustsaythatwhenIwentwithanoldfriendofmine,GeneralEasterly,toseeBarrie’sLittleMary—”sheshookherheadsadly,“—neitherofusknewwheretolook.”
Theinspector,unacquaintedwiththeplayLittleMarylookedcompletelyfogged.MissMarpleexplained:
“WhenIwasagirl,Inspector,nobodyevermentionedthewordstomach.”
Theinspectorlookedevenmoreatsea.MissMarplewasmurmuringtitlesunderherbreath.
“TheAdmirableCrichton.Veryclever.MaryRose—acharmingplay.Icried,Iremember.QualityStreetIdidn’tcareforsomuch.ThentherewasAKissforCinderella.Oh,ofcourse.”
InspectorWelchhadnotimetowasteontheatricaldiscussion.Hereturnedtothematterinhand.
“Thequestionis,”hesaid,“didAlfredPollockknowthattheoldladyhadmadeawillinhisfavour?Didshetellhim?”Headded:“Yousee—there’sanarcherycluboveratBorehamLovellandAlfredPollock’samember.He’saverygoodshotindeedwithabowandarrow.”
“Thenisn’tyourcasequiteclear?”askedRaymondWest.“Itwouldfitinwiththedoorsbeinglockedonthetwowomen—he’dknowjustwheretheywereinthehouse.”
Theinspectorlookedathim.Hespokewithdeepmelancholy.
“He’sgotanalibi,”saidtheinspector.
“Ialwaysthinkalibisaredefinitelysuspicious.”
“Maybe,sir,”saidInspectorWelch.“You’retalkingasawriter.”
“Idon’twritedetectivestories,”saidRaymondWest,horrifiedatthemereidea.
“Easyenoughtosaythatalibisaresuspicious,”wentonInspectorWelch,“butunfortunatelywe’vegottodealwithfacts.”
Hesighed.
“We’vegotthreegoodsuspects,”hesaid.“Threepeoplewho,asithappened,wereverycloseuponthesceneatthetime.Yettheoddthingisthatitlooksasthoughnoneofthethreecouldhavedoneit.ThehousekeeperI’vealreadydealtwith—thenephew,NatFletcher,atthemomentMissGreenshawwasshot,wasacoupleofmilesawayfillinguphiscaratagarageandaskinghisway—asforAlfredPollocksixpeoplewillswearthatheenteredtheDogandDuckattwentypasttwelveandwasthereforanhourhavinghisusualbreadandcheeseandbeer.”
“Deliberatelyestablishinganalibi,”saidRaymondWesthopefully.
“Maybe,”saidInspectorWelch,“butifso,hedidestablishit.”
Therewasalongsilence.ThenRaymondturnedhisheadtowhereMissMarplesatuprightandthoughtful.
“It’suptoyou,AuntJane,”hesaid.“Theinspector’sbaffled,thesergeant’sbaffled,I’mbaffled,Joan’sbaffled,Louisbaffled.Buttoyou,AuntJane,itiscrystalclear.AmIright?”
“Iwouldn’tsaythat,dear,”saidMissMarple,“notcrystalclear,andmurder,dearRaymond,isn’tagame.Idon’tsupposepoorMissGreenshawwantedtodie,anditwasaparticularlybrutalmurder.Verywellplannedandquitecold-blooded.It’snotathingtomakejokesabout!”
“I’msorry,”saidRaymond,abashed.“I’mnotreallyascallousasIsound.Onetreatsathinglightlytotakeawayfromthe—well,thehorrorofit.”
“Thatis,Ibelieve,themoderntendency,”saidMissMarple,“Allthesewars,andhavingtojokeaboutfunerals.Yes,perhapsIwasthoughtlesswhenIsaidyouwerecallous.”
“Itisn’t,”saidJoan,“asthoughwe’dknownheratallwell.”
“Thatisverytrue,”saidMissMarple.“You,dearJoan,didnotknowheratall.Ididnotknowheratall.Raymondgatheredanimpressionofherfromoneafternoon’sconversation.Louknewherfortwodays.”
“Comenow,AuntJane,”saidRaymond,“tellusyourviews.Youdon’tmind,Inspector?”
“Notatall,”saidtheinspectorpolitely.
“Well,mydear,itwouldseemthatwehavethreepeoplewhohad,ormighthavethoughttheyhad,amotivetokilltheoldlady.Andthreequitesimplereasonswhynoneofthethreecouldhavedoneso.ThehousekeepercouldnothavedonesobecauseshewaslockedinherroomandbecauseMissGreenshawdefinitelystatedthatamanshother.ThegardenercouldnothavedoneitbecausehewasinsidetheDogandDuckatthetimethemurderwascommitted,thenephewcouldnothavedoneitbecausehewasstillsomedistanceawayinhiscaratthetimeofthemurder.”
“Veryclearlyput,madam,”saidtheinspector.
“Andsinceitseemsmostunlikelythatanyoutsidershouldhavedoneit,where,then,arewe?”
“That’swhattheinspectorwantstoknow,”saidRaymondWest.
“Onesooftenlooksatathingthewrongwayround,”saidMissMarpleapologetically.“Ifwecan’talterthemovementsorthepositionofthosethreepeople,thencouldn’tweperhapsalterthetimeofthemurder?”
“Youmeanthatbothmywatchandtheclockwerewrong?”askedLou.
“Nodear,”saidMissMarple,“Ididn’tmeanthatatall.Imeanthatthemurderdidn’toccurwhenyouthoughtitoccurred.”
“ButIsawit,”criedLou.
“Well,whatIhavebeenwondering,mydear,waswhetheryouweren’tmeanttoseeit.I’vebeenaskingmyself,youknow,whetherthatwasn’ttherealreasonwhyyouwereengagedforthisjob.”
“Whatdoyoumean,AuntJane?”
“Well,dear,itseemsodd.MissGreenshawdidnotlikespendingmoney,andyetsheengagedyouandagreedquitewillinglytothetermsyouasked.Itseemstomethatperhapsyouweremeanttobethereinthatlibraryonthefirstfloor,lookingoutofthewindowsothatyoucouldbethekeywitness—someonefromoutsideofirreproachablegoodfaith—tofixadefinitetimeandplaceforthemurder.”
“Butyoucan’tmean,”saidLou,incredulously,“thatMissGreenshawintendedtobemurdered.”
“WhatImean,dear,”saidMissMarple,“isthatyoudidn’treallyknowMissGreenshaw.There’snorealreason,isthere,whytheMissGreenshawyousawwhenyouwentuptothehouseshouldbethesameMissGreenshawthatRaymondsawafewdaysearlier?Oh,yes,Iknow,”shewenton,topreventLou’sreply,“shewaswearingthepeculiarold-fashionedprintdressandthestrangestrawhat,andhadunkempthair.ShecorrespondedexactlytothedescriptionRaymondgaveuslastweekend.Butthosetwowomen,youknow,weremuchofanageandheightandsize.Thehousekeeper,Imean,andMissGreenshaw.”
“Butthehousekeeperisfat!”Louexclaimed.“She’sgotanenormousbosom.”
MissMarplecoughed.
“Butmydear,surely,nowadaysIhaveseen—er—themmyselfinshopsmostindelicatelydisplayed.Itisveryeasyforanyonetohavea—abust—ofanysizeanddimension.”
“Whatareyoutryingtosay?”demandedRaymond.
“Iwasjustthinking,dear,thatduringthetwoorthreedaysLouwasworkingthere,onewomancouldhaveplayedthetwoparts.Yousaidyourself,Lou,thatyouhardlysawthehousekeeper,exceptfortheonemomentinthemorningwhenshebroughtyouinthetraywithcoffee.Oneseesthosecleverartistsonthestagecominginasdifferentcharacterswithonlyaminuteortwotospare,andIamsurethechangecouldhavebeeneffectedquiteeasily.Thatmarquisehead-dresscouldbejustawigslippedonandoff.”
“AuntJane!DoyoumeanthatMissGreenshawwasdeadbeforeIstartedworkthere?”
“Notdead.Keptunderdrugs,Ishouldsay.Averyeasyjobforanunscrupulouswomanlikethehousekeepertodo.Thenshemadethearrangementswithyouandgotyoutotelephonetothenephewtoaskhimtolunchatadefinitetime.TheonlypersonwhowouldhaveknownthatthisMissGreenshawwasnotMissGreenshawwouldhavebeenAlfred.Andifyouremember,thefirsttwodaysyouwereworkingthereitwaswet,andMissGreenshawstayedinthehouse.Alfrednevercameintothehousebecauseofhisfeudwiththehousekeeper.AndonthelastmorningAlfredwasinthedrive,whileMissGreenshawwasworkingontherockery—I’dliketohavealook
“DoyoumeanitwasMrs.CresswellwhokilledMissGreenshaw?”
“Ithinkthatafterbringingyouyourcoffee,thewomanlockedthedooronyouasshewentout,carriedtheunconsciousMissGreenshawdowntothedrawingroom,thenassumedher‘MissGreenshaw’disguiseandwentouttoworkontherockerywhereyoucouldseeherfromthewindow.Induecourseshescreamedandcamestaggeringtothehouseclutchinganarrowasthoughithadpenetratedherthroat.Shecalledforhelpandwascarefultosay‘heshotme’soastoremovesuspicionfromthehousekeeper.Shealsocalleduptothehousekeeper’swindowasthoughshesawherthere.Then,onceinsidethedrawingroom,shethrewoveratablewithporcelainonit—andranquicklyupstairs,putonhermarquisewigandwasableafewmomentslatertoleanherheadoutofthewindowandtellyouthatshe,too,waslockedin.”
“Butshewaslockedin,”saidLou.
“Iknow.Thatiswherethepolicemancomesin.”
“Whatpoliceman?”
“Exactly—whatpoliceman?Iwonder,Inspector,ifyouwouldmindtellingmehowandwhenyouarrivedonthescene?”
Theinspectorlookedalittlepuzzled.
“Attwelvetwenty-ninewereceivedatelephonecallfromMrs.Cresswell,housekeepertoMissGreenshaw,statingthathermistresshadbeenshot.SergeantCayleyandmyselfwentoutthereatonceinacarandarrivedatthehouseattwelvethirty-five.WefoundMissGreenshawdeadandthetwoladieslockedintheirrooms.”
“So,yousee,mydear,”saidMissMarpletoLou.“Thepoliceconstableyousawwasn’tarealpoliceconstable.Youneverthoughtofhimagain—onedoesn’t—onejustacceptsonemoreuniformaspartofthelaw.”
“Butwho—why?”
“Astowho—well,iftheyareplayingAKissforCinderella,apolicemanistheprincipalcharacter.NatFletcherwouldonlyhavetohelphimselftothecostumehewearsonthestage.He’daskhiswayatagaragebeingcarefultocallattentiontothetime—twelvetwenty-five,thendriveonquickly,leavehiscarroundacorner,sliponhispoliceuniformanddohis‘act.’”
“Butwhy?—why?”
“Someonehadtolockthehousekeeper’sdoorontheoutside,andsomeonehadtodrivethearrowthroughMissGreenshaw’sthroat.Youcanstabanyonewithanarrowjustaswellasbyshootingit—butitneedsforce.”
“Youmeantheywerebothinit?”
“Ohyes,Ithinkso.Motherandsonaslikelyasnot.”
“ButMissGreenshaw’ssisterdiedlongago.”
“Yes,butI’venodoubtMr.Fletchermarriedagain.Hesoundsthesortofmanwhowould,andIthinkitpossiblethatthechilddiedtoo,andthatthisso-callednephewwasthesecondwife’schild,andnotreallyarelationatall.Thewomangotapostashousekeeperandspiedouttheland.Thenhewroteashernephewandproposedtocalluponher—hemayhavemadesomejokingreferencetocominginhispoliceman’suniform—oraskedherovertoseetheplay.ButIthinkshesuspectedthetruthandrefusedtoseehim.Hewouldhavebeenherheirifshehaddiedwithoutmakingawill—butofcourseonceshehadmadeawillinthehousekeeper’sfavour(astheythought)thenitwasclearsailing.”
“Butwhyuseanarrow?”objectedJoan.“Soveryfar-fetched.”
“Notfar-fetchedatall,dear.Alfredbelongedtoanarcheryclub—Alfredwasmeanttotaketheblame.Thefactthathewasinthepubasearlyastwelvetwentywasmostunfortunatefromtheirpointofview.Healwaysleftalittlebeforehispropertimeandthatwouldhavebeenjustright—”sheshookherhead.“Itreallyseemsallwrong—morally,Imean,thatAlfred’slazinessshouldhavesavedhislife.”
Theinspectorclearedhisthroat.
“Well,madam,thesesuggestionsofyoursareveryinteresting.Ishallhave,ofcourse,toinvestigate—”
MissMarpleandRaymondWeststoodbytherockeryandlookeddownatthatgardeningbasketfullofdyingvegetation.
MissMarplemurmured:
“Alyssum,saxifrage,cytisus,thimblecampanula…Yes,that’salltheproofIneed.Whoeverwasweedinghereyesterdaymorningwasnogardener—shepulledupplantsaswellasweeds.SonowIknowI’mright.Thankyou,dearRaymond,forbringingmehere.Iwantedtoseetheplaceformyself.”
SheandRaymondbothlookedupattheoutrageouspileofGreenshaw’sFolly.
Acoughmadethemturn.Ahandsomeyoungmanwasalsolookingatthehouse.
“Plagueybigplace,”hesaid.“Toobigfornowadays—orsotheysay.Idunnoaboutthat.IfIwonafootballpoolandmadealotofmoney,that’sthekindofhouseI’dliketobuild.”
Hesmiledbashfullyatthem.
“ReckonIcansaysonow—thattherehousewasbuiltbymygreat-grandfather,”saidAlfredPollock.“Andafinehouseitis,foralltheycallitGreenshaw’sFolly!”
Twenty
SANCTUARY
Thevicar’swifecameroundthecornerofthevicaragewithherarmsfullofchrysanthemums.Agooddealofrichgardensoilwasattachedtoherstrongbrogueshoesandafewfragmentsofearthwereadheringtohernose,butofthatfactshewasperfectlyunconscious.
Shehadaslightstruggleinopeningthevicaragegatewhichhung,rustily,halfoffitshinges.Apuffofwindcaughtatherbatteredfelthat,causingittositevenmorerakishlythanithaddonebefore.“Bother!”saidBunch.
ChristenedbyheroptimisticparentsDiana,Mrs.HarmonhadbecomeBunchatanearlyageforsomewhatobviousreasonsandthenamehadstucktohereversince.Clutchingthechrysanthemums,shemadeherwaythroughthegatetothechurchyard,andsotothechurchdoor.
TheNovemberairwasmildanddamp.Cloudsscuddedacrosstheskywithpatchesofbluehereandthere.Inside,thechurchwasdarkandcold;itwasunheatedexceptatservicetimes.
“Brrrrrh!”saidBunchexpressively.“I’dbettergetonwiththisquickly.Idon’twanttodieofcold.”
Withthequicknessbornofpracticeshecollectedthenecessaryparaphernalia:vases,water,flower-holders.“Iwishwehadlilies,”thoughtBunchtoherself.“Igetsotiredofthesescraggychrysanthemums.”Hernimblefingersarrangedthebloomsintheirholders.
Therewasnothingparticularlyoriginalorartisticaboutthedecorations,forBunchHarmonherselfwasneitheroriginalnorartistic,butitwasahomelyandpleasantarrangement.Carryingthevasescarefully,Bunchsteppeduptheaisleandmadeherwaytowardsthealtar.Asshedidsothesuncameout.
Itshonethroughtheeastwindowofsomewhatcrudecolouredglass,mostlyblueandred—thegiftofawealthyVictorianchurchgoer.Theeffectwasalmoststartlinginitssuddenopulence.“Likejewels,”thoughtBunch.Suddenlyshestopped,staringaheadofher.Onthechancelstepswasahuddleddarkform.
Puttingdowntheflowerscarefully,Bunchwentuptoitandbentoverit.Itwasamanlyingthere,huddledoveronhimself.Bunchkneltdownbyhimandslowly,carefully,sheturnedhimover.Herfingerswenttohispulse—apulsesofeebleandflutteringthatittolditsownstory,asdidthealmostgreenishpallorofhisface.Therewasnodoubt,Bunchthought,thatthemanwasdying.
Hewasamanofaboutforty-five,dressedinadark,shabbysuit.Shelaiddownthelimphandshehadpickedupandlookedathisotherhand.Thisseemedclenchedlikeafistonhisbreast.Lookingmorecloselyshesawthatthefingerswereclosedoverwhatseemedtobealargewadorhandkerchiefwhichhewasholdingtightlytohischest.Allroundtheclenchedhandthereweresplashesofadrybrownfluidwhich,Bunchguessed,wasdryblood.Bunchsatbackonherheels,frowning.
Uptillnowtheman’seyeshadbeenclosedbutatthispointtheysuddenlyopenedandfixedthemselvesonBunch’sface.Theywereneitherdazednorwandering.Theyseemedfullyaliveandintelligent.Hislipsmoved,andBunchbentforwardtocatchthewords,orrathertheword.Itwasonlyonewordthathesaid:
“Sanctuary.”
Therewas,shethought,justaveryfaintsmileashebreathedoutthisword.Therewasnomistakingit,forafteramomenthesaiditagain,“Sanctuary….”
Then,withafaint,long-drawn-outsigh,hiseyesclosedagain.OncemoreBunch’sfingerswenttohispulse.Itwasstillthere,butfainternowandmoreintermittent.Shegotupwithdecision.
“Don’tmove,”shesaid,“ortrytomove.I’mgoingforhelp.”
Theman’seyesopenedagainbutheseemednowtobefixinghisattentiononthecolouredlightthatcamethroughtheeastwindow.HemurmuredsomethingthatBunchcouldnotquitecatch.Shethought,startled,thatitmighthavebeenherhusband’sname.
“Julian?”shesaid.“DidyoucomeheretofindJulian?”Buttherewasnoanswer.Themanlaywitheyesclosed,hisbreathingcominginslow,shallowfashion.
Bunchturnedandleftthechurchrapidly.Sheglancedatherwatchandnoddedwithsomesatisfaction.Dr.Griffithswouldstillbeinhissurgery.Itwasonlyacoupleofminutes’walkfromthechurch.Shewentin,withoutwaitingtoknockorring,passingthroughthewaitingroomandintothedoctor’ssurgery.
“Youmustcomeatonce,”saidBunch.“There’samandyinginthechurch.”
SomeminuteslaterDr.Griffithsrosefromhiskneesafterabriefexamination
“Canwemovehimfromhereintothevicarage?Icanattendtohimbetterthere—notthatit’sanyuse.”
“Ofcourse,”saidBunch.“I’llgoalongandgetthingsready.I’llgetHarperandJones,shallI?Tohelpyoucarryhim.”
“Thanks.Icantelephonefromthevicarageforanambulance,butI’mafraid—bythetimeitcomes….”Helefttheremarkunfinished.
Bunchsaid,“Internalbleeding?”
Dr.Griffithsnodded.Hesaid,“Howonearthdidhecomehere?”
“Ithinkhemusthavebeenhereallnight,”saidBunch,considering.“Harperunlocksthechurchinthemorningashegoestowork,buthedoesn’tusuallycomein.”
ItwasaboutfiveminuteslaterwhenDr.Griffithsputdownthetelephonereceiverandcamebackintothemorningroomwheretheinjuredmanwaslyingonquicklyarrangedblanketsonthesofa.Bunchwasmovingabasinofwaterandclearingupafterthedoctor’sexamination.
“Well,that’sthat,”saidGriffiths.“I’vesentforanambulanceandI’venotifiedthepolice.”Hestood,frowning,lookingdownonthepatientwholaywithclosedeyes.Hislefthandwaspluckinginanervous,spasmodicwayathisside.
“Hewasshot,”saidGriffiths.“Shotatfairlyclosequarters.Herolledhishandkerchiefupintoaballandpluggedthewoundwithitsoastostopthebleeding.”
“Couldhehavegonefarafterthathappened?”Bunchasked.
“Oh,yes,it’squitepossible.Amortallywoundedmanhasbeenknowntopickhimselfupandwalkalongastreetasthoughnothinghadhappened,andthensuddenlycollapsefiveortenminuteslater.Soheneedn’thavebeenshotinthechurch.Ohno.Hemayhavebeenshotsomedistanceaway.Ofcourse,hemayhaveshothimselfandthendroppedtherevolverandstaggeredblindlytowardsthechurch.Idon’tquiteknowwhyhemadeforthechurchandnotforthevicarage.”
“Oh,Iknowthat,”saidBunch.“Hesaidit:‘Sanctuary.’”
Thedoctorstaredather.“Sanctuary?”
“Here’sJulian,”saidBunch,turningherheadassheheardherhusband’sstepsinthehall.“Julian!Comehere.”
TheReverendJulianHarmonenteredtheroom.Hisvague,scholarlymanneralwaysmadehimappearmucholderthanhereallywas.“Dearme!”saidJulianHarmon,staringinamild,puzzledmanneratthesurgicalappliancesandthepronefigureonthesofa.
Bunchexplainedwithherusualeconomyofwords.“Hewasinthechurch,dying.He’dbeenshot.Doyouknowhim,Julian?Ithoughthesaidyourname.”
Thevicarcameuptothesofaandlookeddownatthedyingman.“Poorfellow,”hesaid,andshookhishead.“No,Idon’tknowhim.I’malmostsureI’veneverseenhimbefore.”
Atthatmomentthedyingman’seyesopenedoncemore.TheywentfromthedoctortoJulianHarmonandfromhimtohiswife.Theeyesstayedthere,staringintoBunch’sface.Griffithssteppedforward.
“Ifyoucouldtellus,”hesaidurgently.
ButwitheyesfixedonBunch,themansaidinaweakvoice,“Please—please—”Andthen,withaslighttremor,hedied….
SergeantHayeslickedhispencilandturnedthepageofhisnotebook.
“Sothat’sallyoucantellme,Mrs.Harmon?”
“That’sall,”saidBunch.“Thesearethethingsoutofhiscoatpockets.”
OnatableatSergeantHayes’selbowwasawallet,aratherbatteredoldwatchwiththeinitialsW.S.andthereturnhalfofatickettoLondon.Nothingmore.
“You’vefoundoutwhoheis?”askedBunch.
“AMr.andMrs.Ecclesphonedupthestation.He’sherbrother,itseems.NameofSandbourne.Beeninalowstateofhealthandnervesforsometime.He’sbeengettingworselately.Thedaybeforeyesterdayhewalkedoutanddidn’tcomeback.Hetookarevolverwithhim.”
“Andhecameouthereandshothimselfwithit?”saidBunch.“Why?”
“Well,yousee,he’dbeendepressed….”
Bunchinterruptedhim.“Idon’tmeanthat.Imean,whyhere?”
SinceSergeantHayesobviouslydidnotknowtheanswertothatone,herepliedinanobliquefashion,“Comeouthere,hedid,onthefivetenbus.”
“Yes,”saidBunchagain.“Butwhy?”
“Idon’tknow,Mrs.Harmon,”saidSergeantHayes.“There’snoaccounting.Ifthebalanceofthemindisdisturbed—”
Bunchfinishedforhim.“Theymaydoitanywhere.Butitstillseemstomeunnecessarytotakeabusouttoasmallcountryplacelikethis.Hedidn’tknowanyonehere,didhe?”
“Notsofarascanbeascertained,”saidSergeantHayes.Hecoughedinanapologeticmannerandsaid,asherosetohisfeet,“ItmaybeasMr.andMrs.Eccleswillcomeoutandseeyou,ma’am—ifyoudon’tmind,thatis.”
“OfcourseIdon’tmind,”saidBunch.“It’sverynatural.IonlywishIhadsomethingtotellthem.”
“I’llbegettingalong,”saidSergeantHayes.
“I’monlysothankful,”saidBunch,goingwithhimtothefrontdoor,“thatitwasn’tmurder.”
Acarhaddrivenupatthevicaragegate.SergeantHayes,glancingatit,remarked:“Looksasthoughthat’sMr.andMrs.Ecclescomeherenow,ma’am,totalkwithyou.”
Bunchbracedherselftoendurewhat,shefelt,mightberatheradifficultordeal.“However,”shethought,“IcanalwayscallJuliantohelpme.Aclergyman’sagreathelpwhenpeoplearebereaved.”
ExactlywhatshehadexpectedMr.andMrs.Ecclestobelike,Bunchcouldnothavesaid,butshewasconscious,asshegreetedthem,ofafeelingofsurprise.Mr.Eccleswasastoutfloridmanwhosenaturalmannerwouldhavebeencheerfulandfacetious.Mrs.Eccleshadavaguelyflashylookabouther.Shehadasmall,mean,pursed-upmouth.Hervoicewasthinandreedy.
“It’sbeenaterribleshock,Mrs.Harmon,asyoucanimagine,”shesaid.
“Oh,Iknow,”saidBunch.“Itmusthavebeen.Dositdown.CanIofferyou—well,perhapsit’salittleearlyfortea—”
Mr.Eccleswavedapudgyhand.“No,no,nothingforus,”hesaid.“It’sverykindofyou,I’msure.Justwantedto…well…whatpoorWilliamsaidandallthat,youknow?”
“He’sbeenabroadalongtime,”saidMrs.Eccles,“andIthinkhemusthavehadsomeverynastyexperiences.Veryquietanddepressedhe’sbeen,eversincehecamehome.Saidtheworldwasn’tfittoliveinandtherewasnothingtolookforwardto.PoorBill,hewasalwaysmoody.”
Bunchstaredatthembothforamomentortwowithoutspeaking.
“Pinchedmyhusband’srevolver,hedid,”wentonMrs.Eccles.“Withoutourknowing.Thenitseemshecomeherebybus.Isupposethatwasnicefeelingonhispart.Hewouldn’thavelikedtodoitinourhouse.”
“Poorfellow,poorfellow,”saidMr.Eccles,withasigh.“Itdoesn’tdotojudge.”
Therewasanothershortpause,andMr.Ecclessaid,“Didheleaveamessage?Anylastwords,nothinglikethat?”
Hisbright,ratherpig-likeeyeswatchedBunchclosely.Mrs.Eccles,too,leanedforwardasthoughanxiousforthereply.
“No,”saidBunchquietly.“Hecameintothechurchwhenhewasdying,forsanctuary.”
Mrs.Ecclessaidinapuzzledvoice.“Sanctuary?Idon’tthinkIquite….”
Mr.Ecclesinterrupted.“Holyplace,mydear,”hesaidimpatiently.“That’swhatthevicar’swifemeans.It’sasin—suicide,youknow.Iexpecthewantedtomakeamends.”
“Hetriedtosaysomethingjustbeforehedied,”saidBunch.“Hebegan,‘Please,’butthat’sasfarashegot.”
Mrs.Ecclesputherhandkerchieftohereyesandsniffed.“Oh,dear,”shesaid.“It’sterriblyupsetting,isn’tit?”
“There,there,Pam,”saidherhusband.“Don’ttakeon.Thesethingscan’tbehelped.PoorWillie.Still,he’satpeacenow.Well,thankyouverymuch,Mrs.Harmon.Ihopewehaven’tinterruptedyou.Avicar’swifeisabusylady,weknowthat.”
Theyshookhandswithher.ThenEcclesturnedbacksuddenlytosay,“Ohyes,there’sjustoneotherthing.Ithinkyou’vegothiscoathere,haven’tyou?”
“Hiscoat?”Bunchfrowned.
Mrs.Ecclessaid,“We’dlikeallhisthings,youknow.Sentimental-like.”
“Hehadawatchandawalletandarailwayticketinthepockets,”saidBunch.“IgavethemtoSergeantHayes.”
“That’sallright,then,”saidMr.Eccles.“He’llhandthemovertous,Iexpect.Hisprivatepaperswouldbeinthewallet.”
“Therewasapoundnoteinthewallet,”saidBunch.“Nothingelse.”
“Noletters?Nothinglikethat?”
Bunchshookherhead.
“Well,thankyouagain,Mrs.Harmon.Thecoathewaswearing—perhapsthesergeant’sgotthattoo,hashe?”
Bunchfrownedinaneffortofremembrance.
“No,”shesaid.“Idon’tthink…letmesee.ThedoctorandItookhiscoatofftoexaminehiswound.”Shelookedroundtheroomvaguely.“Imusthavetakenitupstairswiththetowelsandbasin.”
“Iwondernow,Mrs.Harmon,ifyoudon’tmind…We’dlikehiscoat,youknow,thelastthinghewore.Well,thewifefeelsrathersentimentalaboutit.”
“Ofcourse,”saidBunch.“Wouldyoulikemetohaveitcleanedfirst?I’mafraidit’srather—well—stained.”
“Oh,no,no,no,thatdoesn’tmatter.”
Bunchfrowned.“NowIwonderwhere…excusemeamoment.”Shewentupstairsanditwassomefewminutesbeforeshereturned.
“I’msosorry,”shesaidbreathlessly,“mydailywomanmusthaveputitasidewithotherclothesthatweregoingtothecleaners.It’stakenmequitealongtimetofindit.Hereitis.I’lldoitupforyouinbrownpaper.”
Disclaimingtheirprotestsshedidso;thenoncemoreeffusivelybiddingherfarewelltheEcclesesdeparted.
Bunchwentslowlybackacrossthehallandenteredthestudy.TheReverendJulianHarmonlookedupandhisbrowcleared.Hewascomposingasermonandwasfearingthathe’dbeenledastraybytheinterestofthepoliticalrelationsbetweenJudaeaandPersia,inthereignofCyrus.
“Yes,dear?”hesaidhopefully.
“Julian,”saidBunch.“What’sSanctuaryexactly?”
JulianHarmongratefullyputasidehissermonpaper.
“Well,”hesaid.“SanctuaryinRomanandGreektemplesappliedtothecellainwhichstoodthestatueofagod.TheLatinwordforaltar‘ara’alsomeansprotection.”Hecontinuedlearnedly:“Inthreehundredandninety-nineA.D.therightofsanctuaryinChristianchurcheswasfinallyanddefinitelyrecognized.TheearliestmentionoftherightofsanctuaryinEnglandisintheCodeofLawsissuedbyEthelbertinA.D.sixhundred….”
Hecontinuedforsometimewithhisexpositionbutwas,asoften,disconcertedbyhiswife’sreceptionofhiseruditepronouncement.
“Darling,”shesaid.“Youaresweet.”
Bendingover,shekissedhimonthetipofhisnose.Julianfeltratherlikeadogwhohasbeencongratulatedonperformingaclevertrick.
“TheEccleseshavebeenhere,”saidBunch.
Thevicarfrowned.“TheEccleses?Idon’tseemtoremember….”
“Youdon’tknowthem.They’rethesisterandherhusbandofthemaninthechurch.”
“Mydear,yououghttohavecalledme.”
“Therewasn’tanyneed,”saidBunch.“Theywerenotinneedofconsolation.Iwondernow….”Shefrowned.“IfIputacasseroleintheoventomorrow,canyoumanage,Julian?IthinkIshallgouptoLondonforthesales.”
“Thesails?”Herhusbandlookedatherblankly.“Doyoumeanayachtoraboatorsomething?”
Bunchlaughed.“No,darling.There’saspecialwhitesaleatBurrowsandPortman’s.Youknow,sheets,tableclothsandtowelsandglass-cloths.Idon’tknowwhatwedowithourglass-cloths,thewaytheywearthrough.Besides,”sheaddedthoughtfully,“IthinkIoughttogoandseeAuntJane.”
Thatsweetoldlady,MissJaneMarple,wasenjoyingthedelightsofthemetropolisforafortnight,comfortablyinstalledinhernephew’sstudioflat.
“SokindofdearRaymond,”shemurmured.“HeandJoanhavegonetoAmericaforafortnightandtheyinsistedIshouldcomeuphereandenjoymyself.Andnow,dearBunch,dotellmewhatitisthat’sworryingyou.”
BunchwasMissMarple’sfavouritegodchild,andtheoldladylookedatherwithgreataffectionasBunch,thrustingherbestfelthatfartheronthebackofherhead,startedherstory.
Bunch’srecitalwasconciseandclear.MissMarplenoddedherheadasBunchfinished.“Isee,”shesaid.“Yes,Isee.”
“That’swhyIfeltIhadtoseeyou,”saidBunch.“Yousee,notbeingclever—”
“Butyouareclever,mydear.”
“No,I’mnot.NotcleverlikeJulian.”
“Julian,ofcourse,hasaverysolidintellect,”saidMissMarple.
“That’sit,”saidBunch.“Julian’sgottheintellect,butontheotherhand,I’vegotthesense.”
“Youhavealotofcommonsense,Bunch,andyou’reveryintelligent.”
“Yousee,Idon’treallyknowwhatIoughttodo.Ican’taskJulianbecause—well,Imean,Julian’ssofullofrectitude….”
ThisstatementappearedtobeperfectlyunderstoodbyMissMarple,whosaid,“Iknowwhatyoumean,dear.Wewomen—well,it’sdifferent.”Shewenton.“Youtoldmewhathappened,Bunch,butI’dliketoknowfirstexactlywhatyouthink.”
“It’sallwrong,”saidBunch.“Themanwhowasthereinthechurch,dying,knewallaboutSanctuary.HesaiditjustthewayJulianwouldhavesaidit.Imean,hewasawell-read,educatedman.Andifhe’dshothimself,hewouldn’tdraghimselftoachurchafterwardsandsay‘sanctuary.’Sanctuarymeansthatyou’repursued,andwhenyougetintoachurchyou’resafe.Yourpursuerscan’ttouchyou.Atonetimeeventhelawcouldn’tgetatyou.”
ShelookedquestioninglyatMissMarple.Thelatternodded.Bunchwenton,“Thosepeople,theEccleses,werequitedifferent.Ignorantandcoarse.Andthere’sanotherthing.Thatwatch—thedeadman’swatch.IthadtheinitialsW.S.onthebackofit.Butinside—Iopenedit—inverysmallletteringtherewas‘ToWalterfromhisfather’andadate.Walter.ButtheEccleseskepttalkingofhimasWilliamorBill.”
MissMarpleseemedabouttospeakbutBunchrushedon.“Oh,Iknowyou’renotalwayscalledthenameyou’rebaptizedby.Imean,IcanunderstandthatyoumightbechristenedWilliamandcalled‘Porgy’or‘Carrots’orsomething.Butyoursisterwouldn’tcallyouWilliamorBillifyournamewasWalter.”
“Youmeanthatshewasn’thissister?”
“I’mquitesureshewasn’thissister.Theywerehorrid—bothofthem.Theycametothevicaragetogethisthingsandtofindoutifhe’dsaidanythingbeforehedied.WhenIsaidhehadn’tIsawitintheirfaces—relief.Ithinkmyself,”finishedBunch,“itwasEccleswhoshothim.”
“Murder?”saidMissMarple.
“Yes,”saidBunch.“Murder.That’swhyIcametoyou,darling.”
Bunch’sremarkmighthaveseemedincongruoustoanignorantlistener,butincertainspheresMissMarplehadareputationfordealingwithmurder.
“Hesaid‘please’tomebeforehedied,”saidBunch.“Hewantedmetodosomethingforhim.TheawfulthingisI’venoideawhat.”
MissMarpleconsideredforamomentortwo,andthenpouncedonthepointthathadalreadyoccurredtoBunch.“Butwhywashethereatall?”sheasked.
“Youmean,”saidBunch,“ifyouwantedsanctuaryyoumightpopintoachurchanywhere.There’snoneedtotakeabusthatonlygoesfourtimesadayandcomeouttoalonelyspotlikeoursforit.”
“Hemusthavecomethereforapurpose,”MissMarplethought.“Hemusthavecometoseesomeone.ChippingCleghorn’snotabigplace,Bunch.Surelyyoumusthavesomeideaofwhoitwashecametosee?”
Bunchreviewedtheinhabitantsofhervillageinhermindbeforeratherdoubtfullyshakingherhead.“Inaway,”shesaid,“itcouldbeanybody.”
“Henevermentionedaname?”
“HesaidJulian,orIthoughthesaidJulian.ItmighthavebeenJulia,Isuppose.AsfarasIknow,thereisn’tanyJulialivinginChippingCleghorn.”
Shescreweduphereyesasshethoughtbacktothescene.Themanlyingthereonthechancelsteps,thelightcomingthroughthewindowwithitsjewelsofredandbluelight.
“Jewels,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.
“I’mcomingnow,”saidBunch,“tothemostimportantthingofall.ThereasonwhyI’vereallycomeheretoday.Yousee,theEcclesesmadeagreatfussabouthavinghiscoat.Wetookitoffwhenthedoctorwasseeinghim.Itwasanold,shabbysortofcoat—therewasnoreasontheyshouldhavewantedit.Theypretendeditwassentimental,butthatwasnonsense.
“Anyway,Iwentuptofindit,andasIwasjustgoingupthestairsIrememberedhowhe’dmadeakindofpickinggesturewithhishand,asthoughhewasfumblingwiththecoat.SowhenIgotholdofthecoatIlookedatitverycarefullyandIsawthatinoneplacethelininghadbeensewnupagainwithadifferentthread.SoIunpickeditandIfoundalittlepieceofpaperinside.ItookitoutandIseweditupagainproperlywiththreadthatmatched.IwascarefulandIdon’treallythinkthattheEccleseswouldknowI’vedoneit.Idon’tthinkso,butIcan’tbesure.AndItookthecoatdowntothemandmadesomeexcuseforthedelay.”
“Thepieceofpaper?”askedMissMarple.
Bunchopenedherhandbag.“Ididn’tshowittoJulian,”shesaid,“becausehewouldhavesaidthatIoughttohavegivenittotheEccleses.ButIthoughtI’dratherbringittoyouinstead.”
“Acloakroomticket,”saidMissMarple,lookingatit.“PaddingtonStation.”
“HehadareturntickettoPaddingtoninhispocket,”saidBunch.
Theeyesofthetwowomenmet.
“Thiscallsforaction,”saidMissMarplebriskly.“Butitwouldbeadvisable,Ithink,tobecareful.Wouldyouhavenoticedatall,Bunchdear,whetheryouwerefollowedwhenyoucametoLondontoday?”
“Followed!”exclaimedBunch.“Youdon’tthink—”
“Well,Ithinkit’spossible,”saidMissMarple.“Whenanythingispossible,Ithinkweoughttotakeprecautions.”Sherosewithabriskmovement.“Youcameuphereostensibly,mydear,togotothesales.Ithinktherightthingtodo,therefore,wouldbeforustogotothesales.Butbeforewesetout,wemightputoneortwolittlearrangementsinhand.Idon’tsuppose,”MissMarpleaddedobscurely,“thatIshallneedtheoldspeckledtweedwiththebeavercollarjustatpresent.”
Itwasaboutanhourandahalflaterthatthetwoladies,rathertheworseforwearandbatteredinappearance,andbothclaspingparcelsofhardly-wonhouseholdlinen,satdownatasmallandsequesteredhostelrycalledtheAppleBoughtorestoretheirforceswithsteakandkidneypuddingfollowedbyappletartandcustard.
“Reallyaprewarqualityfacetowel,”gaspedMissMarple,slightlyoutofbreath.“WithaJonit,too.SofortunatethatRaymond’swife’snameisJoan.IshallputthemasideuntilIreallyneedthemandthentheywilldoforherifIpassonsoonerthanIexpect.”
“Ireallydidneedtheglass-cloths,”saidBunch.“Andtheywereverycheap,thoughnotascheapastheonesthatwomanwiththegingerhairmanagedtosnatchfromme.”
AsmartyoungwomanwithalavishapplicationofrougeandlipstickenteredtheAppleBoughatthatmoment.Afterlookingaroundvaguelyforamomentortwo,shehurriedtotheirtable.ShelaiddownanenvelopebyMissMarple’selbow.
“Thereyouare,miss,”shesaidbriskly.
“Oh,thankyou,Gladys,”saidMissMarple.“Thankyouverymuch.Sokindofyou.”
“Alwayspleasedtooblige,I’msure,”saidGladys.“Erniealwayssaystome,‘Everythingwhat’sgoodyoulearnedfromthatMissMarpleofyoursthatyouwereinservicewith,’andI’msureI’malwaysgladtoobligeyou,miss.”
“Suchadeargirl,”saidMissMarpleasGladysdepartedagain.“Alwayssowillingandsokind.”
ShelookedinsidetheenvelopeandthenpasseditontoBunch.“Nowbeverycareful,dear,”shesaid.“Bytheway,istherestillthatniceyounginspectoratMelchesterthatIremember?”
“Idon’tknow,”saidBunch.“Iexpectso.”
“Well,ifnot,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.“IcanalwaysringuptheChiefConstable.Ithinkhewouldrememberme.”
“Ofcoursehe’drememberyou,”saidBunch.“Everybodywouldrememberyou.You’requiteunique.”Sherose.
ArrivedatPaddington,Bunchwenttotheluggageofficeandproducedthecloakroomticket.Amomentortwolaterarathershabbyoldsuitcasewaspassedacrosstoher,andcarryingthisshemadeherwaytotheplatform.
Thejourneyhomewasuneventful.BunchroseasthetrainapproachedChippingCleghornandpickeduptheoldsuitcase.Shehadjustlefthercarriagewhenaman,sprintingalongtheplatform,suddenlyseizedthesuitcasefromherhandandrushedoffwithit.
“Stop!”Bunchyelled.“Stophim,stophim.He’stakenmysuitcase.”
Theticketcollectorwho,atthisruralstation,wasamanofsomewhatslowprocesses,hadjustbeguntosay,“Now,lookhere,youcan’tdothat—”whenasmartblowonthechestpushedhimaside,andthemanwiththesuitcaserushedoutfromthestation.Hemadehiswaytowardsawaitingcar.Tossingthesuitcasein,hewasabouttoclimbafterit,butbeforehecouldmoveahandfellonhisshoulder,andthevoiceofPoliceConstableAbelsaid,“Nowthen,what’sallthis?”
Buncharrived,panting,fromthestation.“Hesnatchedmysuitcase.Ijustgotoutofthetrainwithit.”
“Nonsense,”saidtheman.“Idon’tknowwhatthisladymeans.It’smysuitcase.Ijustgotoutofthetrainwithit.”
HelookedatBunchwithabovineandimpartialstare.NobodywouldhaveguessedthatPoliceConstableAbelandMrs.HarmonspentlonghalfhoursinPoliceConstableAbel’soff-timediscussingtherespectivemeritsofmanureandbonemealforrosebushes.
“Yousay,madam,thatthisisyoursuitcase?”saidPoliceConstableAbel.
“Yes,”saidBunch.“Definitely.”
“Andyou,sir?”
“Isaythissuitcaseismine.”
Themanwastall,darkandwell-dressed,withadrawlingvoiceandasuperiormanner.Afemininevoicefrominsidethecarsaid,“Ofcourseit’syoursuitcase,Edwin.Idon’tknowwhatthiswomanmeans.”
“We’llhavetogetthisclear,”saidPoliceConstableAbel.“Ifit’syoursuitcase,madam,whatdoyousayisinsideit?”
“Clothes,”saidBunch.“Alongspeckledcoatwithabeavercollar,twowooljumpersandapairofshoes.”
“Well,that’sclearenough,”saidPoliceConstableAbel.Heturnedtotheother.
“Iamatheatricalcostumer,”saidthedarkmanimportantly.“ThissuitcasecontainstheatricalpropertieswhichIbroughtdownhereforanamateurperformance.”
“Right,sir,”saidPoliceConstableAbel.“Well,we’lljustlookinside,shallwe,andsee?Wecangoalongtothepolicestation,orifyou’reinahurrywe’lltakethesuitcasebacktothestationandopenitthere.”
“It’llsuitme,”saidthedarkman.“MynameisMoss,bytheway,EdwinMoss.”
Thepoliceconstable,holdingthesuitcase,wentbackintothestation.“Justtakingthisintotheparcelsoffice,George,”hesaidtotheticketcollector.
PoliceConstableAbellaidthesuitcaseonthecounteroftheparcelsofficeandpushedbacktheclasp.Thecasewasnotlocked.BunchandMr.EdwinMossstoodoneithersideofhim,theireyesregardingeachothervengefully.
“Ah!”saidPoliceConstableAbel,ashepushedupthelid.
Inside,neatlyfolded,wasalongrathershabbytweedcoatwithabeaverfurcollar.Therewerealsotwowooljumpersandapairofcountryshoes.
“Exactlyasyousay,madam,”saidPoliceConstableAbel,turningtoBunch.
NobodycouldhavesaidthatMr.EdwinMossunderdidthings.Hisdismayandcompunctionweremagnificent.
“Idoapologize,”hesaid.“Ireallydoapologize.Pleasebelieveme,dearlady,whenItellyouhowvery,verysorryIam.Unpardonable—quiteunpardonable—mybehaviourhasbeen.”Helookedathiswatch.“Imustrushnow.Probablymysuitcasehasgoneonthetrain.”Raisinghishatoncemore,hesaidmeltinglytoBunch,“Do,doforgiveme,”andrushedhurriedlyoutoftheparcelsoffice.
“Areyougoingtolethimgetaway?”askedBunchinaconspiratorialwhispertoPoliceConstableAbel.
Thelatterslowlyclosedabovineeyeinawink.
“Hewon’tgettoofar,ma’am,”hesaid.“That’stosayhewon’tgetfarunobserved,ifyoutakemymeaning.”
“Oh,”saidBunch,relieved.
“Thatoldlady’sbeenonthephone,”saidPoliceConstableAbel,“theoneaswasdownhereafewyearsago.Brightsheis,isn’tshe?Butthere’sbeenalotcookingupalltoday.Shouldn’twonderiftheinspectororsergeantwasouttoseeyouaboutittomorrowmorning.”
Itwastheinspectorwhocame,theInspectorCraddockwhomMissMarpleremembered.HegreetedBunchwithasmileasanoldfriend.
“CrimeinChippingCleghornagain,”hesaidcheerfully.“Youdon’tlackforsensationhere,doyou,Mrs.Harmon?”
“Icoulddowithratherless,”saidBunch.“Haveyoucometoaskmequestionsorareyougoingtotellmethingsforachange?”
“I’lltellyousomethingsfirst,”saidtheinspector.“Tobeginwith,Mr.andMrs.Eccleshavebeenhavinganeyekeptonthemforsometime.There’sreasontobelievethey’vebeenconnectedwithseveralrobberiesinthispartoftheworld.Foranotherthing,althoughMrs.EccleshasabrothercalledSandbournewhohasrecentlycomebackfromabroad,themanyoufounddyinginthechurchyesterdaywasdefinitelynotSandbourne.”
“Iknewthathewasn’t,”saidBunch.“HisnamewasWalter,tobeginwith,notWilliam.”
Theinspectornodded.“HisnamewasWalterSt.John,andheescapedforty-eighthoursagofromCharringtonPrison.”
“Ofcourse,”saidBunchsoftlytoherself,“hewasbeinghunteddownbythelaw,andhetooksanctuary.”Thensheasked,“Whathadhedone?”
“I’llhavetogobackratheralongway.It’sacomplicatedstory.Severalyearsagotherewasacertaindancerdoingturnsatthemusichalls.Idon’texpectyou’llhaveeverheardofher,butshespecializedinanArabianNightturn,‘AladdinintheCaveofJewels’itwascalled.Sheworebitsofrhinestoneandnotmuchelse.
“Shewasn’tmuchofadancer,Ibelieve,butshewas—well—attractive.Anyway,acertainAsiaticroyaltyfellforherinabigway.Amongstotherthingshegaveheraverymagnificentemeraldnecklace.”
“ThehistoricjewelsofaRajah?”murmuredBunchecstatically.
InspectorCraddockcoughed.“Well,arathermoremodernversion,Mrs.Harmon.Theaffairdidn’tlastverylong,brokeupwhenourpotentate’sattentionwascapturedbyacertainfilmstarwhosedemandswerenotquitesomodest.
“Zobeida,togivethedancerherstagename,hungontothenecklace,andinduecourseitwasstolen.Itdisappearedfromherdressingroomatthetheatre,andtherewasalingeringsuspicioninthemindsoftheauthoritiesthatsheherselfmighthaveengineereditsdisappearance.Suchthingshavebeenknownasapublicitystunt,orindeedfrommoredishonestmotives.
“Thenecklacewasneverrecovered,butduringthecourseoftheinvestigationtheattentionofthepolicewasdrawntothisman,WalterSt.John.Hewasamanofeducationandbreedingwhohadcomedownintheworld,andwhowasemployedasaworkingjewellerwitharatherobscurefirmwhichwassuspectedofactingasafenceforjewelrobberies.
“Therewasevidencethatthisnecklacehadpassedthroughhishands.Itwas,however,inconnectionwiththetheftofsomeotherjewellerythathewasfinallybroughttotrialandconvictedandsenttoprison.Hehadnotverymuchlongertoserve,sohisescapewasratherasurprise.”
“Butwhydidhecomehere?”askedBunch.
“We’dliketoknowthatverymuch,Mrs.Harmon.Followinguphistrial,itseemsthathewentfirsttoLondon.Hedidn’tvisitanyofhisoldassociatesbuthevisitedanelderlywoman,aMrs.Jacobswhohadformerlybeenatheatricaldresser.Shewon’tsayawordofwhathecamefor,butaccordingtootherlodgersinthehouseheleftcarryingasuitcase.”
“Isee,”saidBunch.“HeleftitinthecloakroomatPaddingtonandthenhecamedownhere.”
“Bythattime,”saidInspectorCraddock,“EcclesandthemanwhocallshimselfEdwinMosswereonhistrail.Theywantedthatsuitcase.Theysawhimgetonthebus.Theymusthavedrivenoutinacaraheadofhimandbeenwaitingforhimwhenheleftthebus.”
“Andhewasmurdered?”saidBunch.
“Yes,”saidCraddock.“Hewasshot.ItwasEccles’srevolver,butIratherfancyitwasMosswhodidtheshooting.Now,Mrs.Harmon,whatwewanttoknowis,whereisthesuitcasethatWalterSt.JohnactuallydepositedatPaddingtonStation?”
Bunchgrinned.“IexpectAuntJane’sgotitbynow,”shesaid.“MissMarple,Imean.Thatwasherplan.ShesentaformermaidofherswithasuitcasepackedwithherthingstothecloakroomatPaddingtonandweexchangedtickets.Icollectedhersuitcaseandbroughtitdownbytrain.Sheseemedtoexpectthatanattemptwouldbemadetogetitfromme.”
ItwasInspectorCraddock’sturntogrin.“Soshesaidwhensherangup.I’mdrivinguptoLondontoseeher.Doyouwanttocome,too,Mrs.Harmon?”
“Wel-l,”saidBunch,considering.“Wel-l,asamatteroffact,it’sveryfortunate.IhadatoothachelastnightsoIreallyoughttogotoLondontoseethedentist,oughtn’tI?”
“Definitely,”saidInspectorCraddock
MissMarplelookedfromInspectorCraddock’sfacetotheeagerfaceofBunchHarmon.Thesuitcaselayonthetable.“Ofcourse,Ihaven’topenedit,”theoldladysaid.“Iwouldn’tdreamofdoingsuchathingtillsomebodyofficialarrived.Besides,”sheadded,withademurelymischievousVictoriansmile,“it’slocked.”
“Liketomakeaguessatwhat’sinside,MissMarple?”askedtheinspector.
“Ishouldimagine,youknow,”saidMissMarple,“thatitwouldbeZobeida’stheatricalcostumes.Wouldyoulikeachisel,Inspector?”
Thechiselsoondiditswork.Bothwomengaveaslightgaspasthelidflewup.Thesunlightcomingthroughthewindowlitupwhatseemedlikeaninexhaustibletreasureofsparklingjewels,red,blue,green,orange.
“Aladdin’sCave,”saidMissMarple.“Theflashingjewelsthegirlworetodance.”
“Ah,”saidInspectorCraddock.“Now,what’ssopreciousaboutit,doyouthink,thatamanwasmurderedtogetholdofit?”
“Shewasashrewdgirl,Iexpect,”saidMissMarplethoughtfully.“She’sdead,isn’tshe,Inspector?”
“Yes,diedthreeyearsago.”
“Shehadthisvaluableemeraldnecklace,”saidMissMarple,musingly.“Hadthestonestakenoutoftheirsettingandfastenedhereandthereonhertheatricalcostume,whereeveryonewouldtakethemformerelycolouredrhinestones.Thenshehadareplicamadeoftherealnecklace,andthat,ofcourse,waswhatwasstolen.Nowonderitnevercameonthemarket.Thethiefsoondiscoveredthestoneswerefalse.”
“Hereisanenvelope,”saidBunch,pullingasidesomeoftheglitteringstones.
InspectorCraddocktookitfromherandextractedtwoofficial-lookingpapersfromit.Hereadaloud,“‘MarriageCertificatebetweenWalterEdmundSt.JohnandMaryMoss.’ThatwasZobeida’srealname.”
“Sotheyweremarried,”saidMissMarple.“Isee.”
“What’stheother?”askedBunch.
“Abirthcertificateofadaughter,Jewel.”
“Jewel?”criedBunch.“Why,ofcourse.Jewel!Jill!That’sit.IseenowwhyhecametoChippingCleghorn.That’swhathewastryingtosaytome.Jewel.TheMundys,youknow.LaburnumCottage.Theylookafteralittlegirlforsomeone.They’redevotedtoher.She’sbeenliketheirowngranddaughter.Yes,Iremembernow,hernamewasJewel,only,ofcourse,theycallherJill.
“Mrs.Mundyhadastrokeaboutaweekago,andtheoldman’sbeenveryillwithpneumonia.Theywerebothgoingtogototheinfirmary.I’vebeentryinghardtofindagoodhomeforJillsomewhere.Ididn’twanthertakenawaytoaninstitution.
“Isupposeherfatherheardaboutitinprisonandhemanagedtobreakawayandgetholdofthissuitcasefromtheolddresserheorhiswifeleftitwith.Isupposeifthejewelsreallybelongedtohermother,theycanbeusedforthechildnow.”
“Ishouldimagineso,Mrs.Harmon.Ifthey’rehere.”
“Oh,they’llbehereallright,”saidMissMarplecheerfully….
“Thankgoodnessyou’reback,dear,”saidtheReverendJulianHarmon,greetinghiswifewithaffectionandasighofcontent.“Mrs.Burtalwaystriestodoherbestwhenyou’reaway,butshereallygavemesomeverypeculiarfish-cakesforlunch.Ididn’twanttohurtherfeelingssoIgavethemtoTiglathPileser,butevenhewouldn’teatthemsoIhadtothrowthemoutofthewindow.”
“TiglathPileser,”saidBunch,strokingthevicaragecat,whowaspurringagainstherknee,“isveryparticularaboutwhatfishheeats.Ioftentellhimhe’sgotaproudstomach!”
“Andyourtooth,dear?Didyouhaveitseento?”
“Yes,”saidBunch.“Itdidn’thurtmuch,andIwenttoseeAuntJaneagain,too….”
“Dearoldthing,”saidJulian.“Ihopeshe’snotfailingatall.”
“Notintheleast,”saidBunch,withagrin.
ThefollowingmorningBunchtookafreshsupplyofchrysanthemumstothechurch.Thesunwasoncemorepouringthroughtheeastwindow,andBunchstoodinthejewelledlightonthechancelsteps.Shesaidverysoftlyunderherbreath,“Yourlittlegirlwillbeallright.I’llseethatsheis.Ipromise.”
Thenshetidiedupthechurch,slippedintoapewandkneltforafewmomentstosayherprayersbeforereturningtothevicaragetoattackthepiled-upchoresoftwoneglecteddays.
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?
BythePrickingofMyThumbs
PosternofFate
AbouttheAuthor
Authorphotograph?ChristieArchivesTrust
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.
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Authorphotograph?ChristieArchivesTrust
CoverillustrationanddesignbySaraWood
Copyright
Thisbookisaworkoffiction.Thecharacters,incidents,anddialoguearedrawnfromtheauthor’simaginationandarenottobeconstruedasreal.Anyresemblancetoactualeventsorpersons,livingordead,isentirelycoincidental.
ThestoriesappearinginthisvolumehaveallbeenpreviouslypublishedinthefollowingbooksbyAgathaChristie:TheThirteenProblems(previouslypublishedasTheTuesdayClubMurders),TheRegattaMysteryandOtherStories,ThreeBlindMiceandOtherStories,andDoubleSinandOtherStories.
Aneditionofthisbookwaspreviouslypublishedin1985BerkleyBooks,animprintofPenguinPutnam.
AGATHACHRISTIE?MARPLE?MISSMARPLE?MISSMARPLE:THECOMPLETESHORTSTORIES?.Copyright?2011AgathaChristieLimited(aChorioncompany).Allrightsreserved.
MISSMARPLE:THECOMPLETESHORTSTORIES?2011.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.
LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationDataisavailableuponrequest.
ISBN9780062073716
EPubEditionSeptember2013ISBN9780062330550
1112131415DIX/RRD10987654321
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TableofContents
Contents
Author’sForeword
1.TheTuesdayNightClub
2.TheIdolHouseofAstarte
3.IngotsofGold
4.TheBloodstainedPavement
5.Motivev.Opportunity
6.TheThumbmarkofSt.Peter
7.TheBlueGeranium
8.TheCompanion
9.TheFourSuspects
10.AChristmasTragedy
11.TheHerbofDeath
12.TheAffairattheBungalow
13.DeathbyDrowning
14.MissMarpleTellsaStory
15.StrangeJest
16.TheCaseofthePerfectMaid
17.TheCaseoftheCaretaker
18.Tape-MeasureMurder
19.Greenshaw’sFolly
20.Sanctuary
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TheAgathaChristieCollection
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AboutthePublisher