TheThirteenProblems
ToLeonardandKatherineWoolleyContents
AboutAgathaChristie
TheAgathaChristieCollection
E-BookExtras
1TheTuesdayNightClub
2TheIdolHouseofAstarte
3IngotsofGold
4TheBloodstainedPavement
5MotivevOpportunity
6TheThumbMarkofStPeter
7TheBlueGeranium
8TheCompanion
9TheFourSuspects
10AChristmasTragedy
11TheHerbofDeath
12TheAffairattheBungalow
13DeathbyDrowning
Copyright
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Chapter1TheTuesdayNightClub
‘Unsolvedmysteries.’
RaymondWestblewoutacloudofsmokeandrepeatedthewordswithakindofdeliberateself-consciouspleasure.
‘Unsolvedmysteries.’
Helookedroundhimwithsatisfaction.Theroomwasanoldonewithbroadblackbeamsacrosstheceilinganditwasfurnishedwithgoodoldfurniturethatbelongedtoit.HenceRaymondWest’sapprovingglance.Byprofessionhewasawriterandhelikedtheatmospheretobeflawless.HisAuntJane’shousealwayspleasedhimastherightsettingforblacklacecapsurmountedthepiled-upmassesofhersnowyhair.Shewasknitting—somethingwhiteandsoftandfleecy.Herfadedblueeyes,benignantandkindly,surveyedhernephewandhernephew’sguestswithgentlepleasure.TheyrestedfirstonRaymondhimself,self-consciouslydebonair,thenonJoyceLemprière,theartist,withherclose-croppedblackheadandqueerhazel-greeneyes,thenonthatwell-groomedmanoftheworld,SirHenryClithering.Thereweretwootherpeopleintheroom,DrPender,theelderlyclergymanoftheparish,andMrPetherick,thesolicitor,adried-uplittlemanwitheyeglasseswhichhelookedoverandnotthrough.MissMarplegaveabriefmomentofattentiontoallthesepeopleandreturnedtoherknittingwithagentlesmileuponherlips.
MrPetherickgavethedrylittlecoughwithwhichheusuallyprefacedhisremarks.
‘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.‘ForinstanceMrsCarruthershadaverystrangeexperienceyesterdaymorning.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,’saidMrPetherick.
‘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.’
MrPetherickgavehisdrylittlecoughagain.
‘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?’saidDrPendersmiling.‘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.’
‘Ithinkitwouldbeveryintersting,’saidMissMarple,‘especiallywithsomanyclevergentlemenpresent.IamafraidIamnotclevermyself,butlivingalltheseyearsinStMaryMeaddoesgiveoneaninsightintohumannature.’
‘Iamsureyourco-operationwillbeveryvaluable,’saidSirHenry,courteously.
‘Whoisgoingtostart?’saidJoyce.
‘Ithinkthereisnodoubtastothat,’saidDrPender,‘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.IwillcallthehusbandandwifeMrandMrsJones,andthewife’scompanionMissClark.MrJoneswasatravellerforafirmofmanufacturingchemists.Hewasagood-lookingmaninakindofcoarse,floridway,agedaboutfifty.Hiswifewasarathercommonplacewoman,ofaboutforty-five.Thecompanion,MissClark,wasawomanofsixty,astoutcheerywomanwithabeamingrubicundface.Noneofthem,youmightsay,veryinteresting.
‘Nowthebeginningofthetroublesaroseinaverycuriousway.MrJoneshadbeenstayingthepreviousnightatasmallcommercialhotelinBirmingham.Ithappenedthattheblottingpaperintheblottingbookhadbeenputinfreshthatday,andthechambermaid,havingapparentlynothingbettertodo,amusedherselfbystudyingtheblotterinthemirrorjustafterMrJoneshadbeenwritingaletterthere.AfewdayslatertherewasareportinthepapersofthedeathofMrsJonesastheresultofeatingtinnedlobster,andthechambermaidthenimpartedtoherfellowservantsthewordsthatshehaddecipheredontheblottingpad.Theywereasfollows:Entirelydependentonmywife…whensheisdeadIwill…hundredsandthousands…
‘Youmayrememberthattherehadrecentlybeenacaseofawifebeingpoisonedbyherhusband.Itneededverylittletofiretheimaginationofthesemaids.MrJoneshadplannedtodoawaywithhiswifeandinherithundredsofthousandsofpounds!AsithappenedoneofthemaidshadrelationslivinginthesmallmarkettownwheretheJonesesresided.Shewrotetothem,andtheyinreturnwrotetoher.MrJones,itseemed,hadbeenveryattentivetothelocaldoctor’sdaughter,agood-lookingyoungwomanofthirty-three.Scandalbegantohum.TheHomeSecretarywaspetitioned.NumerousanonymousletterspouredintoScotlandYardallaccusingMrJonesofhavingmurderedhiswife.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.HehadrealizedimmediatelytheseriousconditionofMrsJones,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.MrsJoneslefthernolegacyofanykindandthenetresultofheremployer’sdeathwasthatshehadtoseekforanothersituation.’
‘Thatseemstoleaveheroutofit,’saidJoycethoughtfully.
‘Nowoneofmyinspectorssoondiscoveredasignificantfact,’wentonSirHenry.‘AftersupperonthateveningMrJoneshadgonedowntothekitchenandhaddemandedabowlofcornflourforhiswifewhohadcomplainedofnotfeelingwell.HehadwaitedinthekitchenuntilGladysLinchpreparedit,andthencarriedituptohiswife’sroomhimself.That,Iadmit,seemedtoclinchthecase.’
Thelawyernodded.
‘Motive,’hesaid,tickingthepointsoffonhisfingers.‘Opportunity.Asatravellerforafirmofdruggists,easyaccesstothepoison.’
‘Andamanofweakmoralfibre,’saidtheclergyman.
RaymondWestwasstaringatSirHenry.
‘Thereisacatchinthissomewhere,’hesaid.‘Whydidyounotarresthim?’
SirHenrysmiledratherwryly.
‘Thatistheunfortunatepartofthecase.Sofarallhadgoneswimmingly,butnowwecometothesnags.JoneswasnotarrestedbecauseoninterrogatingMissClarkshetoldusthatthewholeofthebowlofcornflourwasdrunknotbyMrsJonesbutbyher.
‘Yes,itseemsthatshewenttoMrsJones’sroomaswashercustom.MrsJoneswassittingupinbedandthebowlofcornflourwasbesideher.
‘“Iamnotfeelingabitwell,Milly,”shesaid.“Servesmeright,Isuppose,fortouchinglobsteratnight.IaskedAlberttogetmeabowlofcornflour,butnowthatIhavegotitIdon’tseemtofancyit.”
‘“Apity,”commentedMissClark—“itisnicelymadetoo,nolumps.Gladysisreallyquiteanicecook.Veryfewgirlsnowadaysseemtobeabletomakeabowlofcornflournicely.IdeclareIquitefancyitmyself,Iamthathungry.”
‘“Ishouldthinkyouwerewithyourfoolishways,”saidMrsJones.
‘Imustexplain,’brokeoffSirHenry,‘thatMissClark,alarmedatherincreasingstoutness,wasdoingacourseofwhatispopularlyknownas“banting”.
‘“Itisnotgoodforyou,Milly,itreallyisn’t,”urgedMrsJones.“IftheLordmadeyoustouthemeantyoutobestout.Youdrinkupthatbowlofcornflour.Itwilldoyouallthegoodintheworld.”
‘AndstraightawayMissClarksettoanddidinactualfactfinishthebowl.So,yousee,thatknockedourcaseagainstthehusbandtopieces.AskedforanexplanationofthewordsontheblottingbookJonesgaveonereadilyenough.Theletter,heexplained,wasinanswertoonewrittenfromhisbrotherinAustraliawhohadappliedtohimformoney.Hehadwritten,pointingoutthathewasentirelydependentonhiswife.Whenhiswifewasdeadhewouldhavecontrolofmoneyandwouldassisthisbrotherifpossible.Heregrettedhisinabilitytohelpbutpointedoutthattherewerehundredsandthousandsofpeopleintheworldinthesameunfortunateplight.’
‘Andsothecasefelltopieces?’saidDrPender.
‘Andsothecasefelltopieces,’saidSirHenrygravely.‘WecouldnottaketheriskofarrestingJoneswithnothingtogoupon.’
TherewasasilenceandthenJoycesaid,‘Andthatisall,isit?’
‘Thatisthecaseasithasstoodforthelastyear.ThetruesolutionisnowinthehandsofScotlandYard,andintwoorthreedays’timeyouwillprobablyreadofitinthenewspapers.’
‘Thetruesolution,’saidJoycethoughtfully.‘Iwonder.Let’sallthinkforfiveminutesandthenspeak.’
RaymondWestnoddedandnotedthetimeonhiswatch.WhenthefiveminuteswereuphelookedoveratDrPender.
‘Willyouspeakfirst?’hesaid.
Theoldmanshookhishead.‘Iconfess,’hesaid,‘thatIamutterlybaffled.Icanbutthinkthatthehusbandinsomewaymustbetheguiltyparty,buthowhediditIcannotimagine.Icanonlysuggestthathemusthavegivenherthepoisoninsomewaythathasnotyetbeendiscovered,althoughhowinthatcaseitshouldhavecometolightafterallthistimeIcannotimagine.’
‘Joyce?’
‘Thecompanion!’saidJoycedecidedly.‘Thecompanioneverytime!Howdoweknowwhatmotiveshemayhavehad?Justbecauseshewasoldandstoutanduglyitdoesn’tfollowthatshewasn’tinlovewithJonesherself.Shemayhavehatedthewifeforsomeotherreason.Thinkofbeingacompanion—alwayshavingtobepleasantandagreeandstifleyourselfandbottleyourselfup.Onedayshecouldn’tbearitanylongerandthenshekilledher.Sheprobablyputthearsenicinthebowlofcornflourandallthatstoryabouteatingitherselfisalie.’
‘MrPetherick?’
Thelawyerjoinedthetipsofhisfingerstogetherprofessionally.‘Ishouldhardlyliketosay.OnthefactsIshouldhardlyliketosay.’
‘Butyouhavegotto,MrPetherick,’saidJoyce.‘Youcan’treservejudgementandsay“withoutprejudice”,andbelegal.Youhavegottoplaythegame.’
‘Onthefacts,’saidMrPetherick,‘thereseemsnothingtobesaid.Itismyprivateopinion,havingseen,alas,toomanycasesofthiskind,thatthehusbandwasguilty.TheonlyexplanationthatwillcoverthefactsseemstobethatMissClarkforsomereasonorotherdeliberatelyshelteredhim.Theremayhavebeensomefinancialarrangementmadebetweenthem.Hemightrealizethathewouldbesuspected,andshe,seeingonlyafutureofpovertybeforeher,mayhaveagreedtotellthestoryofdrinkingthecornflourinreturnforasubstantialsumtobepaidtoherprivately.Ifthatwasthecaseitwasofcoursemostirregular.Mostirregularindeed.’
‘Idisagreewithyouall,’saidRaymond.‘Youhaveforgottentheoneimportantfactorinthecase.Thedoctor’sdaughter.Iwillgiveyoumyreadingofthecase.Thetinnedlobsterwasbad.Itaccountedforthepoisoningsymptoms.Thedoctorwassentfor.HefindsMrsJones,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.ItremindsmeofoldMrHargraveswholivedupattheMount.Hiswifeneverhadtheleastsuspicion—untilhedied,leavingallhismoneytoawomanhehadbeenlivingwithandbywhomhehadfivechildren.Shehadatonetimebeentheirhousemaid.Suchanicegirl,MrsHargravesalwayssaid—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,’beganMrPetherick.
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’ttellyoutheshockitwastoMrsHargraves,andaninedays’wonderinthevillage.’
Chapter2TheIdolHouseofAstarte
‘Andnow,DrPender,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.‘OldMrSmitherslostallhismoneyandhadtoleaveit,thentheCarslakestookitandJohnnyCarslakefelldownstairsandbrokehislegandMrsCarslakehadtogoawaytothesouthofFranceforherhealth,andnowtheBurdenshavegotitandIhearthatpoorMrBurdenhasgottohaveanoperationalmostimmediately.’
‘Thereis,Ithink,rathertoomuchsuperstitionaboutsuchmatters,’saidMrPetherick.‘Alotofdamageisdonetopropertybyfoolishreportsheedlesslycirculated.’
‘Ihaveknownoneortwo“ghosts”thathavehadaveryrobustpersonality,’remarkedSirHenrywithachuckle.
‘Ithink,’saidRaymond,‘weshouldallowDrPendertogoonwithhisstory.’
Joycegotupandswitchedoffthetwolamps,leavingtheroomlitonlybytheflickeringfirelight.
‘Atmosphere,’shesaid.‘Nowwecangetalong.’
DrPendersmiledather,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.TherewasalsoayoungDrSymondsandtherewasMissDianaAshley.Iknewsomethingaboutthelastnamed.HerpicturewasveryoftenintheSocietypapersandshewasoneofthenotoriousbeautiesoftheSeason.Herappearancewasindeedverystriking.Shewasdarkandtall,withabeautifulskinofaneventintofpalecream,andherhalfcloseddarkeyessetslantwaysinherheadgaveheracuriouslypiquantorientalappearance.Shehad,too,awonderfulspeakingvoice,deep-tonedandbell-like.
‘IsawatoncethatmyfriendRichardHaydonwasverymuchattractedbyher,andIguessedthatthewholepartywasmerelyarrangedasasettingforher.OfherownfeelingsIwasnotsosure.Shewascapriciousinherfavours.OnedaytalkingtoRichardandexcludingeveryoneelsefromhernotice,andanotherdayshewouldfavourhiscousin,Elliot,andappearhardlytonoticethatsuchapersonasRichardexisted,andthenagainshewouldbestowthemostbewitchingsmilesuponthequietandretiringDrSymonds.
‘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.”
‘“TheGoddessoftheMooon,”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.RogersandhiswifewereNeolithichutHaydoncalledhimselfaPhoeniciansailor,andhiscousinwasaBrigandChief,DrSymondswasachef,LadyManneringwasahospitalnurse,andherdaughterwasaCircassianslave.Imyselfwasarrayedsomewhattoowarmlyasamonk.DianaAshleycamedownlastandwassomewhatofadisappointmenttoallofus,beingwrappedinashapelessblackdomino.
‘“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.
‘TherewasacryfromMrsRogers.
‘“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.”
‘DrSymondscameovertothegirl.
‘“Wemustgethertothehouse,”hesaid.“Rogers,willyouhelp?”
‘Betweenuswecarriedtheunconsciousgirlbacktothehouse.ThenwereturnedandfetchedthebodyofSirRichard.’
DrPenderbrokeoffapologeticallyandlookedround.
‘Onewouldknowbetternowadays,’hesaid,‘owingtotheprevalenceofdetectivefiction.Everystreetboyknowsthatabodymustbeleftwhereitisfound.Butinthesedayswehadnotthesameknowledge,andaccordinglywecarriedthebodyofRichardHaydonbacktohisbedroominthesquaregranitehouseandthebutlerwasdespatchedonabicycleinsearchofthepolice—arideofsometwelvemiles.
‘ItwasthenthatElliotHaydondrewmeaside.
‘“Lookhere,”hesaid.“Iamgoingbacktothegrove.Thatweaponhasgottobefound.”
‘“Iftherewasaweapon,”Isaiddoubtfully.
‘Heseizedmyarmandshookitfiercely.“Youhavegotthatsuperstitiousstuffintoyourhead.Youthinkhisdeathwassupernatural;well,Iamgoingbacktothegrovetofindout.”
‘Iwascuriouslyaversetohisdoingso.Ididmyutmosttodissuadehim,butwithoutresult.ThemereideaofthatthickcircleoftreeswasabhorrenttomeandIfeltastrongpremonitionoffurtherdisaster.ButElliotwasentirelypig-headed.Hewas,Ithink,scaredhimself,butwouldnotadmitit.Hewentofffullyarmedwithdeterminationtogettothebottomofthemystery.
‘Itwasaverydreadfulnight,noneofuscouldsleep,orattempttodoso.Thepolice,whentheyarrived,werefranklyincredulousofthewholething.Theyevincedastrongdesiretocross-examineMissAshley,buttheretheyhadtoreckonwithDrSymonds,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,DrPender?’
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.’
MrPetherickcoughed.
‘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,asMrPethericksowiselysays,onelooksatthefactsanddisregardsallthatatmosphereofheathengoddesseswhichIdon’tthinkisverynice.Hewentuptohimfirstandturnedhimover,andofcoursetodothathewouldhavetohavehadhisbacktothemall,andbeingdressedasabrigandchiefhewouldbesuretohaveaweaponofsomekindinhisbelt.IrememberdancingwithamandressedasabrigandchiefwhenIwasayounggirl.Hehadfivekindsofknivesanddaggers,andIcan’ttellyouhowawkwardanduncomfortableitwasforhispartner.’
AlleyeswereturnedtowardsDrPender.
‘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,DrPender,butIthinkIrecognizethemanyoumean.’
‘AsIsaid,’wentontheoldclergyman,‘Idonotthinkthatexplanationquitecoversthefacts.Istillthinktherewasanevilinfluenceinthatgrove,aninfluencethatdirectedElliotHaydon’saction.EventothisdayIcanneverthinkwithoutashudderofTheIdolHouseofAstarte.’
Chapter3IngotsofGold
‘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,MrWest.”
‘“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.Atankardofbeersomewhatloosenedtheworthyfellow’stongue.
‘“DetectivegentlemanfromLondonhascomedown,”hegrunted.“TheydosaythatthatshipthatwentdowntherelastNovemberwascarryingamortallotofgold.Well,shewasn’tthefirsttogodown,andshewon’tbethelast.”
‘“Hear,hear,”chimedinthelandlordoftheThreeAnchors.“Thatisatruewordyousaythere,BillHiggins.”
‘“Ireckonitis,MrKelvin,”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’twonderifitwasaperfectlyfinenightinanotherhalf-hour.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;thenIrealizedthatthegrave-diggerwasNewman’sgardener,andthe“grave”wasdestinedtoaccommodatethreenewrosetreeswhichwerelyingontheturfwaitingforthemomenttheyshouldbesecurelyplantedintheearth.
‘Thegardenerlookedupandsawmeandtouchedhishat.
‘“Goodmorning,sir.Nicemorning,sir.”
‘“Isupposeitis,”Isaiddoubtfully,stillunabletoshakeoffcompletelythedepressionofmyspirits.
‘However,asthegardenerhadsaid,itwascertainlyanicemorning.Thesunwasshiningandtheskyaclearpalebluethatpromisedfineweatherfortheday.Iwentdowntobreakfastwhistlingatune.Newmanhadnomaidslivinginthehouse.Twomiddle-agedsisters,wholivedinafarm-housenearby,camedailytoattendtohissimplewants.Oneofthemwasplacingthecoffee-potonthetableasIenteredtheroom.
‘“Goodmorning,Elizabeth,”Isaid.“MrNewmannotdownyet?”
‘“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.IftheygotMrNewmanlastnightIdoubtifwewillfindanyofittherebynow.”
‘TheInspectorhurriedofftomakeasearch.Hefounddefiniteevidencethatthebullionhadbeenstoredassupposed,butthegoldhadbeenoncemoreremoved,andtherewasnoclueastoitsfreshhiding-place.
‘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,MrNewman.InhisyoungdaysKelvinwasaprofessionaldiver.”
‘NewmanandIlookedateachother.Thepuzzleseemedtobefittingitselftogetherpiecebypiece.
‘“Youdidn’trecognizeKelvinasoneofthemenonthebeach?”askedtheInspector.
‘Newmanshookhishead.
‘“IamafraidIcan’tsayanythingastothat,”hesaidregretfully.“Ireallyhadn’ttimetoseeanything.”
‘TheInspectorverykindlyallowedmetoaccompanyhimtotheThreeAnchors.Thegaragewasupasidestreet.Thebigdoorswereclosed,butbygoingupalittlealleyatthesidewefoundasmalldoorthatledintoit,andthedoorwasopen.AverybriefexaminationofthetyressufficedfortheInspector.“Wehavegothim,byJove!”heexclaimed.“Hereisthemarkaslargeaslifeontherearleftwheel.Now,MrKelvin,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,’saidMrPetherick,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.’
RaymondWestlookedinquiringlyatDrPender.
‘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’slorryandtakeitoutthroughthesmalldoorintothealleyandputitontoMrNewman’slorryandtakethelorryoutofonegatedowntothebeach,fillitupwiththegoldandbringitupthroughtheothergate,andthentheymusthavetakenthewheelbackandputitbackonMrKelvin’slorrywhile,Isuppose,someoneelsewastyingupMrNewmaninaditch.Veryuncomfortableforhimandprobablylongerbeforehewasfoundthanheexpected.Isupposethemanwhocalledhimselfthegardenerattendedtothatsideofthebusiness.’
‘Whydoyousay,“calledhimselfthegardener,”AuntJane?’askedRaymondcuriously.
‘Well,hecan’thavebeenarealgardener,canhe?’saidMissMarple.‘Gardenersdon’tworkonWhitMonday.Everybodyknowsthat.’
Shesmiledandfoldedupherknitting.
‘Itwasreallythatlittlefactthatputmeontherightscent,’shesaid.ShelookedacrossatRaymond.
‘Whenyouareahouseholder,dear,andhaveagardenofyourown,youwillknowtheselittlethings.’
Chapter4TheBloodstainedPavement
‘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”.IttoldhowMrsDacre,thewifeofCaptainDenisDacre,wasunfortunatelydrownedatLandeerCove,justalittlefartheralongthecoast.Sheandherhusbandwerestayingatthetimeatthehotelthere,andhaddeclaredtheirintentionofbathing,butacoldwindsprangup.CaptainDacrehaddeclareditwastoocold,soheandsomeotherpeopleinthehotelhadgoneofftothegolflinksnearby.MrsDacre,however,hadsaiditwasnottoocoldforherandshewentoffalonedowntothecove.Asshedidn’treturnherhusbandbecamealarmed,andincompanywithhisfriendswentdowntothebeach.Theyfoundherclotheslyingbesidearock,butnotraceoftheunfortunatelady.Herbodywasnotfounduntilnearlyaweeklaterwhenitwaswashedashoreatapointsomedistancedownthecoast.Therewasabadblowonherheadwhichhadoccurredbeforedeath,andthetheorywasthatshemusthavedivedintotheseaandhitherheadonarock.AsfarasIcouldmakeoutherdeathwouldhaveoccurredjusttwenty-fourhoursafterthetimeIsawthebloodstains.’
‘Iprotest,’saidSirHenry.‘Thisisnotaproblem—thisisaghoststory.MissLemprièreisevidentlyamedium.’
MrPetherickgavehisusualcough.
‘Onepointstrikesme—’hesaid,‘thatblowonthehead.Wemustnot,Ithink,excludethepossibilityoffoulplay.ButIdonotseethatwehaveanydatatogoupon.MissLemprière’shallucination,orvision,isinterestingcertainly,butIdonotseeclearlythepointonwhichshewishesustopronounce.’
‘Indigestionandcoincidence,’saidRaymond,‘andanywayyoucan’tbesurethattheywerethesamepeople.Besides,thecurse,orwhateveritwas,wouldonlyapplytotheactualinhabitantsofRathole.’
‘Ifeel,’saidSirHenry,‘thatthesinisterseafaringmanhassomethingtodowiththistale.ButIagreewithMrPetherick,MissLemprièrehasgivenusverylittledata.’
JoyceturnedtoDrPenderwhosmilinglyshookhishead.
‘Itisamostinterestingstory,’hesaid,‘butIamafraidIagreewithSirHenryandMrPetherickthatthereisverylittledatatogoupon.’
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,afterinquiringforthesupposedCarolandwhentheygotoutsidethevillageCarolwouldhastilychangebackintoherownflamboyantclothesandhervividmake-upandwouldgobackthereanddriveoffinherowncar.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.‘TherewasMrsGreen,youknow,sheburiedfivechildren—andeveryoneoftheminsured.Well,naturally,onebegantogetsuspicious.’
Sheshookherhead.
‘Thereisagreatdealofwickednessinvillagelife.Ihopeyoudearyoungpeoplewillneverrealizehowverywickedtheworldis.’
Chapter5MotivevOpportunity
MrPetherickclearedhisthroatrathermoreimportantlythanusual.
‘Iamafraidmylittleproblemwillseemrathertametoyouall,’hesaidapologetically,‘afterthesensationalstorieswehavebeenhearing.Thereisnobloodshedinmine,butitseemstomeaninterestingandratheringeniouslittleproblem,andfortunatelyIaminthepositiontoknowtherightanswertoit.’
‘Itisn’tterriblylegal,isit?’askedJoyceLemprière.‘ImeanpointsoflawandlotsofBarnabyvSkinnerintheyear1881,andthingslikethat.’
MrPetherickbeamedappreciativelyatheroverhiseyeglasses.
‘No,no,mydearyounglady.Youneedhavenofearsonthatscore.ThestoryIamabouttotellisaperfectlysimpleandstraightforwardoneandcanbefollowedbyanylayman.’
‘Nolegalquibbles,now,’saidMissMarple,shakingaknittingneedleathim
‘Certainlynot,’saidMrPetherick.
‘Ahwell,Iamnotsosure,butlet’shearthestory.’
‘Itconcernsaformerclientofmine.IwillcallhimMrClode—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.HowMrClodehadgraduallygotinterestedinthesubjectandhowonthetopofthisinteresthehadchancedtomeetanAmericanmedium,aMrsEurydiceSpragg.Thiswoman,whomGeorgedidnothesitatetocharacterizeasanoutandoutswindler,hadgainedanimmenseascendancyoverSimonClode.ShewaspracticallyalwaysinthehouseandmanyséanceswereheldinwhichthespiritofChristobelmanifesteditselftothedotinggrandfather.
‘ImaysayhereandnowthatIdonotbelongtotheranksofthosewhocoverspiritualismwithridiculeandscorn.Iam,asIhavetoldyou,abelieverinevidence.AndIthinkthatwhenwehaveanimpartialmindandweightheevidenceinfavourofspiritualismthereremainsmuchthatcannotbeputdowntofraudorlightlysetaside.Therefore,asIsay,Iamneitherabelievernoranunbeliever.Thereiscertaintestimonywithwhichonecannotaffordtodisagree.
‘Ontheotherhand,spiritualismlendsitselfveryeasilytofraudandimposture,andfromallyoungGeorgeClodetoldmeaboutthisMrsEurydiceSpraggIfeltmoreandmoreconvincedthatSimonClodewasinbadhandsandthatMrsSpraggwasprobablyanimposteroftheworsttype.Theoldman,shrewdashewasinpracticalmatters,wouldbeeasilyimposedonwherehisloveforhisdeadgrandchildwasconcerned.
‘TurningthingsoverinmymindIfeltmoreandmoreuneasy.IwasfondoftheyoungClodes,MaryandGeorge,andIrealizedthatthisMrsSpraggandherinfluenceovertheirunclemightleadtotroubleinthefuture.
‘AttheearliestopportunityImadeapretextforcallingonSimonClode.IfoundMrsSpragginstalledasanhonouredandfriendlyguest.AssoonasIsawhermyworstapprehensionswerefulfilled.Shewasastoutwomanofmiddleage,dressedinaflamboyantstyle.Veryfullofcantphrasesabout“Ourdearoneswhohavepassedover,”andotherthingsofthekind.
‘Herhusbandwasalsostayinginthehouse,MrAbsalomSpragg,athinlankmanwithamelancholyexpressionandextremelyfurtiveeyes.AssoonasIcould,IgotSimonClodetomyselfandsoundedhimtactfullyonthesubject.Hewasfullofenthusiasm.EurydiceSpraggwaswonderful!Shehadbeensenttohimdirectlyinanswertoaprayer!Shecarednothingformoney,thejoyofhelpingaheartinafflictionwasenoughforher.Shehadquiteamother’sfeelingforlittleChris.Hewasbeginningtoregardheralmostasadaughter.Thenhewentontogivemedetails—howhehadheardhisChris’svoicespeaking—howshewaswellandhappywithherfatherandmother.Hewentontotellothersentimentsexpressedbythechild,whichinmyremembranceoflittleChristobelseemedtomehighlyunlikely.Shelaidstressonthefactthat“FatherandMotherloveddearMrsSpragg”.
‘“But,ofcourse,”hebrokeoff,“youareascoffer,Petherick.”
‘“No,Iamnotascoffer.Veryfarfromit.SomeofthemenwhohavewrittenonthesubjectaremenwhosetestimonyIwouldacceptunhesitatingly,andIshouldaccordanymediumrecommendedbythemrespectandcredence.IpresumethatthisMrsSpraggiswellvouchedfor?”
‘SimonwentintoecstasiesoverMrsSpragg.ShehadbeensenttohimbyHeaven.Hehadcomeacrossheratthewateringplacewherehehadspenttwomonthsinthesummer.Achancemeeting,withwhatawonderfulresult!
‘Iwentawayverydissatisfied.Myworstfearswererealized,butIdidnotseewhatIcoulddo.AfteragooddealofthoughtanddeliberationIwrotetoPhilipGarrodwhohad,asImentioned,justmarriedtheeldestClodegirl,Grace.Isetthecasebeforehim—ofcourse,inthemostcarefullyguardedlanguage.Ipointedoutthedangerofsuchawomangainingascendancyovertheoldman’smind.AndIsuggestedthatMrClodeshouldbebroughtintocontactifpossiblewithsomereputablespiritualisticcircles.This,Ithought,wouldnotbeadifficultmatterforPhilipGarrodtoarrange.
‘Garrodwasprompttoact.Herealized,whichIdidnot,thatSimonClode’shealthwasinaveryprecariouscondition,andasapracticalmanhehadnointentionoflettinghiswifeorhersisterandbrotherbedespoiledoftheinheritancewhichwassorightlytheirs.Hecamedownthefollowingweek,bringingwithhimasaguestnootherthanthefamousProfessorLongman.Longmanwasascientistofthefirstorder,amanwhoseassociationwithspiritualismcompelledthelattertobetreatedwithrespect.Notonlyabrilliantscientist;hewasamanoftheutmostuprightnessandprobity.
‘Theresultofthevisitwasmostunfortunate.Longman,itseemed,hadsaidverylittlewhilehewasthere.Twoséanceswereheld—underwhatconditionsIdonotknow.Longmanwasnon-committalallthetimehewasinthehouse,butafterhisdeparturehewrotealettertoPhilipGarrod.InitheadmittedthathehadnotbeenabletodetectMrsSpragginfraud,neverthelesshisprivateopinionwasthatthephenomenawerenotgenuine.MrGarrod,hesaid,wasatlibertytoshowthislettertohisuncleifhethoughtfit,andhesuggestedthathehimselfshouldputMrClodeintouchwithamediumofperfectintegrity.
‘PhilipGarrodhadtakenthisletterstraighttohisuncle,buttheresultwasnotwhathehadanticipated.Theoldmanflewintoatoweringrage.ItwasallaplottodiscreditMrsSpraggwhowasamalignedandinjuredsaint!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.“MrsSpraggmaybeallthatsheclaimstobe.Ishouldseenoobjectiontoyouleavingherasmalllegacyasamementoofgratitude;butItellyoufrankly,Clode,thattodisinherityourownfleshandbloodinfavourofastrangeriswrong.”
‘WiththatIturnedtodepart.IhaddonewhatIcouldandmademyprotest.
‘MaryClodecameoutofthedrawing-roomandmetmeinthehall.
‘“Youwillhaveteabeforeyougo,won’tyou?Comeinhere,”andsheledmeintothedrawing-room.
‘Afirewasburningonthehearthandtheroomlookedcosyandcheerful.Sherelievedmeofmyovercoatjustasherbrother,George,cameintotheroom.Hetookitfromherandlaiditacrossachairatthefarendoftheroom,thenhecamebacktothefiresidewherewedranktea.Duringthemealaquestionaroseaboutsomepointconcerningtheestate.SimonClodesaidhedidn’twanttobebotheredwithitandhadleftittoGeorgetodecide.Georgewasrathernervousabouttrustingtohisownjudgment.Atmysuggestion,weadjournedtothestudyafterteaandIlookedoverthepapersinquestion.MaryClodeaccompaniedus.
‘AquarterofanhourlaterIpreparedtotakemydeparture.RememberingthatIhadleftmyovercoatinthedrawing-room,Iwenttheretofetchit.TheonlyoccupantoftheroomwasMrsSpragg,whowaskneelingbythechaironwhichtheovercoatlay.Sheseemedtobedoingsomethingratherunnecessarytothecretonnecover.Sherosewithaveryredfaceasweentered.
‘“Thatcoverneverdidsitright,”shecomplained.“My!Icouldmakeabetterfitmyself.”
‘Itookupmyovercoatandputiton.AsIdidsoInoticedthattheenvelopecontainingthewillhadfallenoutofthepocketandwaslyingonthefloor.Ireplaceditinmypocket,saidgoodbye,andtookmydeparture.
‘Onarrivalatmyoffice,Iwilldescribemynextactionscarefully.Iremovedmyovercoatandtookthewillfromthepocket.Ihaditinmyhandandwasstandingbythetablewhenmyclerkcamein.Somebodywishedtospeaktomeonthetelephone,andtheextensiontomydeskwasoutoforder.Iaccordinglyaccompaniedhimtotheouterofficeandremainedthereforaboutfiveminutesengagedinconversationoverthetelephone.
‘WhenIemerged,Ifoundmyclerkwaitingforme.
‘“MrSpragghascalledtoseeyou,sir.Ishowedhimintoyouroffice.”
‘IwenttheretofindMrSpraggsittingbythetable.Heroseandgreetedmeinasomewhatunctuousmanner,thenproceededtoalongdiscursivespeech.Inthemainitseemedtobeanuneasyjustificationofhimselfandhiswife.Hewasafraidpeopleweresayingetc.,etc.Hiswifehadbeenknownfromherbabyhoodupwardsforthepurenessofherheartandhermotives…andsoonandsoon.Iwas,Iamafraid,rathercurtwithhim.IntheendIthinkherealizedthathisvisitwasnotbeingasuccessandheleftsomewhatabruptly.IthenrememberedthatIhadleftthewilllyingonthetable.Itookit,sealedtheenvelope,andwroteonitandputitawayinthesafe.
‘NowIcometothecruxofmystory.TwomonthslaterMrSimonClodedied.Iwillnotgointolong-windeddiscussions,Iwilljuststatethebarefacts.Whenthesealedenvelopecontainingthewillwasopeneditwasfoundtocontainasheetofblankpaper.’
Hepaused,lookingroundthecircleofinterestedfaces.Hesmiledhimselfwithacertainenjoyment.
‘Youappreciatethepoint,ofcourse?Fortwomonthsthesealedenvelopehadlaininmysafe.Itcouldnothavebeentamperedwiththen.No,thetimelimitwasaveryshortone.Betweenthemomentthewillwassignedandmylockingitawayinthesafe.Nowwhohadhadtheopportunity,andtowhoseinterestswoulditbetodoso?
‘Iwillrecapitulatethevitalpointsinabriefsummary:ThewillwassignedbyMrClode,placedbymeinanenvelope—sofarsogood.Itwasthenputbymeinmyovercoatpocket.ThatovercoatwastakenfrommebyMaryandhandedbyhertoGeorge,whowasinfullsightofmewhilsthandlingthecoat.DuringthetimethatIwasinthestudyMrsEurydiceSpraggwouldhavehadplentyoftimetoextracttheenvelopefromthecoatpocketandreaditscontentsand,asamatteroffact,findingtheenvelopeonthegroundandnotinthepocketseemedtopointtoherhavingdoneso.Butherewecometoacuriouspoint:shehadtheopportunityofsubstitutingtheblankpaper,butnomotive.Thewillwasinherfavour,andbysubstitutingablankpieceofpapershedespoiledherselfoftheheritageshehadbeensoanxioustogain.ThesameappliedtoMrSpragg.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,‘butsurelythathasnothingtodowiththeveryinterestingstorythatMrPetherickhasbeentellingus.’
‘Ohyes,ithas,’saidMissMarple.‘Itisacatch!AndsoisMrPetherick’sstoryacatch.Solikealawyer!Ah,mydearoldfriend!’Sheshookareprovingheadathim.
‘Iwonderifyoureallyknow,’saidthelawyerwithatwinkle.
MissMarplewroteafewwordsonapieceofpaper,foldedthemupandpassedthemacrosstohim.
MrPetherickunfoldedthepaper,readwhatwaswrittenonitandlookedacrossatherappreciatively.
‘Mydearfriend,’hesaid,‘isthereanythingyoudonotknow?’
‘Iknewthatasachild,’saidMissMarple.‘Playedwithittoo.’
‘Ifeelratheroutofthis,’saidSirHenry.‘IfeelsurethatMrPetherickhassomecleverlegallegerdemainuphissleeve.’
‘Notatall,’saidMrPetherick.‘Notatall.Itisaperfectlyfairstraightforwardproposition.YoumustnotpayanyattentiontoMissMarple.Shehasherownwayoflookingatthings.’
‘Weshouldbeabletoarriveatthetruth,’saidRaymondWestatriflevexedly.‘Thefactscertainlyseemplainenough.Fivepersonsactuallytouchedthatenvelope.TheSpraggsclearlycouldhavemeddledwithitbutequallyclearlytheydidnotdoso.Thereremainstheotherthree.Now,whenoneseesthemarvellouswaysthatconjurershaveofdoingathingbeforeone’seyes,itseemstomethatthepapercouldhavebeenextractedandanothersubstitutedbyGeorgeClodeduringthetimehewascarryingtheovercoattothefarendoftheroom.’
‘Well,Ithinkitwasthegirl,’saidJoyce.‘Ithinkthehousemaidrandownandtoldherwhatwashappeningandshegotholdofanotherblueenvelopeandjustsubstitutedtheonefortheother.’
SirHenryshookhishead.‘Idisagreewithyouboth,’hesaidslowly.‘Thesesortofthingsaredonebyconjurers,andtheyaredoneonthestageandinnovels,butIthinktheywouldbeimpossibletodoinreallife,especiallyundertheshrewdeyesofamanlikemyfriendMrPetherickhere.ButIhaveanidea—itisonlyanideaandnothingmore.WeknowthatProfessorLongmanhadjustbeendownforavisitandthathesaidverylittle.ItisonlyreasonabletosupposethattheSpraggsmayhavebeenveryanxiousastotheresultofthatvisit.IfSimonClodedidnottakethemintohisconfidence,whichisquiteprobable,theymayhaveviewedhissendingforMrPetherickfromquiteanotherangle.TheymayhavebelievedthatMrClodehadalreadymadeawillwhichbenefitedEurydiceSpraggandthatthisnewonemightbemadefortheexpresspurposeofcuttingheroutasaresultofProfessorLongman’srevelations,oralternatively,asyoulawyerssay,PhilipGarrodhadimpressedonhisuncletheclaimsofhisownfleshandblood.Inthatcase,supposeMrsSpraggpreparedtoeffectasubstitution.Thisshedoes,butMrPetherickcominginatanunfortunatemomentshehadnotimetoreadtherealdocumentandhastilydestroysitbyfireincasethelawyershoulddiscoverhisloss.’
Joyceshookherheadverydecidedly.
‘Shewouldneverburnitwithoutreadingit.’
‘Thesolutionisratheraweakone,’admittedSirHenry.‘Isuppose—er—MrPetherickdidnotassistProvidencehimself.’
Thesuggestionwasonlyalaughingone,butthelittlelawyerdrewhimselfupinoffendeddignity.
‘Amostimpropersuggestion,’hesaidwithsomeasperity.
‘WhatdoesDrPendersay?’askedSirHenry.
‘IcannotsayIhaveanyveryclearideas.IthinkthesubstitutionmusthavebeeneffectedbyeitherMrsSpraggorherhusband,possiblyforthemotivethatSirHenrysuggests.IfshedidnotreadthewilluntilafterMrPetherickhaddeparted,shewouldthenbeinsomewhatofadilemma,sinceshecouldnotownuptoheractioninthematter.PossiblyshewouldplaceitamongMrClode’spaperswhereshethoughtitwouldbefoundafterhisdeath.Butwhyitwasn’tfoundIdon’tknow.Itmightbeamerespeculationthis—thatEmmaGauntcameacrossit—andoutofmisplaceddevotiontoheremployers—deliberatelydestroyedit.’
‘IthinkDrPender’ssolutionisthebestofall,’saidJoyce.‘Isitright,MrPetherick?’
Thelawyershookhishead.
‘IwillgoonwhereIleftoff.Iwasdumbfoundedandquiteasmuchatseaasallofyouare.Idon’tthinkIshouldeverhaveguessedthetruth—probablynot—butIwasenlightened.Itwascleverlydonetoo.
‘IwentanddinedwithPhilipGarrodaboutamonthlaterandinthecourseofourafter-dinnerconversationhementionedaninterestingcasethathadrecentlycometohisnotice.’
‘“Ishouldliketotellyouaboutit,Petherick,inconfidence,ofcourse.”
‘“Quiteso,”Ireplied.
‘“Afriendofminewhohadexpectationsfromoneofhisrelativeswasgreatlydistressedtofindthatthatrelativehadthoughtsofbenefitingatotallyunworthyperson.Myfriend,Iamafraid,isatrifleunscrupulousinhismethods.TherewasamaidinthehousewhowasgreatlydevotedtotheinterestsofwhatImaycallthelegitimateparty.Myfriendgaveherverysimpleinstructions.Hegaveherafountainpen,dulyfilled.Shewastoplacethisinadrawerinthewritingtableinhermaster’sroom,butnottheusualdrawerwherethepenwasgenerallykept.Ifhermasteraskedhertowitnesshissignaturetoanydocumentandaskedhertobringhimhispen,shewastobringhimnotthe
‘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,pausingtoshakeafingeroncemoreatMrPetherick.
‘Butallthesameit’sacatch,MrPetherick,’shesaid.‘Justlikealawyer.’
Chapter6TheThumbMarkofStPeter
‘Andnow,AuntJane,itisuptoyou,’saidRaymondWest.
‘Yes,AuntJane,weareexpectingsomethingreallyspicy,’chimedinJoyceLemprière.
‘Now,youarelaughingatme,mydears,’saidMissMarpleplacidly.‘YouthinkthatbecauseIhavelivedinthisout-of-the-wayspotallmylifeIamnotlikelytohavehadanyveryinterestingexperiences.’
‘GodforbidthatIshouldeverregardvillagelifeaspeacefulanduneventful,’saidRaymondwithfervour.‘Notafterthehorriblerevelationswehaveheardfromyou!ThecosmopolitanworldseemsamildandpeacefulplacecomparedwithStMaryMead.’
‘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:WhocutthemeshesofMrsJones’sstringbag?andwhyMrsSimsonlyworehernewfurcoatonce.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.ShemarriedaMrDenmanwhenshewastwenty-two,andIamafraiditwasnotaveryhappymarriage.Ihadhopedverymuchthattheattachmentwouldnotcometoanything,forMrDenmanwasamanofveryviolenttemper—notthekindofmanwhowouldbepatientwithMabel’sfoibles—andIalsolearnedthattherewasinsanityinhisfamily.However,girlswerejustasobstinatethenastheyarenow,andastheyalwayswillbe.AndMabelmarriedhim.
‘Ididn’tseeverymuchofherafterhermarriage.Shecametostaywithmeonceortwice,andtheyaskedmethereseveraltimes,but,asamatteroffact,Iamnotveryfondofstayinginotherpeople’shouses,andIalwaysmanagedtomakesomeexcuse.TheyhadbeenmarriedtenyearswhenMrDenmandiedsuddenly.Therewerenochildren,andheleftallhismoneytoMabel.Iwrote,ofcourse,andofferedtocometoMabelifshewantedme;butshewrotebackaverysensibleletter,andIgatheredthatshewasnotaltogetheroverwhelmedbygrief.Ithoughtthatwasonlynatural,becauseIknewtheyhadnotbeengettingontogetherforsometime.ItwasnotuntilaboutthreemonthsafterwardsthatIgotamosthystericalletterfromMabel,beggingmetocometoher,andsayingthatthingsweregoingfrombadtoworse,andshecouldn’tstanditmuchlonger.
‘So,ofcourse,’continuedMissMarple,‘IputClaraonboardwagesandsenttheplateandtheKingCharlestankardtothebank,andIwentoffatonce.IfoundMabelinaverynervousstate.Thehouse,MyrtleDene,wasafairlylargeone,verycomfortablyfurnished.Therewasacookandahouse-parlourmaidaswellasanurse-attendanttolookafteroldMrDenman,Mabel’shusband’sfather,whowaswhatiscalled“notquiterightinthehead”.Quitepeacefulandwellbehaved,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.IwasknittingacomforterforoldMrsHayatthetime,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.
‘“DrRawlinson.”
‘Iknewhimbysight.Mabelhadpointedhimouttometheotherday.ToputitinperfectlyplainlanguagehewaswhatIwoulddescribeasanolddodderer.Ihavehadtoomuchexperienceoflifetobelieveintheinfallibilityofdoctors.Someofthemareclevermenandsomeofthemarenot,andhalfthetimethebestofthemdon’tknowwhatisthematterwithyou.Ihavenotruckwithdoctorsandtheirmedicinesmyself.
‘Ithoughtthingsover,andthenIputmybonnetonandwenttocallonDrRawlinson.HewasjustwhatIhadthoughthim—aniceoldman,kindly,vague,andsoshort-sightedastobepitiful,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,wholooksafteroldMrDenman,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.IhavealreadytoldbothMrandMrsDenmanthatheoughttobeinaninstitution,butMrsDenmanwouldn’thearofitatanyprice.”
‘IwillsayforMabelthatshealwayshadakindlyheart.
‘Well,therethethingwas.Ithoughtitoverineveryaspect,andatlastIdecidedthattherewasonlyonethingtobedone.Inviewoftherumoursthatweregoingabout,permissionmustbeappliedfortoexhumethebody,andaproperpost-mortemmustbemadeandlyingtonguesquietenedonceandforall.Mabel,ofcourse,madeafuss,mostlyonsentimentalgrounds—disturbingthedeadmaninhispeacefulgrave,etc.,etc.—butIwasfirm.
‘Iwon’tmakealongstoryofthispartofit.Wegottheorderandtheydidtheautopsy,orwhatevertheycallit,buttheresultwasnotsosatisfactoryasitmighthavebeen.Therewasnotraceofarsenic—thatwasalltothegood—buttheactualwordsofthereportwerethattherewasnothingtoshowbywhatmeansdeceasedhadcometohisdeath
‘So,yousee,thatdidn’tleadusoutoftroublealtogether.Peoplewentontalking—aboutrarepoisonsimpossibletodetect,andrubbishofthatsort.Ihadseenthepathologistwhohaddonethepost-mortem,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—themarksofStPeter’sthumb.Thatisthelegend,youknow.StPeter’sthumb.Andthatbroughtthingshometome.Ineededfaith,theevertruefaithofStPeter.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,’saidDrPender.
‘Mostinteresting,’saidMrPetherick.‘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.IwentstraightupstairstooldMrDenman’sroom.Ididn’tbeataboutthebush.
‘“MrDenman,”Isaid,“Iknoweverything.Whydidyoupoisonyourson?”
‘Helookedatmeforaminuteortwo—ratherahandsomeoldmanhewas,inhisway—andthenheburstoutlaughing.ItwasoneofthemostviciouslaughsIhaveeverheard.Icanassureyouitmademyfleshcreep.Ihadonlyheardanythinglikeitoncebefore,whenpoorMrsJoneswentoffherhead.
‘“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,DrRawlinsonwasveryshortsighted,pooroldman.AndinthesamemedicalbookwhichIwentonreading—andsomeofitwasmostinteresting—itgavethesymptomsofptomainepoisoningandatropine,andtheyarenotunlike.ButIcanassureyouIhaveneverseenapileoffreshhaddockwithoutthinkingofthethumbmarkofStPeter.’
Therewasaverylongpause.
‘Mydearfriend,’saidMrPetherick.‘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.’
Chapter7TheBlueGeranium
‘WhenIwasdownherelastyear—’saidSirHenryClithering,andstopped.
Hishostess,MrsBantry,lookedathimcuriously.
TheEx-CommissionerofScotlandYardwasstayingwitholdfriendsofhis,ColonelandMrsBantry,wholivednearStMaryMead.
MrsBantry,peninhand,hadjustaskedhisadviceastowhoshouldbeinvitedtomakeasixthguestatdinnerthatevening.
‘Yes?’saidMrsBantryencouragingly.‘Whenyouwereherelastyear?’
‘Tellme,’saidSirHenry,‘doyouknowaMissMarple?’
MrsBantrywassurprised.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,dearoldMissMarplehashardlyeverbeenoutofStMaryMead.’
‘Ah!Butaccordingtoher,thathasgivenherunlimitedopportunitiesofobservinghumannature—underthemicroscopeasitwere.’
‘Isupposethere’ssomethinginthat,’concededMrsBantry.‘Onewouldatleastknowthepettysideofpeople.ButIdon’tthinkwehaveanyreallyexcitingcriminalsinourmidst.IthinkwemusttryherwithArthur’sghoststoryafterdinner.I’dbethankfulifshe’dfindasolutiontothat.’
‘Ididn’tknowthatArthurbelievedinghosts?’
‘Oh!hedoesn’t.That’swhatworrieshimso.Andithappenedtoafriendofhis,GeorgePritchard—amostprosaicperson.It’sreallyrathertragicforpoorGeorge.Eitherthisextraordinarystoryistrue—orelse—’
‘Orelsewhat?’
MrsBantrydidnotanswer.Afteraminuteortwoshesaidirrelevantly:
‘Youknow,IlikeGeorge—everyonedoes.Onecan’tbelievethathe—butpeopledodosuchextraordinarythings.’
SirHenrynodded.Heknew,betterthanMrsBantry,theextraordinarythingsthatpeopledid.
SoitcameaboutthatthateveningMrsBantrylookedroundherdinnertable(shiveringalittleasshedidso,becausethedining-room,likemostEnglishdining-rooms,wasextremelycold)andfixedhergazeontheveryuprightoldladysittingonherhusband’sright.MissMarpleworeblacklacemittens;anoldlacefichuwasdrapedroundhershouldersandanotherpieceoflacesurmountedherwhitehair.Shewastalkinganimatedlytotheelderlydoctor,DrLloyd,abouttheWorkhouseandthesuspectedshortcomingsoftheDistrictNurse.
MrsBantrymarvelledanew.SheevenwonderedwhetherSirHenryhadbeenmakinganelaboratejoke—butthereseemednopointinthat.Incrediblethatwhathehadsaidcouldbereallytrue.
Herglancewentonandrestedaffectionatelyonherred-facedbroad-shoulderedhusbandashesattalkinghorsestoJaneHelier,thebeautifulandpopularactress.Jane,morebeautiful(ifthatwerepossible)offthestagethanon,openedenormousblueeyesandmurmuredatdiscreetintervals:‘Really?’‘Ohfancy!’‘Howextraordinary!’Sheknewnothingwhateverabouthorsesandcaredless.
‘Arthur,’saidMrsBantry,‘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,’saidMrsBantrywithconviction.‘IfGeorgePritchardhadbrainedherwithahatchet,andtherehadbeenanywomanonthejury,hewouldhavebeentriumphantlyacquitted.’
‘Idon’tquiteknowhowthisbusinessstarted.Georgewasrathervagueaboutit.IgatherMrsPritchardhadalwayshadaweaknessforfortunetellers,palmists,clairvoyantes—anythingofthatsort.Georgedidn’tmind.Ifshefoundamusementinitwellandgood.Butherefusedtogointorhapsodieshimself,andthatwasanothergrievance.
‘Asuccessionofhospitalnurseswasalwayspassingthroughthehouse,MrsPritchardusuallybecomingdissatisfiedwiththemafterafewweeks.Oneyoungnursehadbeenverykeenonthisfortunetellingstunt,andforatimeMrsPritchardhadbeenveryfondofher.Thenshesuddenlyfelloutwithherandinsistedonhergoing.Shehadbackanothernursewhohadbeenwithherpreviously—anolderwoman,experiencedandtactfulindealingwithaneuroticpatient.NurseCopling,accordingtoGeorge,wasaverygoodsort—asensiblewomantotalkto.SheputupwithMrsPritchard’stantrumsandnervestormswithcompleteindifference.
‘MrsPritchardalwayslunchedupstairs,anditwasusualatlunchtimeforGeorgeandthenursetocometosomearrangementfortheafternoon.Strictlyspeaking,thenursewentofffromtwotofour,but“tooblige”asthephrasegoes,shewouldsometimestakehertimeoffafterteaifGeorgewantedtobefreefortheafternoon.Onthisoccasion,shementionedthatshewasgoingtoseeasisteratGoldersGreenandmightbealittlelatereturning.George’sfacefell,forhehadarrangedtoplayaroundofgolf.NurseCopling,however,reassuredhim.
‘“We’llneitherofusbemissed,MrPritchard.”Atwinklecameintohereye.“MrsPritchard’sgoingtohavemoreexcitingcompanythanours.”
‘“Who’sthat?”
‘“Waitaminute,”NurseCopling’seyestwinkledmorethanever.“Letmegetitright.Zarida,PsychicReaderoftheFuture.”
‘“OhLord!”groanedGeorge.“That’sanewone,isn’tit?”
‘“Quitenew.Ibelievemypredecessor,NurseCarstairs,sentheralong.MrsPritchardhasn’tseenheryet.Shemademewrite,fixinganappointmentforthisafternoon.”
‘“Well,atanyrate,Ishallgetmygolf,”saidGeorge,andhewentoffwiththekindliestfeelingstowardsZarida,theReaderoftheFuture.
‘Onhisreturntothehouse,hefoundMrsPritchardinastateofgreatagitation.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,”addedMrsPritchard,“Ialwayshavetoldyouthatblueasacolourisrepellenttome.Ifeelanaturalinstinctivesortofwarningagainst.”
‘Georgewasmuchtoowisetoremarkthathehadneverheardhersaysobefore.InsteadheaskedwhatthemysteriousZaridawaslike.MrsPritchardenteredwithgustouponadescription.
‘“Blackhairincoiledknobsoverherears—hereyeswerehalfclosed—greatblackrimsroundthem—shehadablackveiloverhermouthandchin—andshespokeinakindofsingingvoicewithamarkedforeignaccent—Spanish,Ithink—”
‘“Infactalltheusualstock-in-trade,”saidGeorgecheerfully.
‘Hiswifeimmediatelyclosedhereyes.
‘“Ifeelextremelyill,”shesaid.“Ringfornurse.Unkindnessupsetsme,asyouknowonlytoowell.”
‘ItwastwodayslaterthatNurseCoplingcametoGeorgewithagraveface.
‘“WillyoucometoMrsPritchard,please.Shehashadaletterwhichupsetshergreatly.”
‘Hefoundhiswifewiththeletterinherhand.Shehelditouttohim.
‘“Readit,”shesaid.
‘Georgereadit.Itwasonheavilyscentedpaper,andthewritingwasbigandblack.
‘Ihaveseenthefuture.Bewarnedbeforeitistoolate.BewareoftheFullMoon.TheBluePrimrosemeansWarning;theBlueHollyhockmeansDanger;theBlueGeraniummeansDeath…
‘Justabouttoburstoutlaughing,GeorgecaughtNurseCopling’seye.Shemadeaquickwarninggesture.Hesaidratherawkwardly,“Thewoman’sprobablytryingtofrightenyou,Mary.Anywaytherearen’tsuchthingsasblueprimrosesandbluegeraniums.”
‘ButMrsPritchardbegantocryandsayherdayswerenumbered.NurseCoplingcameoutwithGeorgeuponthelanding.
‘“Ofallthesillytomfoolery,”heburstout.
‘“Isupposeitis.”
‘Somethinginthenurse’stonestruckhim,andhestaredatherinamazement
‘“Surely,nurse,youdon’tbelieve—”
‘“No,no,MrPritchard.Idon’tbelieveinreadingthefuture—that’snonsense.Whatpuzzlesmeisthemeaningofthis.Fortune-tellersareusuallyoutforwhattheycanget.ButthiswomanseemstobefrighteningMrsPritchardwithnoadvantagetoherself.Ican’tseethepoint.There’sanotherthing—”
‘“Yes?”
‘“MrsPritchardsaysthatsomethingaboutZaridawasfaintlyfamiliartoher.”
‘“Well?”
‘“Well,Idon’tlikeit,MrPritchard,that’sall.”
‘“Ididn’tknowyouweresosuperstitious,nurse.”
‘“I’mnotsuperstitious;butIknowwhenathingisfishy.”
‘Itwasaboutfourdaysafterthisthatthefirstincidenthappened.Toexplainittoyou,IshallhavetodescribeMrsPritchard’sroom—’
‘You’dbetterletmedothat,’interruptedMrsBantry.‘Itwaspaperedwithoneofthosenewwall-paperswhereyouapplyclumpsofflowerstomakeakindofherbaceousborder.Theeffectisalmostlikebeinginagarden—though,ofcourse,theflowersareallwrong.Imeantheysimplycouldn’tbeinbloomallatthesametime—’
‘Don’tletapassionforhorticulturalaccuracyrunawaywithyou,Dolly,’saidherhusband.‘Weallknowyou’reanenthusiasticgardener.’
‘Well,itisabsurd,’protestedMrsBantry.‘TohavebluebellsanddaffodilsandlupinsandhollyhocksandMichaelmasdaisiesallgroupedtogether.’
‘Mostunscientific,’saidSirHenry.‘Buttoproceedwiththestory.’
‘Well,amongthesemassedflowerswereprimroses,clumpsofyellowandpinkprimrosesand—ohgoon,Arthur,thisisyourstory—’
ColonelBantrytookupthetale.
‘MrsPritchardrangherbellviolentlyonemorning.Thehouseholdcamerunning—thoughtshewasinextremis;notatall.Shewasviolentlyexcitedandpointingatthewallpaper;andtheresureenoughwasoneblueprimroseinthemidstoftheothers…’
‘Oh!’saidMissHelier,‘howcreepy!’
‘Thequestionwas:Hadn’ttheblueprimrosealwaysbeenthere?ThatwasGeorge’ssuggestionandthenurse’s.ButMrsPritchardwouldn’thaveitatanyprice.Shehadnevernoticedittillthatverymorningandthenightbeforehadbeenfullmoon.Shewasveryupsetaboutit.’
‘ImetGeorgePritchardthatsamedayandhetoldmeaboutit,’saidMrsBantry.‘IwenttoseeMrsPritchardanddidmybesttoridiculethewholething;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.WhatuseisMrsPritchard’slifetoher?Noneatall;andit’shellforGeorgePritchard.Tohavehiswifefrightenedoutofexistencewouldbethebestthingthatcouldhappentohim.”Isaid,“Georgeismostawfullygoodtoheralways.”Andshesaid,“Yes,hedeservesareward,poordear.He’saveryattractiveperson,GeorgePritchard.Thelastnursethoughtso—theprettyone—whatwashername?Carstairs.ThatwasthecauseoftherowbetweenherandMrsP.”
‘NowIdidn’tlikehearingJeansaythat.Ofcourseonehadwondered—’
MrsBantrypausedsignificantly.
‘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,’saidMrsBantryresignedly,‘wantstogetbacktohisghosts.’
‘IhadtherestofthestoryfromGeorgehimself,’wentontheColonel.‘There’snodoubtthatMrsPritchardgotthewindupbadlytowardstheendofthenextmonth.Shemarkedoffonacalendarthedaywhenthemoonwouldbefull,andonthatnightshehadboththenurseandthenGeorgeintoherroomandmadethemstudythewallpapercarefully.Therewerepinkhollyhocksandredones,buttherewerenoblueamongstthem.ThenwhenGeorgelefttheroomshelockedthedoor—’
‘Andinthemorningtherewasalargebluehollyhock,’saidMissHelierjoyfully.
‘Quiteright,’saidColonelBantry.‘Oratanyrate,nearlyright.Oneflowerofahollyhockjustaboveherheadhadturnedblue.ItstaggeredGeorge;andofcoursethemoreitstaggeredhimthemoreherefusedtotakethethingseriously.Heinsistedthatthewholethingwassomekindofpracticaljoke.HeignoredtheevidenceofthelockeddoorandthefactthatMrsPritcharddiscoveredthechangebeforeanyone—evenNurseCopling—wasadmitted.
‘ItstaggeredGeorge;anditmadehimunreasonable.Hiswifewantedtoleavethehouse,andhewouldn’tlether.Hewasinclinedtobelieveinthesupernaturalforthefirsttime,buthewasn’tgoingtoadmitit.Heusuallygaveintohiswife,butthistimehewouldn’t.Marywasnottomakeafoolofherself,hesaid.Thewholethingwasthemostinfernalnonsense.
‘Andsothenextmonthspedaway.MrsPritchardmadelessprotestthanonewouldhaveimagined.Ithinkshewassuperstitiousenoughtobelievethatshecouldn’tescapeherfate.Sherepeatedagainandagain:“Theblueprimrose—warning.Thebluehollyhock—danger.Thebluegeranium—death.”Andshewouldlielookingattheclumpofpinky-redgeraniumsnearestherbed.
‘Thewholebusinesswasprettynervy.Eventhenursecaughttheinfection.ShecametoGeorgetwodaysbeforefullmoonandbeggedhimtotakeMrsPritchardaway.Georgewasangry.
‘“Ifalltheflowersonthatdamnedwallturnedintobluedevilsitcouldn’tkillanyone!”heshouted.
‘“Itmight.Shockhaskilledpeoplebeforenow.”
‘“Nonsense,”saidGeorge.
‘Georgehasalwaysbeenashadepig-headed.Youcan’tdrivehim.Ibelievehehadasecretideathathiswifeworkedthechangeherselfandthatitwasallsomemorbidhystericalplanofhers.
‘Well,thefatalnightcame.MrsPritchardlockedthedoorasusual.Shewasverycalm—inalmostanexaltedstateofmind.Thenursewasworriedbyherstate—wantedtogiveherastimulant,aninjectionofstrychnine,butMrsPritchardrefused.Inaway,Ibelieve,shewasenjoyingherself.Georgesaidshewas.’
‘Ithinkthat’squitepossible,’saidMrsBantry.‘Theremusthavebeenastrangesortofglamouraboutthewholething.’
‘Therewasnoviolentringingofabellthenextmorning.MrsPritchardusuallywokeabouteight.When,ateight-thirty,therewasnosignfromher,nurserappedloudlyonthedoor.Gettingnoreply,shefetchedGeorge,andinsistedonthedoorbeingbrokenopen.Theydidsowiththehelpofachisel.
‘OnelookatthestillfigureonthebedwasenoughforNurseCopling.ShesentGeorgetotelephoneforthedoctor,butitwastoolate.MrsPritchard,hesaid,musthavebeendeadatleasteighthours.Hersmellingsaltslaybyherhandonthebed,andonthewallbesideheroneofthepinky-redgeraniumswasabrightdeepblue.’
‘Horrible,’saidMissHelierwithashiver.
SirHenrywasfrowning.
‘Noadditionaldetails?’
ColonelBantryshookhishead,butMrsBantryspokequickly.
‘Thegas.’
‘Whataboutthegas?’askedSirHenry
‘Whenthedoctorarrivedtherewasaslightsmellofgas,andsureenoughhefoundthegasringinthefireplaceveryslightlyturnedon;butsolittleitcouldn’thavemattered.’
‘DidMrPritchardandthenursenotnoticeitwhentheyfirstwentin?’
‘Thenursesaidshedidnoticeaslightsmell.Georgesaidhedidn’tnoticegas,butsomethingmadehimfeelveryqueerandovercome;butheputthatdowntoshock—andprobablyitwas.Atanyratetherewasnoquestionofgaspoisoning.Thesmellwasscarcelynoticeable.’
‘Andthat’stheendofthestory?’
‘No,itisn’t.Onewayandanother,therewasalotoftalk.Theservants,yousee,hadoverheardthings—hadheard,forinstance,MrsPritchardtellingherhusbandthathehatedherandwouldjeerifsheweredying.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,’saidMrsBantry.‘Thatfortune-teller,forinstance—Zarida.Attheaddresswhereshewassupposedtobe,noonehadeverheardofanysuchperson!’
‘Sheappearedonce—outoftheblue,’saidherhusband,‘andthenutterlyvanished.Outoftheblue—that’srathergood!’
‘Andwhatismore,’continuedMrsBantry,‘littleNurseCarstairs,whowassupposedtohaverecommendedher,hadneverevenheardofher.’
Theylookedateachother.
‘It’samysteriousstory,’saidDrLloyd.‘Onecanmakeguesses;buttoguess—’
Heshookhishead.
‘HasMrPritchardmarriedMissInstow?’askedMissMarpleinhergentlevoice.
‘Nowwhydoyouaskthat?’inquiredSirHenry.
MissMarpleopenedgentleblueeyes.
‘Itseemstomesoimportant,’shesaid.‘Havetheymarried?’
ColonelBantryshookhishead.
‘We—well,weexpectedsomethingofthekind—butit’seighteenmonthsnow.Idon’tbelievetheyevenseemuchofeachother.’
‘Thatisimportant,’saidMissMarple.‘Veryimportant.’
‘ThenyouthinkthesameasIdo,’saidMrsBantry.‘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,andifMrsPritchardwasfoolishenoughtodieoffright—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,’saidDrLloyd,‘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,MrsBantrysaidtheywereyellowandpink.Ifitwasapinkprimrosethatturnedblue,ofcourse,thatfitsinperfectly.Butifithappenedtobeayellowone—’
‘Itwasapinkone,’saidMrsBantry.
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,andverymuchthrownwithMrPritchard,whoyousayisanattractiveman.Idaresayshethought,poorthing—well,weneedn’tgointothat.Idon’tsupposesheknewaboutMissInstow,andofcourseafterwards,whenshefoundout,itturnedheragainsthimandshetriedtodoalltheharmshecould.Ofcoursetheletterreallygaveheraway,didn’tit?’
‘Whatletter?’
‘Well,shewrotetothefortune-telleratMrsPritchard’srequest,andthefortune-tellercame,apparentlyinanswertotheletter.Butlateritwasdiscoveredthatthereneverhadbeensuchapersonatthataddress.SothatshowsthatNurseCoplingwasinit.Sheonlypretendedtowrite—sowhatcouldbemorelikelythanthatshewasthefortune-tellerherself?’
‘Ineversawthepointabouttheletter,’saidSirHenry.‘That’samostimportantpoint,ofcourse.’
‘Ratheraboldsteptotake,’saidMissMarple,‘becauseMrsPritchardmighthaverecognizedherinspiteofthedisguise—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,howlikesmelling-saltsitlooked.Andifitwereputinasmelling-saltbottleandsubstitutedfortherealone—well,thepoorladywasinthehabitofusinghersmelling-salts.Indeedyousaidtheywerefoundbyherhand.Then,ofcourse,whileMrPritchardwenttotelephonetothedoctor,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,whenthepoorladyusedhersmelling-salts,thestrongammoniafumeswouldturnitblue.Reallymostingenious.Ofcourse,thegeraniumwasn’tbluewhentheyfirstbrokeintotheroom—nobodynoticedittillafterwards.Whennursechangedthebottles,sheheldtheSalAmmoniacagainstthewallpaperforaminute,Iexpect.’
‘Youmighthavebeenthere,MissMarple,’saidSirHenry.
‘Whatworriesme,’saidMissMarple,‘ispoorMrPritchardandthatnicegirl,MissInstow.Probablybothsuspectingeachotherandkeepingapart—andlifesoveryshort.’
Sheshookherhead.
‘Youneedn’tworry,’saidSirHenry.‘AsamatteroffactIhavesomethingupmysleeve.Anursehasbeenarrestedonachargeofmurderinganelderlypatientwhohadleftheralegacy.Itwasdonewithcyanideofpotassiumsubstitutedforsmelling-salts.NurseCoplingtryingthesametrickagain.MissInstowandMrPritchardneedhavenodoubtsastothetruth.’
‘Nowisn’tthatnice?’criedMissMarple.‘Idon’tmeanaboutthenewmurder,ofcourse.That’sverysad,andshowshowmuchwickednessthereisintheworld,andthatifonceyougiveway—whichremindsmeImustfinishmylittleconversationwithDrLloydaboutthevillagenurse.’
Chapter8TheCompanion
‘Now,DrLloyd,’saidMissHelier.‘Don’tyouknowanycreepystories?’
Shesmiledathim—thesmilethatnightlybewitchedthetheatre-goingpublic.JaneHelierwassometimescalledthemostbeautifulwomaninEngland,andjealousmembersofherownprofessionwereinthehabitofsayingtoeachother:‘OfcourseJane’snotanartist.Shecan’tact—ifyouknowwhatImean.It’sthoseeyes!’
Andthose‘eyes’wereatthisminutefixedappealinglyonthegrizzledelderlybachelordoctorwho,forthelastfiveyears,hadministeredtotheailmentsofthevillageofStMaryMead.
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—inStMaryMead,youknow,MissHelier,’saidDrLloyd.
‘Yousurpriseme,’saidSirHenryClithering.Theex-CommissionerofScotlandYardturnedtoMissMarple.‘IalwaysunderstoodfromourfriendherethatStMaryMeadisapositivehotbedofcrimeandvice.’
‘Oh,SirHenry!’protestedMissMarple,aspotofcolourcomingintohercheeks.‘I’msureIneversaidanythingofthekind.TheonlythingIeversaidwasthathumannatureismuchthesameinavillageasanywhereelse,onlyonehasopportunitiesandleisureforseeingitatcloserquarters.’
‘Butyouhaven’talwayslivedhere,’saidJaneHelier,stilladdressingthedoctor.‘You’vebeeninallsortsofqueerplacesallovertheworld—placeswherethingshappen!’
‘Thatisso,ofcourse,’saidDrLloyd,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,andinnocentofanykindofmake-up.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,’saidMrsBantrytoDrLloyd.‘IlovestoriesaboutsinuousSpanishdancers.ItmakesmeforgethowoldandfatIam.’
‘I’msorry,’saidDrLloydapologetically.‘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?’saidMrsBantryencouragingly.
‘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,’saidDrLloyd,‘there’smoretofollow.Yousee,rightatthetimetherewasonequeerthing.OfcourseIaskedquestionsofthefishermen,etc.,astowhatthey’dseen.Theywereeye-witnesses.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,butitprovedtobesimplyaroomshehadtakeninwhichtokeepherthings.Thelandladyknewnothing,hadonlyseenherwhenshetooktheroom.MissDurranthadremarkedatthetimethatshealwayslikedtohaveoneplaceshecouldcallherowntowhichshecouldreturnatanymoment.TherewereoneortwonicepiecesofoldfurnitureandsomeboundnumbersofAcademypictures,andatrunkfullofpiecesofmaterialboughtatsales,butnopersonalbelongings.ShehadmentionedtothelandladythatherfatherandmotherhaddiedinIndiawhenshewasachildandthatshehadbeenbroughtupbyanunclewhowasaclergyman,butshedidnotsayifhewasherfather’sorhermother’sbrother,sothenamewasnoguide.
‘Itwasn’texactlymysterious,itwasjustunsatisfactory.Theremustbemanylonelywomen,proudandreti-cent,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.Shesucceedsinholdingherunderwaterwhilstpretendingtobesavingher.Sheisrescuedbyaboat.Theyareonalonelybeachfarfromanywhere.AndthenIappear—thelastthingsheexpects.Adoctor!AndanEnglishdoctor!Sheandtellwhatsheknows?’
‘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.Themajorityoftheeye-witnessestoldthesamestoryasMissBarton.IhadbuiltupmyownsuspicionsoutofafleetingexpressionwhichImightpossiblyhaveimagined.TheonlythingIcouldanddiddowastoseethatthewidestinquiriesweremadefortherelationsofAmyDurrant.ThenexttimeIwasinEnglandIevenwentandsawthelandladyofherroom,withtheresultsIhavetoldyou.’
‘Butyoufelttherewassomethingwrong,’saidMissMarple.
DrLloydnodded.
‘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,’wentonDrLloyd.‘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.Thevicarputherdownasbeingslightlymental,anddidnottakeherself-accusationseriously.
‘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’stheproblemDrLloydhassetus.’
‘Oh,well,’saidMissHelier,‘shemighthavekilledherforlotsofreasons.Imean—oh,Idon’tknow.Shemighthavegotonhernerves,orelseshegotjealous,althoughDrLloyddoesn’tmentionanymen,butstillontheboatout—well,youknowwhateveryonesaysaboutboatsandseavoyages.’
MissHelierpaused,slightlyoutofbreath,anditwasborneinuponheraudiencethattheoutsideofJane’scharmingheadwasdistinctlysuperiortotheinside.
‘Iwouldliketohavealotofguesses,’saidMrsBantry.‘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,’saidMrsBantry.‘Unlessshehadayoungbrotherthere’snomotive.Soshemusthavehadayoungbrother.Doyousee,Watson?’
‘That’sallveryfine,Dolly,’saidherhusband.‘Butit’sonlyaguess.’
‘Ofcourseitis,’saidMrsBantry.‘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,MissMarpleknewacasejustlikeitinStMaryMead.’
‘Youalwayslaughatme,SirHenry,’saidMissMarplereproachfully.‘Imustconfessitdoesremindme,justalittle,ofoldMrsTrout.Shedrewtheoldagepension,youknow,forthreeoldwomenwhoweredead,indifferentparishes.’
‘Itsoundsamostcomplicatedandresourcefulcrime,’saidSirHenry.‘Butitdoesn’tseemtometothrowanylightuponourpresentproblem.’
‘Ofcoursenot,’saidMissMarple.‘Itwouldn’t—toyou.Butsomeofthefamilieswereverypoor,andtheoldagepensionwasagreatboontothechildren.Iknowit’sdifficultforanyoneoutsidetounderstand.ButwhatIreallymeantwasthatthewholethinghingedupononeoldwomanbeingsolikeanyotheroldwoman.’
‘Eh?’saidSirHenry,mystified.
‘Ialwaysexplainthingssobadly.WhatImeanisthatwhenDrLloyddescribedthetwoladiesfirst,hedidn’tknowwhichwaswhich,andIdon’tsupposeanyoneelseinthehoteldid.Theywouldhave,ofcourse,afteradayorso,buttheverynextdayoneofthetwowasdrowned,andiftheonewhowasleftsaidshewasMissBarton,Idon’tsupposeitwouldeveroccurtoanyonethatshemightn’tbe.’
‘Youthink—Oh!Isee,’saidSirHenryslowly.
‘It’stheonlynaturalwayofthinkingofit.DearMrsBantrybeganthatwayjustnow.Whyshouldtherichemployerkillthehumblecompanion?It’ssomuchmorelikelytobetheotherwayabout.Imean—that’sthewaythingshappen.’
‘Isit?’saidSirHenry.‘Youshockme.’
‘Butofcourse,’wentonMissMarple,‘shewouldhavetowearMissBarton’sclothes,andtheywouldprobablybealittletightonher,sothathergeneralappearancewouldlookasthoughshehadgotalittlefatter.That’swhyIaskedthatquestion.Agentlemanwouldbesuretothinkitwastheladywhohadgotfatter,andnottheclothesthathadgotsmaller—thoughthatisn’tquitetherightwayofputtingit.’
‘ButifAmyDurrantkilledMissBarton,whatdidshegainbyit?’askedMrsBantry.‘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—’saidMrsBantry—‘doyoumeanthattherewasn’tanyremorse?Thattherewasn’t—thatshedidn’tdrownherself?’
‘Notshe!’saidMissMarple.‘It’sjustMrsTroutoveragain.MrsTroutwasverygoodatredherrings,butshemethermatchinme.AndIcanseethroughyourremorse-drivenMissBarton.Drownherself?WentofftoAustralia,ifI’manygoodatguessing.’
‘Youare,MissMarple,’saidDrLloyd.‘Undoubtedlyyouare.Nowitagaintookmequitebysurprise.Why,youcouldhaveknockedmedownwithafeatherthatdayinMelbourne.’
‘Wasthatwhatyouspokeofasafinalcoincidence?’
DrLloydnodded.
‘Yes,itwasratherroughluckonMissBarton—orMissAmyDurrant—whateveryouliketocallher.Ibecameaship’sdoctorforawhile,andlandinginMelbourne,thefirstpersonIsawasIwalkeddownthestreetwastheladyIthoughthadbeendrownedinCornwall.ShesawthegamewasupasfarasIwasconcerned,andshedidtheboldthing—tookmeintoherconfidence.Acuriouswoman,completelylacking,Isuppose,insomemoralsense.Shewas
‘Averyboldandperfectcrime,’saidSirHenry.‘Almosttheperfectcrime.IfithadbeenMissBartonwhohaddiedintheCanaries,suspicionmightattachtoAmyDurrantandherconnectionwiththeBartonfamilymighthavebeendiscovered;butthechangeofidentityandthedoublecrime,asyoumaycallit,effectuallydidawaywiththat.Yes,almosttheperfectcrime.’
‘Whathappenedtoher?’askedMrsBantry.‘Whatdidyoudointhematter,DrLloyd?’
‘Iwasinaverycuriousposition,MrsBantry.Ofevidenceasthelawunderstandsit,Istillhaveverylittle.Also,therewerecertainsigns,plaintomeasamedicalman,thatthoughstrongandvigorousinappearance,theladywasnotlongforthisworld.Iwenthomewithherandsawtherestofthefamily—acharmingfamily,devotedtotheireldestsisterandwithoutanideaintheirheadsthatshemightprovetohavecommittedacrime.WhybringsorrowonthemwhenIcouldprovenothing?Thelady’sadmissiontomewasunheardbyanyoneelse.IletNaturetakeitscourse.MissAmyBartondiedsixmonthsaftermymeetingwithher.Ihaveoftenwonderedifshewascheerfulandunrepentantuptothelast.’
‘Surelynot,’saidMrsBantry.
‘Iexpectso,’saidMissMarple.‘MrsTroutwas.’
JaneHeliergaveherselfalittleshake
‘Well,’shesaid.‘It’svery,verythrilling.Idon’tquiteunderstandnowwhodrownedwhich.AndhowdoesthisMrsTroutcomeintoit?’
‘Shedoesn’t,mydear,’saidMissMarple.‘Shewasonlyaperson—notaveryniceperson—inthevillage.’
‘Oh!’saidJane.‘Inthevillage.Butnothingeverhappensinavillage,doesit?’Shesighed.‘I’msureIshouldn’thaveanybrainsatallifIlivedinavillage.’
Chapter9TheFourSuspects
Theconversationhoveredroundundiscoveredandunpunishedcrimes.Everyoneinturnvouchsafedtheiropinion:ColonelBantry,hisplumpamiablewife,JaneHelier,DrLloyd,andevenoldMissMarple.Theonepersonwhodidnotspeakwastheonebestfittedinmostpeople’sopiniontodoso.SirHenryClithering,ex-CommissionerofScotlandYard,satsilent,twistinghismoustache—orratherstrokingit—andhalfsmiling,asthoughatsomeinwardthoughtthatamusedhim.
‘SirHenry,’saidMrsBantryatlast.‘Ifyoudon’tsaysomethingIshallscream.Aretherealotofcrimesthatgounpunished,oraretherenot?’
‘You’rethinkingofnewspaperheadlines,MrsBantry.SCOTLANDYARDATFAULTAGAIN.Andalistofunsolvedmysteriestofollow.’
‘Whichreally,Isuppose,formaverysmallpercentageofthewhole?’saidDrLloyd.
‘Yes;thatisso.Thehundredsofcrimesthataresolvedandtheperpetratorspunishedareseldomheraldedandsung.Butthatisn’tquitethepointatissue,isit?Whenyoutalkofundiscoveredcrimesandunsolvedcrimes,youaretalkingoftwodifferentthings.InthefirstcategorycomeallthecrimesthatScotlandYardneverhearsabout,thecrimesthatnooneevenknowshavebeencommitted.’
‘ButIsupposetherearen’tverymanyofthose?’saidMrsBantry.
‘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.‘WhenMrsTrentfoundhalfacrownmissingfromherbag,thepersonitaffectedmostwasthedailywoman,MrsArthur.OfcoursetheTrentsthoughtitwasher,butbeingkindlypeopleandknowingshehadalargefamilyandahusbandwhodrinks,well—theynaturallydidn’twanttogotoextremes.Buttheyfeltdifferentlytowardsher,andtheydidn’tleaveherinchargeofthehousewhentheywentaway,whichmadeagreatdifferencetoher;andotherpeoplebegantogetafeelingabouthertoo.Andthenitsuddenlycameoutthatitwasthegoverness.MrsTrentsawherthroughadoorreflectedinamirror.Thepurestchance—thoughIprefertocallitProvidence.Andthat,I
‘Yes,MissMarple,you’vehitoffmymeaningexactly.Yourcharwomanpersonwasluckyintheinstanceyourelate.Herinnocencewasshown.Butsomepeoplemaygothroughalifetimecrushedbytheweightofasuspicionthatisreallyunjustified.’
‘Areyouthinkingofsomeparticularinstance,SirHenry?’askedMrsBantryshrewdly.
‘Asamatteroffact,MrsBantry,Iam.Averycuriouscase.Acasewherewebelievemurdertohavebeencommitted,butwithnopossiblechanceofeverprovingit.’
‘Poison,Isuppose,’breathedJane.‘Somethinguntraceable.’
DrLloydmovedrestlesslyandSirHenryshookhishead.
‘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,’saidMrsBantry,‘thatyou’dbettertellusyourlongstory.’
‘Ineedn’tmakeitsoverylongafterall,’saidSirHenry.‘Icanatanyratecondensethebeginning.ThatdealswithaGermansecretsociety—theSchwartzeHand—somethingafterthelinesoftheCamorraorwhatismostpeople’sideaoftheCamorra.Aschemeofblackmailandterrorization.ThethingstartedquitesuddenlyaftertheWar,andspreadtoanamazingextent.Numberlesspeoplewerevictimizedbyit.Theauthoritieswerenotsuccessfulincopingwithit,foritssecretswerejealouslyguarded,anditwasalmostimpossibletofindanyonewhocouldbeinducedtobetraythem.
‘NothingmuchwaseverknownaboutitinEngland,butinGermanyitwashavingamostparalysingeffect.Itwasfinallybrokenupanddispersedthroughtheeffortsofoneman,aDrRosen,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,’saidDrLloydsoftly.
‘Exactly.Thefoursuspects.Thereisnotmuchmoretotell.LifewentonpeacefullyatKing’sGnatonforfivemonthsandthentheblowfell.DrRosenfelldownthestairsonemorningandwasfounddeadabouthalfanhourlater.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?’askedMrsBantryinabewilderedtone.‘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,threelettersforDrRosen,onewithaforeignstampandtwolettersforMrTempleton,onealsowithaforeignstamp.’
SirHenrypausedandthentookasheafofdocumentsfromtheenvelope.
‘Itmayinterestyoutoseetheseforyourself.Theywerehandedmebythevariouspeopleconcerned,orcollectedfromthewaste-paperbasket.Ineedhardlysaythey’vebeentestedbyexpertsforinvisibleink,etc.Noexcitementofthatkindispossible.’
Everyonecrowdedroundtolook.ThecatalogueswererespectivelyfromanurserymanandfromaprominentLondonfurestablishment.ThetwobillsaddressedtoDrRosenwerealocaloneforseedsforthegardenandonefromaLondonstationeryfirm.Theletteraddressedtohimranasfollows:
MyDearRosen—JustbackfromDrHelmuthSpath’s.IsawEdgarJacksontheotherday.HeandAmosPerryhavejustcomebackfromTsingtau.InallHonestyIcan’tsayIenvythemthetrip.Letmehavenewsofyousoon.AsIsaidbefore:Bewareofacertainperson.YouknowwhoImean,thoughyoudon’tagree.—Yours,Georgine.
‘MrTempleton’smailconsistedofthisbill,whichasyousee,isanaccountrenderedfromhistailor,andaletterfromafriendinGermany,’wentonSirHenry.‘Thelatter,unfortunately,hetoreupwhilstoutonhiswalk.FinallywehavetheletterreceivedbyGertrud.’
DearMrsSwartz,—We’rehopingashowyoubeabletocomethesocialonfridayevening,thevicarsayshashehopesyouwill—oneandallbeingwelcome.Theresipyforthehamwasverygood,andIthanksyouforit.HopingasthisfindsyouwellandthatweshallseeyoufridayIremain.—Yoursfaithfully,EmmaGreene.
DrLloydsmiledalittleoverthisandsodidMrsBantry.
‘Ithinkthelastlettercanbeputoutofcourt,’saidDrLloyd.
‘Ithoughtthesame,’saidSirHenry;‘butItooktheprecautionofverifyingthattherewasaMrsGreeneandaChurchSocial.Onecan’tbetoocareful,youknow.’
‘That’swhatourfriendMissMarplealwayssays,’saidDrLloyd,smiling.‘You’relostinadaydream,MissMarple.Whatareyouthinkingout?’
MissMarplegaveastart.
‘Sostupidofme,’shesaid.‘IwasjustwonderingwhythewordHonestyinDrRosen’sletterwasspeltwithacapitalH.’
MrsBantrypickeditup.
‘Soitis,’shesaid.‘Oh!’
‘Yes,dear,’saidMissMarple.‘Ithoughtyou’dnotice!’
‘There’sadefinitewarninginthatletter,’saidColonelBantry.‘That’sthefirstthingcaughtmyattention.Inoticemorethanyou’dthink.Yes,adefinitewarning—againstwhom?’
‘There’sratheracuriouspointaboutthatletter,’saidSirHenry.‘AccordingtoTempleton,DrRosenopenedtheletteratbreakfastandtosseditacrosstohimsayinghedidn’tknowwhothefellowwasfromAdam.’
‘Butitwasn’tafellow,’saidJaneHelier.‘Itwassigned“Georgina”.’
‘It’sdifficulttosaywhichitis,’saidDrLloyd.‘ItmightbeGeorgey;butitcertainlylooksmorelikeGeorgina.Onlyitstrikesmethatthewritingisaman’s.’
‘Youknow,that’sinteresting,’saidColonelBantry.‘Histossingitacrossthetablelikethatandpretendingheknewnothingaboutit.Wantedtowatchsomebody’sface.Whoseface—thegirl’s?ortheman’s?’
‘Oreventhecook’s?’suggestedMrsBantry.‘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,lookingupfromhermurmuredconferencewithMrsBantry.‘Hesaidfoursuspects.SothatshowsthatheincludesMrTempleton.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,itisthisyoungMrTempletononlywhoissomuchonyourmind?’
‘Yes,inasense.Itshould,intheory,bethesameforallfour,butthatisnotactuallythecase.Dobbs,forinstance—suspicionmayattachtohiminmymind,butitwillnotactuallyaffecthiscareer.NobodyinthevillagehaseverhadanyideathatoldDrRosen’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—bothtoMrsBantryandmyself.Idon’tmeantheChurchSocialletter,buttheotherone.YoulivingsomuchinLondonandnotbeingagardener,SirHenry,wouldnothavebeenlikelytonotice.’
‘Eh?’saidSirHenry.‘Noticewhat?’
MrsBantryreachedoutahandandselectedacatalogue.Sheopeneditandreadaloudwithgusto:
‘DrHelmuthSpath.Purelilac,awonderfullyfineflower,carriedonexceptionallylongandstiffstem.Splendidforcuttingandgardendecoration.Anoveltyofstrikingbeauty.
‘EdgarJackson.Beautifullyshapedchrysanthemum-likeflowerofadistinctbrick-redcolour.
‘AmosPerry.Brilliantred,highlydecorative.
‘Tsingtau.Brilliantorange-red,showygardenplantandlastingcutflower.
‘Honesty—’
‘WithacapitalH,youremember,’murmuredMissMarple.
‘Honesty.Roseandwhiteshades,enormousperfectshapedflower.’
MrsBantryflungdownthecatalogue,andsaidwithimmenseexplosiveforce:
‘Dahlias!’
‘Andtheirinitiallettersspell“DEATH”,explainedMissMarple.
‘ButthelettercametoDrRosenhimself,’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;butshejustwentoutofherwaytofixyoursuspicionsdefinitelyonpoorMrTempleton.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.MrTempleton,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.IfeltmuchmoresorryforherthanforMrTempleton,whoisyoungandgood-lookingandevidentlyafavouritewiththeladies.Youwillwritetoher,won’tyou,SirHenry,andjusttellherthatherinnocenceisestablishedbeyonddoubt?Herdearoldmasterdead,andshenodoubtbroodingandfeelingherselfsuspectedof…Oh!Itwon’tbearthinkingabout!’
‘Iwillwrite,MissMarple,’saidSirHenry.Helookedathercuriously.‘Youknow,Ishallneverquiteunderstandyou.YouroutlookisalwaysadifferentonefromwhatIexpect.’
‘Myoutlook,Iamafraid,isaverypettyone,’saidMissMarplehumbly.‘IhardlyevergooutofStMaryMead.’
‘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,’saidMrsBantrywithasigh.‘It’sluckyonehasflowersandone’sfriends.’
‘Sheputsuslast,youobserve,’saidDrLloyd.
‘Amanusedtosendmepurpleorchidseverynighttothetheatre,’saidJanedreamily.
‘“Iawaityourfavours,”—that’swhatthatmeans,’saidMissMarplebrightly.
SirHenrygaveapeculiarsortofcoughandturnedhisheadaway.
MissMarplegaveasuddenexclamation.
‘I’veremembered.Dahliasmean“TreacheryandMisrepresentation.”’
‘Wonderful,’saidSirHenry.‘Absolutelywonderful.’
Andhesighed.
Chapter10AChristmasTragedy
‘Ihaveacomplainttomake,’saidSirHenryClithering.Hiseyestwinkledgentlyashelookedroundattheassembledcompany.ColonelBantry,hislegsstretchedout,wasfrowningatthemantelpieceasthoughitwereadelinquentsoldieronparade,hiswifewassurreptitiouslyglancingatacatalogueofbulbswhichhadcomebythelatepost,DrLloydwasgazingwithfrankadmirationatJaneHelier,andthatbeautifulyoungactressherselfwasthoughtfullyregardingherpinkpolishednails.Onlythatelderly,spinsterlady,MissMarple,wassittingboltupright,andherfadedblueeyesmetSirHenry’swithanansweringtwinkle.
‘Acomplaint?’shemurmured.
‘Averyseriouscomplaint.Weareacompanyofsix,threerepresentativesofeachsex,andIprotestonbehalfofthedowntroddenmales.Wehavehadthreestoriestoldtonight—andtoldbythethreemen!Iprotestthattheladieshavenotdonetheirfairshare.’
‘Oh!’saidMrsBantrywithindignation.‘I’msurewehave.We’velistenedwiththemostintelligentappreciation.We’vedisplayedthetruewomanlyattitude—notwishingtothrustourselvesinthelimelight!’
‘It’sanexcellentexcuse,’saidSirHenry;‘butitwon’tdo.Andthere’saverygoodprecedentintheArabianNights!So,forward,Scheherazade.’
‘Meaningme?’saidMrsBantry.‘ButIdon’tknowanythingtotell.I’veneverbeensurroundedbybloodormystery.’
‘Idon’tabsolutelyinsistuponblood,’saidSirHenry.‘ButI’msureoneofyouthreeladieshasgotapetmystery.Comenow,MissMarple—the“CuriousCoincidenceoftheCharwoman”orthe“MysteryoftheMothers’Meeting”.Don’tdisappointmeinStMaryMead.’
MissMarpleshookherhead.
‘Nothingthatwouldinterestyou,SirHenry.Wehaveourlittlemysteries,ofcourse—therewasthatgillofpickedshrimpsthatdisappearedsoincomprehensibly;butthatwouldn’tinterestyoubecauseitallturnedouttobesotrivial,thoughthrowingaconsiderablelightonhumannature.’
‘Youhavetaughtmetodoteonhumannature,’saidSirHenrysolemnly.
‘Whataboutyou,MissHelier?’askedColonelBantry.‘Youmusthavehadsomeinterestingexperiences.’
‘Yes,indeed,’saidDrLloyd.
‘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’thappeninStMaryMead.’
‘Thatdisappointsme,’saidSirHenry.‘ButIwillendeavourtobearup.Iknewweshouldnotrelyuponyouinvain.’
Hesettledhimselfintheattitudeofalistener.MissMarplegrewslightlypink.
‘IhopeIshallbeabletotellitproperly,’shesaidanxiously.‘IfearIamveryinclinedtobecomerambling.Onewandersfromthepoint—altogetherwithoutknowingthatoneisdoingso.Anditissohardtoremembereachfactinitsproperorder.YoumustallbearwithmeifItellmystorybadly.Ithappenedaverylongtimeagonow.
‘AsIsay,itwasnotconnectedwithStMaryMead.Asamatteroffact,ithadtodowithaHydro—’
‘Doyoumeanaseaplane?’askedJanewithwideeyes.
‘Youwouldn’tknow,dear,’saidMrsBantry,andexplained.Herhusbandaddedhisquota:
‘Beastlyplaces—absolutelybeastly!Gottogetupearlyanddrinkfilthy-tastingwater.Lotofoldwomensittingabout.Ill-naturedtittletattle.God,whenIthink—’
‘Now,Arthur,’saidMrsBantryplacidly.‘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.NowIrealizedassoonasIsawherthatshewasthesametypeasAnnieWebbandpoorMrsBruitt’sgirl.Iftheopportunityarosemineandthinewouldmeannothingtoher.SoIlethergoatthemonthandIgaveherawrittenreferencesayingshewashonestandsober,butprivatelyIwarnedoldMrsEdwardsagainsttakingher;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.MrSanderswasabig,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,’criedMrsBantry.‘Youdon’treallymean—’
‘Mydear,thesethingsareverycommon—verycommonindeed.Andgentlemenareespeciallytempted,beingsomuchthestronger.Soeasyifathinglookslikeanaccident.AsIsay,IknewatoncewiththeSanders.Itwasonatram.ItwasfullinsideandIhadhadtogoontop.WeallthreegotuptogetoffandMrSanderslosthisbalanceandfellrightagainsthiswife,sendingherheadfirstdownthestairs.Fortunatelytheconductorwasaverystrongyoungmanandcaughther.’
‘Butsurelythatmusthavebeenanaccident.’
‘Ofcourseitwasanaccident—nothingcouldhavelookedmoreaccidental!ButMrSandershadbeenintheMerchantService,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.MrsSanders(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,’saidDrLloyd.‘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.
‘Iwasinthedrawing-roomwithMissTrollopeandoldMrsCarpenter,andMrsCarpenterwasbeingpositivelyghoulish—relishingitall,youknow.
‘“Markmywords,”shesaid.“Thisisn’ttheend.Youknowthesaying?Nevertwowithoutthree.I’veprovedittruetimeandagain.There’llbeanotherdeath.Notadoubtofit.Andweshan’thavelongtowait.Nevertwowithoutthree.”
‘Asshesaidthelastwords,noddingherheadandclickingherknittingneedles,IjustchancedtolookupandtherewasMrSandersstandinginthedoorway.Justforaminutehewasoffguard,andIsawthelookinhisfaceasplainasplain.IshallbelievetillmydyingdaythatitwasthatghoulishMrsCarpenter’swordsthatputthewholething
‘Hecameforwardintotheroomsmilinginhisgenialway.
‘“AnyChristmasshoppingIcandoforyouladies?”heasked.“I’mgoingdowntoKestonpresently.”
‘Hestayedaminuteortwo,laughingandtalking,andthenwentout.AsItellyou,Iwastroubled,andIsaidstraightaway:
‘“Where’sMrsSanders?Doesanyoneknow?”
‘MrsTrollopesaidshe’dgoneouttosomefriendsofhers,theMortimers,toplaybridge,andthateasedmymindforthemoment.ButIwasstillveryworriedandmostuncertainastowhattodo.AbouthalfanhourlaterIwentuptomyroom.ImetDrColes,mydoctor,there,comingdownthestairsasIwasgoingup,andasIhappenedtowanttoconsulthimaboutmyrheumatism,Itookhimintomyroomwithmethenandthere.Hementionedtomethen(inconfidence,hesaid)aboutthedeathofthepoorgirlMary.Themanagerdidn’twantthenewstogetabout,hesaid,sowouldIkeepittomyself.OfcourseIdidn’ttellhimthatwe’dallbeendiscussingnothingelseforthelasthour—eversincethepoorgirlbreathedherlast.Thesethingsarealwaysknownatonce,andamanofhisexperienceshouldknowthatwellenough;butDrColesalwayswasasimpleunsuspiciousfellowwhobelievedwhathewantedtobelieveandthat’sjustwhatalarmedmeaminutelater.HesaidashewasleavingthatSandershadaskedhimtohavealookathiswife.Itseemedshe’dbeenseedyoflate—indigestion,etc.
‘Nowthatveryself-samedayGladysSandershadsaidtomethatshe’dgotawonderfuldigestionandwasthankfulforit.
‘Yousee?Allmysuspicionsofthatmancamebackahundredfold.Hewaspreparingtheway—forwhat?DrColesleftbeforeIcouldmakeupmymindwhethertospeaktohimornot—thoughreallyifIhadspokenIshouldn’thaveknownwhattosay.AsIcameoutofmyroom,themanhimself—Sanders—camedownthestairsfromthefloorabove.Hewasdressedtogooutandheaskedmeagainifhecoulddoanythingformeinthetown.ItwasallIcoulddotobeciviltotheman!Iwentstraightintotheloungeandorderedtea.Itwasjustonhalfpastfive,Iremember.
‘NowI’mveryanxioustoputclearlywhathappenednext.IwasstillintheloungeataquartertosevenwhenMrSanderscamein.Thereweretwogentlemenwithhimandallthreeofthemwereinclinedtobealittleonthelivelyside.MrSanderslefthistwofriendsandcamerightovertowhereIwassittingwithMissTrollope.HeexplainedthathewantedouradviceaboutaChristmaspresenthewasgivinghiswife.Itwasaneveningbag.
‘“Andyousee,ladies,”hesaid.“I’monlyaroughsailorman.WhatdoIknowaboutsuchthings?I’vehadthreesenttomeonapprovalandIwantanexpertopiniononthem.”
‘Wesaid,ofcourse,thatwewouldbedelightedtohelphim,andheaskedifwe’dmindcomingupstairs,ashiswifemightcomeinanyminuteifhebroughtthethingsdown.Sowewentupwithhim.Ishallneverforgetwhathappenednext—Icanfeelmylittlefingerstinglingnow.
‘MrSandersopenedthedoorofthebedroomandswitchedonthelight.Idon’tknowwhichofussawitfirst…
‘MrsSanderswaslyingonthefloor,facedownwards—dead.
‘Igottoherfirst.Ikneltdownandtookherhandandfeltforthepulse,butitwasuseless,thearmitselfwascoldandstiff.Justbyherheadwasastockingfilledwithsand—theweaponshehadbeenstruckdownwith.MissTrollope,sillycreature,wasmoaningandmoaningbythedoorandholdingherhead.Sandersgaveagreatcryof“Mywife,mywife,”andrushedtoher.Istoppedhimtouchingher.Yousee,Iwassureatthemomenthehaddoneit,andtheremighthavebeensomethingthathewantedtotakeawayorhide.
‘“Nothingmustbetouched,”Isaid.“Pullyourselftogether,MrSanders.MissTrollope,pleasegodownandfetchthemanager.”
‘Istayedthere,kneelingbythebody.Iwasn’tgoingtoleaveSandersalonewithit.AndyetIwasforcedtoadmitthatifthemanwasacting,hewasactingmarvellously.Helookeddazedandbewilderedandscaredoutofhiswits.
‘Themanagerwaswithusinnotime.Hemadeaquickinspectionoftheroomthenturnedusalloutandlockedthedoor,thekeyofwhichhetook.Thenhewentoffandtelephonedtothepolice.Itseemedapositiveagebeforetheycame(welearntafterwardsthatthelinewasoutoforder).Themanagerhadtosendamessengertothepolicestation,andtheHydroisrightoutofthetown,upontheedgeofthemoor;andMrsCarpentertriedusallveryseverely.Shewassopleasedatherprophecyof“Nevertwowithoutthree”comingtruesoquickly.Sanders,Ihear,wanderedoutintothegrounds,clutchinghisheadandgroaninganddisplayingeverysignofgrief.
‘However,thepolicecameatlast.TheywentupstairswiththemanagerandMrSanders.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?”
‘IexplainedthatIhadpreventedMrSandersfromdoingso,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’ttakeMrSandersinther?leofthebereavedwidowertooseriously.
‘Yousee,Iadmititfrankly.IwasabsolutelyundertheopinionofwhatIbelieveourneighbours,theFrench,calltheidéefixe.Iknewthatthatman,Sanders,intendedhiswifetodie.WhatIdidn’tallowforwasthatstrangeandfantasticthing,coincidence.MyviewsaboutMrSanderswere—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,thatMrSanderscouldnotpossiblyhavecommittedthecrime…’
AsurprisedgaspcamefromMrsBantry.MissMarpleturnedtoher.
‘Iknow,mydear,thatisn’twhatyouexpectedwhenIbeganthisstory.Itwasn’twhatIexpectedeither.Butfactsarefacts,andifoneisprovedtobewrong,onemustjustbehumbleaboutitandstartagain.ThatMrSanderswasamurdereratheartIknew—andnothingeveroccurredtoupsetthatfirmconvictionofmine.
‘Andnow,Iexpect,youwouldliketoheartheactualfactsthemselves.MrsSanders,asyouknow,spenttheafternoonplayingbridgewithsomefriends,theMortimers.Sheleftthemataboutaquarterpastsix.Fromherfriends’housetotheHydrowasaboutaquarterofanhour’swalk—lessifonehurried.Shemusthavecomeinthenaboutsix-thirty.Noonesawhercomein,soshemusthaveenteredbythesidedoorandhurriedstraightuptoherroom.Thereshechanged(thefawncoatandskirtsheworetothebridgepartywerehangingupinthecupboard)andwasevidentlypreparingtogooutagain,whentheblowfell.Quitepossibly,theysay,sheneverevenknewwhostruckher.Thesandbag,Iunderstand,isaveryefficientweapon.Thatlooksasthoughtheattackerswereconcealedintheroom,possiblyinoneofthebigwardrobecupboards—theoneshedidn’topen.
‘NowastothemovementsofMrSanders.Hewentout,asIhavesaid,ataboutfive-thirty—oralittleafter.Hedidsomeshoppingatacoupleofshopsandataboutsixo’clockheenteredtheGrandSpaHotelwhereheencounteredtwofriends—thesamewithwhomhereturnedtotheHydrolater.Theyplayedbilliardsand,Igather,hadagoodmanywhiskiesandsodastogether.Thesetwomen(HitchcockandSpender,theirnameswere)wereactuallywithhimthewholetimefromsixo’clockonwards.TheywalkedbacktotheHydrowithhimandheonlyleftthemtocomeacrosstomeandMissTrollope.That,asItoldyou,wasaboutaquartertoseven—atwhichtimehiswifemusthavebeenalreadydead.
‘ImusttellyouthatItalkedmyselftothesetwofriendsofhis.Ididnotlikethem.Theywereneitherpleasantnorgentlemanlymen,butIwasquitecertainofonething,thattheywerespeakingtheabsolutetruthwhentheysaidthatSandershadbeenthewholetimeintheircompany.
‘Therewasjustoneotherlittlepointthatcameup.ItseemsthatwhilebridgewasgoingonMrsSanderswascalledtothetelephone.AMrLittleworthwantedtospeaktoher.Sheseemedbothexcitedandpleasedaboutsomething—andincidentallymadeoneortwobadmistakes.Sheleftratherearlierthantheyhadexpectedhertodo.
‘MrSanderswasaskedwhetherheknewthenameofLittleworthasbeingoneofhiswife’sfriends,buthedeclaredhehadneverheardofanyoneofthatname.Andtomethatseemsborneoutbyhiswife’sattitude—shetoo,didnotseemtoknowthenameofLittleworth.Neverthelessshecamebackfromthetelephonesmilingandblushing,soitlooksasthoughwhoeveritwasdidnotgivehisrealname,andthatinitselfhasasuspiciousaspect,doesitnot?
‘Anyway,thatistheproblemthatwasleft.Theburglarstory,whichseemsunlikely—orthealternativetheorythatMrsSanderswaspreparingtogooutandmeetsomebody.Didthatsomebodycometoherroombymeansofthefireescape?Wasthereaquarrel?Ordidhetreacherouslyattackher?’
MissMarplestopped.
‘Well?’saidSirHenry.‘Whatistheanswer?’
‘Iwonderedifanyofyoucouldguess.’
‘I’mnevergoodatguessing,’saidMrsBantry.‘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.’
MrsBantrystared.
‘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.Itwasourtalkinthedrawing-roomthatputitintohishead.ThebodyofpoorMary,thehousemaid—whynotuseit?Remember,theSanders’roomwasupamongsttheservants’quarters.Mary’sroomwastwodoorsoff.Theundertakerswouldn’tcometillafterdark—hecountedonthat.Hecarriedthebodyalongthebalcony(itwasdarkatfive),dresseditinoneofhiswife’sdressesandherbigredcoat.Andthenhefoundthehatcupboardlocked!Therewasonlyonethingtobedone,hefetchedoneofthepoorgirl’sownhats.Noonewouldnotice.Heputthesandbagdownbesideher.Thenhewentofftoestablishhisalibi.
‘Hetelephonedtohiswife—callinghimselfMrLittleworth.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,’saidDrLloyd.‘Theriskshetook.Thepolicemighthavearrivedtoosoon.’
‘Yourememberthelinewasoutoforder,’saidMissMarple.‘Thatwasapieceofhiswork.Hecouldn’taffordtohavethepoliceonthespottoosoon.Whentheydidcome,theyspentsometimeinthemanager’sofficebeforegoinguptothebedroom.Thatwastheweakestpoint—thechancethatsomeonemightnoticethedifferencebetweenabodythathadbeendeadtwohoursandonethathadbeendeadjustoverhalfanhour;buthecountedonthefactthatthepeoplewhofirstdiscoveredthecrimewouldhavenoexpertknowledge.’
DrLloydnodded.
‘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.’
Chapter11TheHerbofDeath
‘Nowthen,MrsB.,’saidSirHenryClitheringencouragingly.
MrsBantry,hishostess,lookedathimincoldreproof.
‘I’vetoldyoubeforethatIwillnotbecalledMrsB.It’snotdignified.’
‘Scheherazade,then.’
‘AndevenlessamISche—what’shername!Inevercantellastoryproperly,askArthurifyoudon’tbelieveme.’
‘You’requitegoodatthefacts,Dolly,’saidColonelBantry,‘butpoorattheembroidery.’
‘That’sjustit,’saidMrsBantry.Sheflappedthebulbcatalogueshewasholdingonthetableinfrontofher.‘I’vebeenlisteningtoyouallandIdon’tknowhowyoudoit.“Hesaid,shesaid,youwondered,theythought,everyoneimplied”—well,Ijustcouldn’tandthereitis!AndbesidesIdon’tknowanythingtotellastoryabout.’
‘Wecan’tbelievethat,MrsBantry,’saidDrLloyd.Heshookhisgreyheadinmockingdisbelief.
OldMissMarplesaidinhergentlevoice:‘Surelydear—’
MrsBantrycontinuedobstinatelytoshakeherhead.
‘Youdon’tknowhowbanalmylifeis.Whatwiththeservantsandthedifficultiesofgettingscullerymaids,andjustgoingtotownforclothes,anddentists,andAscot(whichArthurhates)andthenthegarden—’
‘Ah!’saidDrLloyd.‘Thegarden.Weallknowwhereyourheartlies,MrsBantry.’
‘Itmustbenicetohaveagarden,’saidJaneHelier,thebeautifulyoungactress.‘Thatis,ifyouhadn’tgottodig,ortogetyourhandsmessedup.I’meversofondofflowers.’
‘Thegarden,’saidSirHenry.‘Can’twetakethatasastartingpoint?Come,MrsB.Thepoisonedbulb,thedeadlydaffodils,theherbofdeath!’
‘Nowit’soddyoursayingthat,’saidMrsBantry.‘You’vejustremindedme.Arthur,doyourememberthatbusinessatClodderhamCourt?Youknow.OldSirAmbroseBercy.Doyourememberwhatacourtlycharmingoldmanwethoughthim?’
‘Why,ofcourse.Yes,thatwasastrangebusiness.Goahead,Dolly.’
‘You’dbettertellit,dear.’
‘Nonsense.Goahead.Mustpaddleyourowncanoe.Ididmybitjustnow.’
MrsBantrydrewadeepbreath.Sheclaspedherhandsandherfaceregisteredcompletementalanguish.Shespokerapidlyandfluently.
‘Well,there’sreallynotmuchtotell.TheHerbofDeath—that’swhatputitintomyhead,thoughinmyownmindIcallitsageandonions.’
‘Sageandonions?’askedDrLloyd.
MrsBantrynodded.
‘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,’saidMrsBantry,‘that’sall.’
Everyonegasped.Thoughwarnedbeforehand,theyhadnotexpectedquitesuchbrevityasthis.
‘But,mydearlady,’remonstratedSirHenry,‘itcan’tbeall.Whatyouhaverelatedisatragicoccurrence,butnotinanysenseofthewordaproblem.’
‘Well,ofcoursethere’ssomemore,’saidMrsBantry.‘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,’saidMrsBantry.‘Shecriedagreatdealafterwardsandsaidtheleaveshadbeenpickedandbroughtintoherassage,andhowwasshetoknow?’
‘Notonewhothoughtforherself,’saidMissMarple.
‘Probablyanelderlywomanand,Idaresay,averygoodcook?’
‘Oh!excellent,’saidMrsBantry.
‘Yourturn,MissHelier,’saidSirHenry.
‘Oh!Youmean—toaskaquestion?’TherewasapausewhileJanepondered.Finallyshesaidhelplessly,‘Really—Idon’tknowwhattoask.’
HerbeautifuleyeslookedappealinglyatSirHenry.
‘Whynotdramatispersonae,MissHelier?’hesuggestedsmiling.
Janestilllookedpuzzled.
‘Charactersinorderoftheirappearance,’saidSirHenrygently.
‘Oh,yes,’saidJane.‘That’sagoodidea.’
MrsBantrybeganbrisklytotickpeopleoffonherfingers.
‘SirAmbrose—SylviaKeene(that’sthegirlwhodied)—afriendofherswhowasstayingthere,MaudWye,oneofthosedarkuglygirlswhomanagetomakeaneffortsomehow—Ineverknowhowtheydoit.ThentherewasaMrCurlewhohadcomedowntodiscussbookswithSirAmbrose—youknow,rarebooks—queeroldthingsinLatin—allmustyparchment.TherewasJerryLorimer—hewasakindofnextdoorneighbour.Hisplace,Fairlies,joinedSirAmbrose’sestate.AndtherewasMrsCarpenter,oneofthosemiddle-agedpussieswhoalwaysseemtomanagetodigthemselvesincomfortablysomewhere.ShewasbywayofbeingdamedecompagnietoSylvia,Isuppose.’
‘Ifitismyturn,’saidSirHenry,‘andIsupposeitis,asI’msittingnexttoMissHelier,Iwantagooddeal.Iwantashortverbalportrait,please,MrsBantry,ofalltheforegoing.’
‘Oh!’MrsBantryhesitated.
‘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,’saidMrsBantrydrily.‘Butshewasstupid—shereallyneversaidanythingworthlisteningto.’
‘OneofthemostgracefulcreaturesIeversaw,’saidColonelBantrywarmly.‘Seeherplayingtennis—charming,simplycharming.Andshewasfulloffun—mostamusinglittlething.Andsuchaprettywaywithher.Ibettheyoungfellowsallthoughtso.’
‘That’sjustwhereyou’rewrong,’saidMrsBantry.‘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,MrsBantry?’
‘Ididn’tmeanacat,youknow,’saidMrsBantry.‘It’squitedifferent.Justabigsoftwhitepurryperson.Alwaysverysweet.That’swhatAdelaideCarpenterwaslike.’
‘Whatsortofagedwoman?’
‘Oh!Ishouldsayfortyish.She’dbeentheresometime—eversinceSylviawaseleven,Ibelieve.Averytactfulperson.Oneofthosewidowsleftinunfortunatecircumstanceswithplentyofaristocraticrelations,butnoreadycash.Ididn’tlikehermyself—butthenIneverdolikepeoplewithverywhitelonghands.AndIdon’tlikepussies.’
‘MrCurle?’
‘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,’saidDrLloyd.‘Ishouldliketoknowwhatmedicalevidencewasgivenattheinquest—thatis,ifourhostessremembers,or,indeed,ifsheknows.’
‘Iknowroughly,’saidMrsBantry.‘Itwaspoisoningbydigitalin—isthatright?’
DrLloydnodded.
‘Theactiveprincipleofthefoxglove—digitalis—actsontheheart.Indeed,itisaveryvaluabledruginsomeformsofhearttrouble.Averycuriouscasealtogther.Iwouldneverhavebelievedthateatingapreparationoffoxgloveleavescouldpossiblyresultfatally.Theseideasofeatingpoisonousleavesandberriesareverymuchexaggerated.Veryfewpeoplerealizethatthevitalprinciple,oralkaloid,hastobeextractedwithmuchcareandpreparation.’
‘MrsMacArthursentsomespecialbulbsroundtoMrsToomietheotherday,’saidMissMarple.‘AndMrsToomie’scookmistookthemforonions,andalltheToomieswereveryillindeed.’
‘Buttheydidn’tdieofit,’saidDrLloyd.
‘No.Theydidn’tdieofit,’admittedMissMarple.
‘AgirlIknewdiedofptomainepoisoning,’saidJaneHelier.
‘Wemustgetonwithinvestigatingthecrime,’saidSirHenry.
‘Crime?’saidJane,startled.‘Ithoughtitwasanaccident.’
‘Ifitwereanaccident,’saidSirHenrygently,‘IdonotthinkMrsBantrywouldhavetoldusthisstory.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,’saidMrsBantry.‘Atleastthelastpartofitis.ItwasSylviaherselfwhotooktheleavestothekitchen.Itwaspartofherdailyjobtogatherthingslikesaladorherbs,bunchesofyoungcarrots—allthesortofthingsthatgardenersneverpickright.Theyhategivingyouanythingyoungandtender—theywaitforthemtobefinespecimens.SylviaandMrsCarpenterusedtoseetoalotofthesethingsthemselves.Andtherewasfoxgloveactuallygrowingallamongstthesageinonecorner,sothemistakewasquitenatural.’
‘ButdidSylviaactuallypickthemherself?’
‘That,nobodyeverknew.Itwasassumedso.’
‘Assumptions,’saidSirHenry,‘aredangerousthings.’
‘ButIdoknowthatMrsCarpenterdidn’tpickthem,’saidMrsBantry.‘Because,asithappened,shewaswalkingwithmeontheterracethatmorning.Wewentoutthereafterbreakfast.Itwasunusuallyniceandwarmforearlyspring.Sylviawentalonedownintothegarden,butlaterIsawherwalkingarm-in-armwithMaudWye.’
‘Sotheyweregreatfriends,werethey?’askedMissMarple.
‘Yes,’saidMrsBantry.Sheseemedasthoughabouttosaysomething,butdidnotdoso.
‘Hadshebeenstayingtherelong?’askedMissMarple.
‘Aboutafortnight,’saidMrsBantry.
Therewasanoteoftroubleinhervoice.
‘Youdidn’tlikeMissWye?’suggestedSirHenry.
‘Idid.That’sjustit.Idid.’
Thetroubleinhervoicehadgrowntodistress.
‘You’rekeepingsomethingback,MrsBantry,’saidSirHenryaccusingly.
‘Iwonderedjustnow,’saidMissMarple,‘butIdidn’tliketogoon.’
‘Whendidyouwonder?’
‘Whenyousaidthattheyoungpeoplewereengaged.Yousaidthatthatwaswhatmadeitsosad.But,ifyouknowwhatImean,yourvoicedidn’tsoundrightwhenyousaidit—notconvincing,youknow.’
‘Whatadreadfulpersonyouare,’saidMrsBantry.‘Youalwaysseemtoknow.Yes,Iwasthinkingofsomething.ButIdon’treallyknowwhetherIoughttosayitornot.’
‘Youmustsayit,’saidSirHenry.‘Whateveryourscruples,itmustn’tbekeptback.’
‘Well,itwasjustthis,’saidMrsBantry.‘Oneevening—infacttheveryeveningbeforethetragedy—Ihappenedtogooutontheterracebeforedinner.Thewindowinthedrawing-roomwasopen.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,’saidMrsBantry.‘Hedid.Sixmonthsafterwards.’
‘Oh!Scheherezade,Scheherezade,’saidSirHenry.‘Tothinkofthewayyoutoldusthisstoryatfirst!Barebonesindeed—andtothinkoftheamountoffleshwe’refindingonthemnow.’
‘Don’tspeaksoghoulishly,’saidMrsBantry.‘Anddon’tusethewordflesh.Vegetariansalwaysdo.Theysay,“Inevereatflesh”inawaythatputsyourightoffyourlittlebeefsteak.MrCurlewasavegetarian.Heusedtoeatsomepeculiarstuffthatlookedlikebranforbreakfast.Thoseelderlystoopingmenwithbeardsareoftenfaddy.Theyhavepatentkindsofunderwear,too.’
‘Whatonearth,Dolly,’saidherhusband,‘doyouknowaboutMrCurle’sunderwear?’
‘Nothing,’saidMrsBantrywithdignity.‘Iwasjustmakingaguess.’
‘I’llamendmyformerstatement,’saidSirHenry.‘I’llsayinsteadthatthedramatispersonaeinyourproblemareveryinteresting.I’mbeginningtoseethemall—eh,MissMarple?’
‘Humannatureisalwaysinteresting,SirHenry.Andit’scurioustoseehowcertaintypesalwaystendtoactinexactlythesameway.’
‘Twowomenandaman,’saidSirHenry.‘Theoldeternalhumantriangle.Isthatthebaseofourproblemhere?Iratherfancyitis.’
DrLloydclearedhisthroat.
‘I’vebeenthinking,’hesaidratherdiffidently.‘Doyousay,MrsBantry,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.
MrsBantryshookherhead.
‘Everyonewasthere.’
‘ExceptMrLorimer,Isuppose,mydear.Hewasn’tstayinginthehouse,washe?’
‘No;buthewasdiningtherethatevening,’saidMrsBantry.
‘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,’saidMrsBantryslowly.‘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.‘TheoneMrsBantrycallsthePussywoman.’
‘Shewasn’tmentionedinthewill,’saidMrsBantry.
‘MissMarple,you’renotlistening,’saidSirHenry.‘You’resomewherefaraway.’
‘IwasthinkingofoldMrBadger,thechemist,’saidMissMarple.‘Hehadaveryyounghousekeeper—youngenoughtobenotonlyhisdaughter,buthisgrand-daughter.Notawordtoanyone,andhisfamily,alotofnephewsandnieces,fullofexpectations.Andwhenhedied,wouldyoubelieveit,he’dbeensecretlymarriedtoherfortwoyears?OfcourseMrBadgerwasachemist,andaveryrude,commonoldmanaswell,andSirAmbroseBercywasaverycourtlygentleman,soMrsBantrysays,butforallthathumannatureismuchthesameeverywhere.’
Therewasapause.SirHenrylookedveryhardatMissMarplewholookedbackathimwithgentlyquizzicalblueeyes.JaneHelierbrokethesilence.
‘WasthisMrsCarpentergood-looking?’sheasked.
‘Yes,inaveryquietway.Nothingstartling.’
‘Shehadaverysympatheticvoice,’saidColonelBantry.
‘Purring—that’swhatIcallit,’saidMrsBantry.‘Purring!’
‘You’llbecalledacatyourselfoneofthesedays,Dolly.’
‘Ilikebeingacatinmyhomecircle,’saidMrsBantry.‘Idon’tmuchlikewomenanyway,andyouknowit.Ilikemenandflowers.’
‘Excellenttaste,’saidSirHenry.‘Especiallyinputtingmenfirst.’
‘Thatwastact,’saidMrsBantry.‘Well,now,whataboutmylittleproblem?I’vebeenquitefair,Ithink.Arthur,don’tyouthinkI’vebeenfair?’
‘Yes,mydear.Idon’tthinkthere’llbeanyinquiryintotherunningbythestewardsoftheJockeyClub.’
‘Firstboy,’saidMrsBantry,pointingafingeratSirHenry.
‘I’mgoingtobelong-winded.Because,yousee,Ihaven’treallygotanyfeelingofcertaintyaboutthematter.First,SirAmbrose.Well,hewouldn’ttakesuchanoriginalmethodofcommittingsuicide—andontheotherhandhecertainlyhadnothingtogainbythedeathofhisward.ExitSirAmbrose.MrCurle.Nomotivefordeathofgirl.IfSirAmbrosewasintendedvictim,hemightpossiblyhavepurloinedararemanuscriptortwothatnooneelsewouldmiss.Verythinandmostunlikely.SoIthink,thatinspiteofMrsBantry’ssuspicionsastohisunderclothing,MrCurleiscleared.MissWye.MotivefordeathofSirAmbrose—none.MotivefordeathofSylviaprettystrong.ShewantedSylvia’syoungman,andwantedhimratherbadly—fromMrsBantry’saccount.ShewaswithSylviathatmorninginthegarden,sohadopportunitytopickleaves.No,wecan’tdismissMissWyesoeasily.YoungLorimer.He’sgotamotiveineithercase.Ifhegetsridofhissweetheart,hecanmarrytheothergirl.Stillitseemsabitdrastictokillher—what’sabrokenengagementthesedays?IfSirAmbrosedies,hewillmarryarichgirlinsteadofapoorone.Thatmightbeimportantornot—dependsonhisfinancialposition.IfIfindthathisestatewasheavilymortgagedandthatMrsBantryhasdeliberatelywithheldthatfactfromus,Ishallclaimafoul.NowMrsCarpenter.Youknow,IhavesuspicionsofMrsCarpenter.Thosewhitehands,foronething,andherexcellentalibiatthetimetheherbswerepicked—Ialwaysdistrustalibis.AndI’vegotanotherreasonforsuspectingherwhichIwillkeeptomyself.Still,onthewhole,ifI’vegottoplump,IshallplumpforMissMaudeWye,becausethere’smoreevidenceagainstherthananyoneelse.’
‘Nextboy,’saidMrsBantry,andpointedatDrLloyd.
‘Ithinkyou’rewrong,Clithering,instickingtothetheorythatthegirl’sdeathwasmeant.IamconvincedthatthemurdererintendedtodoawaywithSirAmbrose.Idon’tthinkthatyoungLorimerhadthenecessaryknowledge.IaminclinedtobelievethatMrsCarpenterwastheguiltyparty.Shehadbeenalongtimewiththefamily,knewallaboutthestateofSirAmbrose’shealth,andcouldeasilyarrangeforthisgirlSylvia(who,yousaidyourself,wasratherstupid)topicktherightleaves.Motive,Iconfess,Idon’tsee;butIhazardtheguessthatSirAmbrosehadatonetimemadeawillinwhichshewasmentioned.That’sthebestIcando.’
MrsBantry’spointingfingerwentontoJaneHelier.
‘Idon’tknowwhattosay,’saidJane,‘exceptthis:Whyshouldn’tthegirlherselfhavedoneit?Shetooktheleavesintothekitchenafterall.AndyousaySirAmbrosehadbeenstickingoutagainsthermarriage.Ifhedied,she’dgetthemoneyandbeabletomarryatonce.She’dknowjustasmuchaboutSirAmbrose’shealthasMrsCarpenterwould.’
MrsBantry’sfingercameslowlyroundtoMissMarple.
‘Nowthen,SchoolMarm,’shesaid.
‘SirHenryhasputitallveryclearly—veryclearlyindeed,’saidMissMarple.‘AndDrLloydwassorightinwhathesaid.Betweenthemtheyseemtohavemadethingssoveryclear.OnlyIdon’tthinkDrLloydquiterealizedoneaspectofwhathesaid.Yousee,notbeingSirAmbrose’smedicaladviser,hecouldn’tknowjustwhatkindofhearttroubleSirAmbrosehad,couldhe?’
‘Idon’tquiteseewhatyoumean,MissMarple,’saidDrLloyd.
‘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,asDrLloydsaid,thesethingsaresouncertain.Noonewouldbelikelytoaskwhetherthegirlhadactuallyhadafataldoseofinfusionofdigitalisorsomethingofthatkind.Hemighthaveputitinacocktail,orinhercoffeeorevenmadeherdrinkitquitesimplyasatonic.’
‘YoumeanSirAmbrosepoisonedhisward,thecharminggirlwhomheloved?’
‘That’sjustit,’saidMissMarple.‘LikeMrBadgerandhisyounghousekeeper.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.’
‘MrsBantry,’saidSirHenry.‘Isthisso?’
MrsBantrynodded.
‘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.’
Chapter12TheAffairattheBungalow
‘I’vethoughtofsomething,’saidJaneHelier.
Herbeautifulfacewaslitupwiththeconfidentsmileofachildexpectingapprobation.ItwasasmilesuchasmovedaudiencesnightlyinLondon,andwhichhadmadethefortunesofphotographers
‘Ithappened,’shewentoncarefully,‘toafriendofmine.’
Everyonemadeencouragingbutslightlyhypocriticalnoises.ColonelBantry,MrsBantry,SirHenryClithering,DrLloydandoldMissMarplewereoneandallconvincedthatJane’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,’saidDrLloydencouragingly.‘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’dneverevenheardofthisMrFaulkener.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!’Janebrokeoffopen-mouthed.
‘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,anditseemsthatMrFaulkenergotaletterfromme—onlyitturnedoutnottobereallyfromme—youunderstand—’
Shepausedanxiously,andtheyassuredherthattheyunderstood.
‘SayingthatI’dreadtheplay,andlikeditverymuchandwouldhecomedownandtalkitoverwithme.Anditgavetheaddress—TheBungalow,Riverbury.SoMrFaulkenerwasfrightfullypleasedandhecamedownandarrivedatthisplace—TheBungalow.Aparlourmaidopenedthedoor,andheaskedforMissHelier,andshesaidMissHelierwasinandexpectinghimandshowedhimintothedrawing-room,andthereawomancametohim.Andheacceptedherasmeasamatterofcourse—whichseemsqueerbecauseafterallhehadseenmeactandmyphotographsareverywellknown,aren’tthey?’
‘OverthelengthandbreadthofEngland,’saidMrsBantrypromptly.‘Butthere’softenalotofdifferencebetweenaphotographanditsoriginal,mydearJane.Andthere’sagreatdealofdifferencebetweenbehindthefootlightsandoffthestage.It’snoteveryactresswhostandsthetestaswellasyoudo,remember.’
‘Well,’saidJaneslightlymollified,‘thatmaybeso.Anyway,hedescribedthiswomanastallandfairwithbigblueeyesandverygood-looking,soIsupposeitmusthavebeennearenough.Hecertainlyhadnosuspicions.Shesatdownandbegantalkingabouthisplayandsaidshewasanxioustodoit.WhilsttheyweretalkingcocktailswerebroughtinandMrFaulkenerhadoneasamatterofcourse.Well—that’sallheremembers—havingthiscocktail.Whenhewokeup,orcametohimself,orwhateveryoucallit—hewaslyingoutintheroad,bythehedge,ofcourse,sothattherewouldbenodangerofhisbeingrunover.Hefeltveryqueerandshaky—somuchsothathejustgotupandstaggeredalongtheroadnotquiteknowingwherehewasgoing.Hesaidifhe’dhadhissenseabouthimhe’dhavegonebacktoTheBungalowandtriedtofindoutwhathadhappened.Buthefeltjuststupidandmazedandwalkedalongwithoutquiteknowingwhathewasdoing.Hewasjustmoreorlesscomingtohimselfwhenthepolicearrestedhim.’
‘Whydidthepolicearresthim?’askedDrLloyd.
‘Oh!didn’tItellyou?’saidJaneopeninghereyesverywide.‘HowverystupidIam.Theburglary.’
‘Youmentionedaburglary—butyoudidn’tsaywhereorwhatorwhy,’saidMrsBantry.
‘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,youseethiswasasortofweek-endcottageforSirHerman—didyousayHerman?—andthelady.And,ofcourse,hiswifeknewnothingaboutit.’
‘Whichissooftenthecase,’saidSirHenry.
‘Andhe’dgiventhisactresswomanagooddealofjewelleryincludingsomeveryfineemeralds.’
‘Ah!’saidDrLloyd.‘Nowwe’regettingatit.’
‘Thisjewellerywasatthebungalow,justlockedupinajewelcase.Thepolicesaiditwasverycareless—anyonemighthavetakenit.’
‘Yousee,Dolly,’saidColonelBantry.‘WhatdoIalwaystellyou?’
‘Well,inmyexperience,’saidMrsBantry,‘it’salwaysthepeoplewhoaresodreadfullycarefulwholosethings.Idon’tlockmineupinajewelcase—Ikeepitinadrawerloose,undermystockings.Idaresayif—what’shername?—MaryKerrhaddonethesame,itwouldneverhavebeenstolen.’
‘Itwould,’saidJane,‘becauseallthedrawerswereburstopen,andthecontentsstrewnabout.’
‘Thentheyweren’treallylookingforjewels,’saidMrsBantry.‘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,’saidDrLloyd.‘DidMrFaulkenerknowthisMissKerr?’
‘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’tquiteseewhereMrFaulkenercomesin.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.’
‘WhathappenedtoMrLeslieFaulkener?’
‘Hewasreleasedintheend.Thepolicesaidtheyhadn’treallygotenoughagainsthim.Don’tyouthinkthewholethingwasratherodd?’
‘Distinctlyodd.Thefirstquestioniswhosestorytobelieve?Intellingit,MissHelier,InoticedthatyouinclinetowardsbelievingMrFaulkener.Haveyouanyreasonfordoingsobeyondyourowninstinctinthematter?’
‘No-no,’saidJaneunwillingly.‘IsupposeIhaven’t.Buthewassoverynice,andsoapologeticforhavingmistakenanyoneelseforme,thatIfeelsurehemusthavebeentellingthetruth.’
‘Isee,’saidSirHenrysmiling.‘Butyoumustadmitthathecouldhaveinventedthestoryquiteeasily.Hecouldwritetheletterpurportingtobefromyouhimself.Hecouldalsodopehimselfaftersuccessfullycommittingtheburglary.ButIconfessIdon’tseewherethepointofallthatwouldbe.Easiertoenterthehouse,helphimself,anddisappearquietly—unlessjustpossiblyhewasobservedbysomeoneintheneighbourhoodandknewhimselftohavebeenobserved.Thenhemighthastilyconcoctthisplanfordivertingsuspicionfromhimselfandaccountingforhispresenceintheneighbourhood.’
‘Washewelloff?’askedMissMarple.
‘Idon’tthinkso,’saidJane.‘No,Ibelievehewasratherhardup.’
‘Thewholethingseemscurious,’saidDrLloyd.‘Imustconfessthatifweaccepttheyoungman’sstoryastrue,itseemstomakethecaseverymuchmoredifficult.WhyshouldtheunknownwomanwhopretendedtobeMissHelierdragthisunknownmanintotheaffair?Whyshouldshestagesuchanelaboratecomedy?’
‘Tellme,Jane,’saidMrsBantry.‘DidyoungFaulkenerevercomefacetofacewithMaryKerratanystageoftheproceedings?’
‘Idon’tquiteknow,’saidJaneslowly,asshepuzzledherbrowsinremembrance.
‘Becauseifhedidn’tthecaseissolved!’saidMrsBantry.‘I’msureI’mright.Whatiseasierthantopretendyou’recalleduptotown?YoutelephonetoyourmaidfromPaddingtonorwhateverstationyouarriveat,andasshecomesuptotown,yougodownagain.Theyoungmancallsbyappointment,he’sdoped,yousetthestagefortheburglary,overdoingitasmuchaspossible.Youtelephonethepolice,giveadescriptionofyourscapegoat,andoffyougototownagain.Thenyouarrivehomebyalatertrainanddothesurprisedinnocent.’
‘Butwhyshouldshestealherownjewels,Dolly?’
‘Theyalwaysdo,’saidMrsBantry.‘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!DrLloyd,’criedMissMarpleexcitedly.‘Howcleverofyou.AndIneverthoughtofpoorMrsPebmarsh.’
Janestaredather.
‘MrsPebmarsh?WhoisMrsPebmarsh?’
‘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,andarounddozenfromMrsB.’
‘Itwasnotadozen,’saidMrsBantry.‘Theywerevariationsonamaintheme.AndhowoftenamItotellyouthatIwillnotbecalledMrsB?’
‘Soyouallgiveitup,’saidJanethoughtfully.‘That’sveryinteresting.’
Sheleanedbackinherchairandbegantopolishhernailsratherabsent-mindedly.
‘Well,’saidMrsBantry.‘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,’saidMrsBantry.‘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’soneofMrSomersetMaugham’s,isn’tit?Allhisareveryclever,Ithink.I’veseenthemnearlyall.’
‘You’rerevivingittogoontournextautumn,aren’tyou?’askedMrsBantry.
Janenodded.
‘Well,’saidMissMarplerising.‘Imustgohome.Suchlatehours!Butwe’vehadaveryentertainingevening.Mostunusuallyso.IthinkMissHelier’sstorywinstheprize.Don’tyouagree?’
‘I’msorryyou’reangrywithme,’saidJane.‘Aboutnotknowingtheend,Imean.IsupposeIshouldhavesaidsosooner.’
Hertonesoundedwistful.DrLloydrosegallantlytotheoccasion.
‘Mydearyounglady,whyshouldyou?Yougaveusaveryprettyproblemtosharpenourwitson.Iamonlysorrywecouldnoneofussolveitconvincingly.’
‘Speakforyourself,’saidMrsBantry.‘Ididsolveit.I’mconvincedIamright.’
‘Doyouknow,Ireallybelieveyouare,’saidJane.‘Whatyousaidsoundedsoprobable.’
‘Whichofhersevensolutionsdoyoureferto?’askedSirHenryteasingly.
DrLloydgallantlyassistedMissMarpletoputonhergoloshes.‘Justincase,’astheoldladyexplained.Thedoctorwastobeherescorttoherold-worldcottage.Wrappedinseveralwoollenshawls,MissMarplewishedeveryonegoodnightoncemore.ShecametoJaneHelierlastandleaningforward,shemurmuredsomethingintheactress’sear.Astartled‘Oh!’burstfromJane—soloudastocausetheotherstoturntheirheads.
Smilingandnodding,MissMarplemadeherexit,JaneHelierstaringafterher.
‘Areyoucomingtobed,Jane?’askedMrsBantry.‘What’sthematterwithyou?You’restaringasthoughyou’dseenaghost.’
WithadeepsighJanecametoherself,shedabeautifulandbewilderingsmileonthetwomenandfollowedherhostessupthestaircase.MrsBantrycameintothegirl’sroomwithher.
‘Yourfire’snearlyout,’saidMrsBantry,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?’
MrsBantrynodded,castinghermindbackrapidlytothefirstofJane’sunfortunatemarriages—toClaudAverbury,theactor.
‘Hemarriedher;andIcouldhavetoldhimhowitwouldbe.Clauddoesn’tknow,butshe’scarryingonwithSirJosephSalmon—week-endswithhimatthebungalowItoldyouabout.Iwantedhershownup—Iwouldlikeeveryonetoknowthesortofwomanshewas.Andyousee,withaburglary,everythingwouldbeboundtocomeout.’
‘Jane!’gaspedMrsBantry.‘Didyouengineerthisstoryyou’vebeentellingus?’
Janenodded.
‘That’swhyIchoseSmith.Iwearparlourmaid’skitinit,youknow.SoIshouldhaveithandy.Andwhentheysentformetothepolicestationit’stheeasiestthingintheworldtosayIwasrehearsingmypartwithmyunderstudyatthehotel.Really,ofcourse,wewouldbeatthebungalow.Ijusthavetoopenthedoorandbringinthecocktails,andNettatopretendtobeme.He’dneverseeheragain,ofcourse,sotherewouldbenofearofhisrecognizingher.AndIcanmakemyselflookquitedifferentasaparlourmaid;andbesides,onedoesn’tlookatparlourmaidsasthoughtheywerepeople.Weplannedtodraghimoutintotheroadafterwards,bagthejewelcase,telephonethepoliceandgetbacktothehotel.Ishouldn’tlikethepoor
MrsBantrysatdownandgroaned.
‘Oh!mypoorhead.Andallthetime—JaneHelier,youdeceitfulgirl!Tellingusthatstorythewayyoudid!’
‘Iamagoodactress,’saidJanecomplacently.‘Ialwayshavebeen,whateverpeoplechoosetosay.Ididn’tgivemyselfawayonce,didI?’
‘MissMarplewasright,’murmuredMrsBantry.‘Thepersonalelement.Oh,yes,thepersonalelement.Jane,mygoodchild,doyourealizethattheftistheft,andyoumighthavebeensenttoprison?’
‘Well,noneofyouguessed,’saidJane.‘ExceptMissMarple.’Theworriedexpressionreturnedtoherface.‘Dolly,doyoureallythinktherearemanylikeher?’
‘Frankly,Idon’t,’saidMrsBantry.
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,’saidMrsBantrywithdignity.‘Doyoumeanthisisafutureproject—notapastdeed?’
‘Iwasgoingtodoitthisautumn—inSeptember.Idon’tknowwhattodonow.’
‘AndJaneMarpleguessed—actuallyguessedthetruthandnevertoldus,’saidMrsBantrywrathfully.
‘Ithinkthatwaswhyshesaidthat—aboutwomenstickingtogether.Shewouldn’tgivemeawaybeforethemen.Thatwasniceofher.Idon’tmindyourknowing,Dolly.’
‘Well,givetheideaup,Jane.Ibegofyou.’
‘IthinkIshall,’murmuredMissHelier.‘TheremightbeotherMissMarples…’
Chapter13DeathbyDrowningI
SirHenryClithering,Ex-CommissionerofScotlandYard,wasstayingwithhisfriendstheBantrysattheirplacenearthelittlevillageofStMaryMead.
OnSaturdaymorning,comingdowntobreakfastatthepleasantguestlyhouroften-fifteen,healmostcollidedwithhishostess,MrsBantry,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.
MissMarplewassittinginthedrawing-room—veryuprightasalways,agailycolouredmarketingbasketofforeignextractionbesideher.Hercheekswereratherpinkandsheseemedflustered.
‘SirHenry—Iamsoglad.Sofortunatetofindyou.Ijusthappenedtohearthatyouwerestayingdownhere…Idohopeyouwillforgiveme…’
‘Thisisagreatpleasure,’saidSirHenry,takingherhand.‘I’mafraidMrsBantry’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.
‘IfIweretotellyouthatIknowbecauseofamancalledPeasegoodleavingturnipsinsteadofcarrotswhenhecameroundwithacartandsoldvegetablestomynieceseveralyearsago—’
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.’
II
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’llmeetyouatthebridgeateight-thirty.—R.S.”Well,itwasnearasmightbetoeight-thirty—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-fangledarchitectwasnotlikelytobepopularintheconservativevillageofStMaryMead.
‘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.Hewasabigburlymanofmiddleagewithashiftyeyeandatruculentjaw.
‘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.’
‘YourdaughterdistinctlytoldyouthatMrSandfordwasresponsibleforhercondition?’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,MrSandford,thatyourefusetomakeastatementastowhereyouwerelastnightateight-thirty?’
‘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,MrSandford.’
‘Shewas—’Ittookhimaminuteortwototakeinallthehorrorofit.‘MyGod!Then—’
Hedroppedintoachair.
ColonelMelchettmadeamovetodepart.
‘Youunderstand,Sandford,’hesaid.‘Youareonnoaccounttoleavethishouse.’
Thethreemenlefttogether.TheInspectorandtheChiefConstableexchangedglances.
‘That’senough,Ithink,sir,’saidtheInspector.
‘Yes.Getawarrantmadeoutandarresthim.’
‘Excuseme,’saidSirHenry,‘I’veforgottenmygloves.’
Here-enteredthehouserapidly.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.HelodgeswithMrsBartlett—verydecentsoul—awidow,shetakesinabitofwashing.’
Thelittlecottagetowhichtheybenttheirfootstepswasspotlesslycleanandneat.Abigstoutwomanofmiddleageopenedthedoortothem.Shehadapleasantfaceandblueeyes.
‘Goodmorning,MrsBartlett,’saidtheInspector.‘IsJoeEllishere?’
‘Camebacknottenminutesago,’saidMrsBartlett.‘Stepinside,willyou,please,sirs.’
Wipingherhandsonherapronsheledthemintoatinyfrontparlourwithstuffedbirds,chinadogs,asofaandseveraluselesspiecesoffurniture.
Shehurriedlyarrangedseatsforthem,pickedupawhatnotbodilytomakefurtherroomandwentoutcalling:
‘Joe,there’sthreegentlemenwanttoseeyou.’
Avoicefromthebackkitchenreplied:
‘I’llbetherewhenI’vecleanedmyself.’
MrsBartlettsmiled.
‘Comein,MrsBartlett,’saidColonelMelchett.‘Sitdown.’
‘Oh,no,sir,Icouldn’tthinkofit.’
MrsBartlettwasshockedattheidea.
‘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?’
MrsBartlettsighed.
‘Itmademetired,itdid.Himworshippingthegroundshetrodonandhernotcaringasnapofthefingersforhim.’
‘WheredoesJoespendhisevenings,MrsBartlett?’
‘Here,sir,usually.Hedoessomeoddpieceofworkintheevenings,sometimes,andhe’stryingtolearnbook-keepingbycorrespondence.’
‘Ah!really.Washeinyesterdayevening?’
‘Yes,sir.’
‘You’resure,MrsBartlett?’saidSirHenrysharply.
Sheturnedtohim.
‘Quitesure,sir.’
‘Hedidn’tgoout,forinstance,somewhereabouteighttoeight-thirty?’
‘Oh,no.’MrsBarlettlaughed.‘Hewasfixingthekitchendresserformenearlyalltheevening,andIwashelpinghim.’
SirHenrylookedathersmilingassuredfaceandfelthisfirstpangofdoubt.
AmomentlaterEllishimselfenteredtheroom.
Hewasatallbroad-shoulderedyoungman,verygood-lookinginarusticway.Hehadshy,blueeyesandagood-temperedsmile.Altogetheranamiableyounggiant.
Melchettopenedtheconversation.MrsBartlettwithdrewtothekitchen.
‘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,lastnightateight-thirty?’
WasitSirHenry’sfancy,orwastherereallyashadeofconstraintintheready—almosttooready—reply.
‘Iwashere.FixingupacontraptioninthekitchenforMrsB.Youaskher.She’lltellyou.’
‘Hewastooquickwiththat,’thoughtSirHenry.‘He’saslow-thinkingman.ThatpoppedoutsopatthatIsuspecthe’dgotitreadybeforehand.’
Thenhetoldhimselfthatitwasimagination.Hewasimaginingthings—yes,evenimagininganapprehensiveglintinthoseblueeyes.
Afewmorequestionsandanswersandtheyleft.SirHenrymadeanexcusetogotothekitchen.MrsBartlettwasbusyatthestove.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.
MrsBartlett’slaughrangout.
‘Oh,no,sir.I’venochildren—more’sthepity.That’swhatItakethelaundryon,sir.’
‘Oh!Isee—’
Hepausedthensaidonanimpulse:
‘MrsBartlett.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.MrsBartletthadactuallybeentherewatchinghim.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.MrSandford,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’ttelliftheyweregoingorcomingandMrGiles’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-styledrawing-room.
‘I’vecometoreportprogress,’saidSirHenry.‘I’mafraidthatfromourpointofviewthingsaren’tgoingwell.TheyaregoingtoarrestSandford.AndImustsayIthinktheyarejustified.’
‘Youhavefoundnothingin—whatshallIsay—supportofmytheory,then?’Shelookedperplexed—anxious.‘PerhapsIhavebeenwrong—quitewrong.Youhavesuchwideexperience—youwouldsurelydetectitifitwereso.’
‘Foronething,’saidSirHenry,‘Icanhardlybelieveit.Andforanotherweareupagainstanunbreakablealibi.JoeElliswasfixingshelvesinthekitchenalltheeveningandMrsBartlettwaswatchinghimdoit.’
MissMarpleleanedforward,takinginaquickbreath.
‘Butthatcan’tbeso,’shesaid.‘ItwasFridaynight.’
‘Fridaynight?’
‘Yes—Fridaynight.OnFridayeveningsMrsBartletttakesthelaundryshehasdoneroundtothedifferentpeople.’
SirHenryleanedbackinhischair.HerememberedtheboyJimmy’sstoryofthewhistlingmanand—yes—itwouldallfitin.
Herose,takingMissMarplewarmlybythehand.
‘IthinkIseemyway,’hesaid.‘AtleastIcantry…’
FiveminuteslaterhewasbackatMrsBartlett’scottageandfacingJoeEllisinthelittleparlouramongthechinadogs.
‘Youliedtous,Ellis,aboutlastnight,’hesaidcrisply.‘Youwerenotinthekitchenherefixingthedresserbetweeneightandeight-thirty.YouwereseenwalkingalongthepathbytherivertowardsthebridgeafewminutesbeforeRoseEmmottwasmurdered.’
Themangasped.
‘Sheweren’tmurdered—sheweren’t.Ihadnaughttodowithit.Shethrewherselfin,shedid.Shewasdesperatelike.Iwouldn’thaveharmedahaironherhead,Iwouldn’t.’
‘Thenwhydidyoulieastowhereyouwere?’askedSirHenrykeenly.
Theman’seyesshiftedandlowereduncomfortably.
‘Iwasscared.MrsB.sawmearoundthereandwhenweheardjustafterwardswhathadhappened—well,shethoughtitmightlookbadforme.IfixedI’dsayIwasworkinghere,andsheagreedtobackmeup.She’sarareone,sheis.She’salwaysbeengoodtome.’
WithoutawordSirHenrylefttheroomandwalkedintothekitchen.MrsBartlettwaswashingupatthesink.
‘MrsBartlett,’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,MrsBartlett.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.
‘MrsBartlett,withwhomJoeEllislodgesat2MillCottages.’
MissMarplehadbeenrightagain.
E-BookExtras
TheMarples
EssaybyCharlesOsborne
TheMarples
TheMurderattheVicarage;TheThirteenProblems;TheBodyintheLibrary;TheMovingFinger;AMurderIsAnnounced;TheyDoItwithMirrors;APocketFullofRye;4.50fromPaddington;TheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSide;ACaribbeanMystery;AtBertram’sHotel;Nemesis;SleepingMurder;MissMarple’sFinalCases
1.TheMurderattheVicarage(1930)
ThemurderofColonelProtheroe—shotthroughthehead—isashocktoeveryoneinSt.MaryMead,thoughhardlyanunpleasantone.Noweventhevicar,whohaddeclaredthatkillingthedetestedProtheroewouldbe‘doingtheworldatlargeafavour,’isasuspect—theColonelhasbeendispatchedintheclergyman’sstudy,noless.ButtinySt.MaryMeadisoverpopulatedwithsuspects.ThereisofcoursethefaithlessMrsProtheroe;andthereisofcourseheryounglover—anartist,toboot.Perhapsmoresurprisingthantherevelationofthemurdereristhedetectivewhowillcrackthecase:‘awhitehairedoldladywithagentle,appealingmanner.’MissJaneMarplehasarrivedonthescene,andcrimeliterature’sprivatemen’sclubofgreatdetectiveswillneverbethesame.
SaturdayReviewofLiterature:‘Whenshereallyhitsherstride,asshedoeshere,AgathaChristieishardtosurpass.’
2.TheThirteenProblems(1932)
OversixTuesdayeveningsagroupgathersatMissMarple’shousetoponderunsolvedcrimes.Thecompanyisinclinedtoforgettheirelderlyhostessastheybecomemesmerizedbythesinistertalestheytelloneanother.ButitisalwaysMissMarple’squietgeniusthatnamesthecriminalorthemeansofthemisdeed.AsindeedistrueinsubsequentgatheringsatthecountryhomeofColonelandMrsBantry,whereanothersetofterriblewrongsisrelatedbytheassembledguests—andrighted,byMissMarple.
Thestories:‘TheTuesdayNightClub’;‘TheIdolHouseofAstarte’;‘IngotsofGold’;‘TheBloodstainedPavement’;‘MotivevOpportunity’;‘TheThumbMarkofStPeter’;‘TheBlueGeranium’;‘TheCompanion’;‘TheFourSuspects’;‘AChristmasTragedy’;‘TheHerbofDeath’;‘TheAffairattheBungalow’;‘DeathbyDrowning.’
DailyMirror:‘Theplotsaresogoodthatonemarvels…Mostofthemwouldhavemadeafull-lengththriller.’
3.TheBodyintheLibrary(1942)
Thevery-respectableColonelandMrsBantryhaveawakenedtodiscoverthebodyofayoungwomanintheirlibrary.Sheiswearingeveningdressandheavymake-up,whichisnowsmearedacrosshercoldcheeks.Butwhoisshe?Howdidshegetthere?Andwhatisherconnectionwithanotherdeadgirl,whosecharredremainsarelaterdiscoveredinanabandonedquarry?TheBantrysturntoMissMarpletosolvethemystery.
Ofnote:ManyoftheresidentsofSt.MaryMead,whoappearedinthefirstfull-lengthMissMarplemysterytwelveyearsearlier,TheMurderattheVicarage,returninTheBodyintheLibrary.MrsChristiewroteBodysimultaneouslywiththeTommyandTuppenceBeresfordspythrillerNorM?,alternatingbetweenthetwonovelstokeepherself,assheputit,‘freshattask.’
TheTimesLiterarySupplementwroteofthissecondMarplenovel:‘Itishardnottobeimpressed.’
4.TheMovingFinger(1943)
Lymstockisatownwithmorethanitsshareofshamefulsecrets—atownwhereevenasuddenoutbreakofanonymoushate-mailcausesonlyaminorstir.Butallofthatchangeswhenoneoftherecipients,MrsSymmington,appearstohavebeendriventosuicide.‘Ican’tgoon,’herfinalnotereads.OnlyMissMarplequestionsthecoroner’sverdict.Wasthistheworkofapoisonpen?Orofapoisoner?
Ofnote:TheMovingFingerwasafavouriteofitsauthor.FromAnAutobiography(1977):‘Ifindthat…Iamreallypleasedwith…TheMovingFinger.Itisagreattesttorereadwhatonehaswrittensomeseventeenoreighteenyearsbefore.One’sviewchanges.Somedonotstandthetestoftime,othersdo.’
TheTimes:‘BeyondalldoubtthepuzzleinTheMovingFingerisfitfortheexperts.’
5.AMurderIsAnnounced(1950)
Theinvitationspelleditoutquiteclearly:‘AmurderisannouncedandwilltakeplaceonFriday,October29th,atLittlePaddocks,at6:30p.m.’Everyoneintownexpectedasimplepartygame—asecret‘murderer’ischosen,thelightsgoout,the‘victim’falls,andtheplayersguess‘whodunit.’Amusing,indeed—untilarealcorpseisdiscovered.Agameasmurderousasthisrequiresthemostbrilliantplayerofall:JaneMarple.
RobertBarnard:‘AsgoodasAgathaChristieeverwrote.’
A.A.Milne:‘Establishesfirmlyherclaimtothethroneofdetection.Theplotisasingeniousasever…thedialoguebothwiseandwitty;whilethesuspenseismaintainedveryskillfully…’
TheNewYorkTimesBookReview:‘Asuper-smoothChristie…neatmurdersinanEnglishvillage…anassortmentofherfamousredherrings,allbeautifullymarinated.’
6.TheyDoItwithMirrors(1952)
AsenseofdangerpervadestheramblingVictorianmansioninwhichJaneMarple’sfriendCarrieLouiselives—andnotonlybecausethebuildingdoublesasarehabilitationcentreforcriminalyouths.Oneinmateattempts,andfails,toshootdeadtheadministrator.Butsimultaneously,inanotherpartofthebuilding,amysteriousvisitorislesslucky.MissMarplemustemployallhercunningtosolvetheriddleofthestranger’svisit,andhismurder—whileprotectingherfriendfromasimilarlydreadfulfate.
Guardian:‘Brilliant.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘NooneoneithersideoftheAtlanticdoesitbetter.’
7.APocketFullofRye(1953)
RexFortescue,kingofafinancialempire,wassippingteainhis‘countinghouse’whenhesufferedanagonisingandsuddendeath.Theonlycluetohismurder:‘loosegrain’foundinhispocket.Themurderseemswithoutrhymeorreason—untilshrewdJaneMarplerecallsthatdelightfulnurseryrhyme,‘SingaSongofSixpence.’Aplayfulhintindeedforamurderthatisanythingbutchild’splay.
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Ingenious.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘ThebestofthenovelsstarringMissMarple.’
8.4.50fromPaddington(1957)
Foraninstantthetwotrainsransidebyside.Inthatfrozenmoment,ElspethMcGillicuddystaredhelplesslyoutofhercarriagewindowasamantightenedhisgriparoundawoman’sthroat.Thebodycrumpled.Thentheothertraindrewaway.Butwho,apartfromMrsMcGillicuddy’sfriendJaneMarple,wouldtakeherstoryseriously?Afterall,therearenootherwitnesses,nosuspects,andnocase—forthereisnocorpse,andnooneismissing.MissMarpleasksherhighlyefficientandintelligentyoungfriendLucyEyelesbarrowtoinfiltratetheCrackenthorpefamily,whoseemtobeattheheartofthemystery,andhelpunmaskamurderer.
Ofnote:TheintroductionofLucyEyelesbarrowasaside-kicktoMissMarplewaslaudedbythecritics,butherworkwiththeolderdetectivewaslimitedtothisnovel.
9.TheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSide(1962)
ThequaintvillageofSt.MaryMeadhasbeenglamourizedbythepresenceofscreenqueenMarinaGregg,whohastakenupresidenceinpreparationforhercomeback.Butwhenalocalfanispoisoned,Marinafindsherselfstarringinareal-lifemystery—supportedwithscene-stealingaplombbyJaneMarple,whosuspectsthatthelethalcocktailwasintendedforsomeoneelse.Butwho?IfitwasmeantforMarina,thenwhy?Andbeforethefinalfade-out,whoelsefromSt.MaryMead’scastofseeminglyinnocentcharactersisgoingtobeeliminated?
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘Thepieces…dropintoplacewithasatisfyingclick.AgathaChristiedeservesherfame.’
10.ACaribbeanMystery(1964)
AsJaneMarplesatbaskinginthetropicalsunshineshefeltmildlydiscontentedwithlife.True,thewarmtheasedherrheumatism,buthereinparadisenothingeverhappened.Thenaquestionwasputtoherbyastranger:‘Wouldyouliketoseeapictureofamurderer?’Beforeshehasachancetoanswer,themanvanishes,onlytobefounddeadthenextday.Themysteriesabound:Whereisthepicture?Whyisthehotelierpronetonightmares?Whydoesn’tthemosttalked-aboutguest,areclusivemillionaire,everleavehisroom?AndwhyisMissMarpleherselffearfulforherlife?
Ofnote:ACaribbeanMysteryintroducesthewealthy(anddifficult)MrJasonRafiel,whowillcalluponMissMarpleforhelpinNemesis(1971)—afterhisdeath.
Observer:‘Liveliness…infectiouszest…asgoodasanythingMrsChristiehasdone.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Throwsoffthefalsecluesandmisleadingeventsasonlyamasteroftheartcando.’
11.AtBertram’sHotel(1965)
WhenJaneMarplecomesupfromthecountryforaholidayinLondon,shefindswhatshe’slookingforatBertram’s:arestoredLondonhotelwithtraditionaldecor,impeccableservice—andanunmistakableatmosphereofdangerbehindthehighlypolishedveneer.YetnotevenMissMarplecanforeseetheviolentchainofeventssetinmotionwhenaneccentricguestmakeshiswaytotheairportonthewrongday…
Ofnote:Bertram’swasinspiredbyBrown’sHotelinLondon,wheretheauthorwasafrequentvisitor.
SaturdayReviewofLiterature:‘Oneoftheauthor’sverybestproductions,withsplendidpace,brightlines.’
TheNewYorkTimes:‘Ajoytoreadfrombeginningtoend,especiallyinitsacutesensitivitytothecontrastsbetweenthiseraandthatofMissMarple’syouth.’
TheNewYorker:‘MrsChristie’spearlytalentfordealingwithallthewordsandpompsthatgowithmurderEnglish-styleshimmerssteadilyinthistaleofthenoisywoethatshatterstheextremelyexpensivepeaceofBertram’sfamouslyold-fashionedhotel.’
12.Nemesis(1971)
EventheunflappableMissMarpleisastoundedasshereadstheletteraddressedtoheroninstructionsfromtherecentlydeceasedtycoonMrJasonRafiel,whomshehadmetonholidayintheWestIndies(ACaribbeanMystery).Recognisinginheranaturalflairforjusticeandageniusforcrime-solving,MrRafielhasbequeathedtoMissMarplea￡20,000legacy—andalegacyofanentirelydifferentsort.ForhehasaskedMissMarpletoinvestigate…hisownmurder.Theonlyproblemis,MrRafielhasfailedtonameasuspectorsuspects.And,whoevertheyare,theywillcertainlybedeterminedtothwartMissMarple’sinquiries—nomatterwhatitwilltaketostopher.
Ofnote:NemesisisthelastJaneMarplemysterythatAgathaChristiewrote—thoughnotthelastMarplepublished.
BestSellers:‘Theoldcharmisstillthereandagooddealoftheoldmagicinplotting,too.’
TimesLiterarySupplement:‘MissMarpleisanoldladynow,knowingthatascentforevilisstill,intheeveningofherdays,herpeculiargift.’
13.SleepingMurder(1976)
SoonafterGwendaReedmovesintohernewhome,oddthingsstarttohappen.Despiteherbesteffortstomodernisethehouse,sheonlysucceedsindredgingupitspast.Worse,shefeelsanirrationalsenseofterroreverytimesheclimbsthestairs…Infear,GwendaturnstoJaneMarpletoexorciseherghosts.Betweenthem,theyaretosolvea‘perfect’crimecommittedmanyyearsbefore…
Ofnote:AgathaChristiewroteSleepingMurderduringWorldWarIIandhaditplacedinabankvaultforoverthirtyyears.
ChicagoTribune:‘AgathaChristiesavedthebestforlast.’
SundayExpress:‘Apuzzlethatistortuous,surprising,and…satisfying.’
14.MissMarple’sFinalCases(1979)
Despitethetitle,thestoriescollectedhererecountcasesfromthemiddleofMiss.Marple’scareer.Theyare:‘Sanctuary’;‘StrangeJest’;‘Tape-MeasureMurder’;‘TheCaseoftheCaretaker’;‘TheCaseofthePerfectMaid’;‘MissMarpleTellsaStory’;‘TheDressmaker’sDoll’;‘InaGlassDarkly’;‘Greenshaw’sFolly.’
TheRepublican(Springfield,Massachusetts):‘Whenitallbecomesclearasday,thereadercanonlysay,“Nowwhydidn’tIthinkofthat?”Butheneverdoes.MrsChristieatherbest.’
CharlesOsborneonTheThirteenProblems
AlternativeTitle:TheTuesdayClubMurders
MissMarple(1932)
Havingsuccessfullyintroducedheramateurdetective,MissJaneMarple,inTheMurderattheVicarage(1930),AgathaChristiewroteforamagazineaseriesofsixshortstoriesfeaturingMissMarple.Inthefirststory,‘TheTuesdayNightClub’,theoldladyisentertainingagroupoffriendsatherhouseinthevillageofStMaryMead.HerguestsarehernephewRaymondWest,thenovelist,andhisfiancé,anartistnamedJoyceLemprière;DrPender,theelderlyclergymanoftheparish(what,onewonders,hashappenedtotheRev.LeonardClement,thevicarinTheMurderattheVicarage?);MrPetherick,alocalsolicitor;andavisitortoStMaryMead,SirHenryClithering,whoisaretiredCommissionerofScotlandYard.
Thetalkturnstocrime,andJoyceLemprièresuggeststhattheyformaclub,tomeeteveryTuesdayevening.Eachweek,adifferentmemberofthegroupwillpropoundaproblem,somemysteryorotherofwhichtheyhavepersonalknowledge,whichtheotherswillbeinvitedtosolve.Inthefirststory,SirHenryisinvitedtostarttheballrolling.Ofcourse,MissMarpleistheonetoarriveatthecorrectsolutioneverytime,notbecauseshepossessesanybrilliantdeductivepowersbutbecause,assheputsit,‘humannatureismuchthesameeverywhere,and,ofcourse,onehasopportunitiesofobservingitatcloserquartersinavillage’.
Inasecondseriesofsixstories,MrsChristierepeatedtheformula,thesettingthistimebeingthecountryhouseofColonelandMrsBantry,nearStMaryMead,andtheassembledcompanyincludingSirHenryagain,thelocaldoctor,afamousactressand,ofcourse,MissMarple.Aseparate,singlestory,inwhichSirHenryvisitsStMaryMeadyetagain,tostaywithhisfriendstheBantrys,andfindshimselfdrawnbyMissMarpleintotheinvestigationofalocalcrime,wasaddedtotheearliertwelve,andthecollection,dedicatedtoLeonardandKatherineWoolley,withwhomAgathaChristiehadstayedintheMiddleEast,waspublishedinGreatBritainasTheThirteenProblemsandintheUnitedStatesasTheTuesdayClubMurders,thoughonlythefirstsixcasesappeartohavebeendiscussedatmeetingsoftheTuesdayClub.
Someofthestoriesareespeciallyingenious,andallareentertaining,thoughifmorethanoneortwoarereadatonesittingtheycanbecomemonotonous,fortheyareallverysedentarystorieswhoseactionisrecountedinretrospect.MissMarplesolvesmostofthemysterieswithoutrisingfromherchair,andalmostwithoutdroppingastitchinherknitting.Theexceptionisthefinalstory,‘DeathbyDrowning’,whichisalsooneofthefewoccasionswhenAgathaChristiestrayedintoworkingclassterritory.Usually,itisonlythecrimesofthemiddleandupperclasseswhichcommendthemselvestoherinvestigators
Forallherold-worldcharm,andthetwinklewhichisneverfarfromherchina-blueeyes,MissMarplecanbesterninheropinions.Talkingofamurdererwhomshehadbroughttojusticeandwhohadbeenhanged,sheremarksthatitwasagoodjobandthatshehadnopatiencewithmodernhumanitarianscruplesaboutcapitalpunishment.MissMarpleisspeakingnotonlyforherselfbutalsoforhercreator,formanyyearslaterMrsChristiewastowrite:
Icansuspendjudgmentonthosewhokill—butIthinktheyareevilforthecommunity;theybringinnothingexcepthate,andtakefromitalltheycan.Iamwillingtobelievethattheyaremadethatway,thattheyarebornwithadisability,forwhich,perhaps,oneshouldpitythem;buteventhen,Ithink,notsparethem—becauseyoucannotsparethemanymorethanyoucouldsparethemanwhostaggersoutfromaplague-strickenvillageintheMiddleAgestomixwithinnocentandhealthychildreninanearbyvillage.Theinnocentmustbeprotected;theymustbeabletoliveatpeaceandcharitywiththeirneighbours.Itfrightensmethatnobodyseemstocareabouttheinnocent.Whenyoureadaboutamurdercase,nobodyseemstobehorrifiedbythepicture,say,ofafragileoldwomaninasmallcigaretteshop,turningawaytogetapacketofcigarettesforayoungthug,andbeingattackedandbatteredtodeath.Nooneseemstocareaboutherterrorandherpain,andthefinalmercifulunconsciousness.Nobodyseemstogothroughtheagonyofthevictim—theyareonlyfullofpityfortheyoungkiller,becauseofhisyouth.Whyshouldtheynotexecutehim?Wehavetakenthelivesofwolves,inthiscountry;wedidn’ttrytoteachthewolftoliedownwiththelamb—Idoubtreallyifwecouldhave.Wehunteddownthewildboarinthemountainsbeforehecamedownandkilledthechildrenbythebrook.Thosewereourenemies—andwedestroyedthem.*
Imprisonmentforlife,MrsChristiegoesontosay,ismorecruelthanthecupofhemlockinancientGreece.Thebestanswereverfound,shesuspects,wastransportation:‘Avastlandofemptiness,peopledonlywithprimitivehumanbeings,wheremancouldliveinsimplersurroundings.’Well,yes,butofcoursethepriceonepaysforthatistheAustraliaoftoday!
FiveminorpointsaboutTheThirteenProblems,twoconcernedwithChristiecarelessnessandthreewithChristieparsimony:(i)inoneofthestories,‘phenomena’isusedasthoughitwereasingular,andnotthepluralof‘phenomenon’;(ii)inTheThirteenProblems,RaymondWest’sfiancéeiscalledJoycebut,inlaterChristiestories,aftertheyaremarried,sheisalwaysreferredtoasJoan;(iii)variationsontheplotofoneofthestories,‘TheBloodStainedPavement’,willbepresentedinthestory‘TriangleatRhodes’inMurderintheMews(1937)andinthenovel,EvilUndertheSun(1941);(iv)theplotofanotherstory,‘TheCompanion’,willbemadeuseofagaininthenovel,AMurderisAnnounced(1950);(v)anelementintheplotof‘TheHerbofDeath’willre-occurinPosternofFate(1973).
AgathaChristiealwaysconsideredthatMissMarplewasatherbestinthesolvingofshortproblems,whichdidnotinvolveherindoinganythingotherthansittingandthinking,andthattherealessenceofhercharacterwastobefoundinthestoriescollectedtogetherinTheThirteenProblems.
AboutCharlesOsborne
ThisessaywasadaptedfromCharlesOsborne’sTheLifeandCrimesofAgathaChristie:ABiographicalCompaniontotheWorksofAgathaChristie(1982,rev.1999).Mr.OsbornewasborninBrisbanein1927.Heisknowninternationallyasanauthorityonopera,andhaswrittenanumberofbooksonmusicalandliterarysubjects,amongthemTheCompleteOperasofVerdi(1969);WagnerandHisWorld(1977);andW.H.Auden:TheLifeofaPoet(1980).Anaddictofcrimefictionandtheworld’sleadingauthorityonAgathaChristie,CharlesOsborneadaptedtheChristieplaysBlackCoffee(Poirot);Spider’sWeb;andTheUnexpectedGuestintonovels.HelivesinLondon.
*AgathaChristie:op.cit.
AboutAgathaChristie
AgathaChristieisknownthroughouttheworldastheQueenofCrime.HerbookshavesoldoverabillioncopiesinEnglishandanotherbillionin100foreignlanguages.Sheisthemostwidelypublishedauthorofalltimeandinanylanguage,outsoldonlybytheBibleandShakespeare.MrsChristieistheauthorofeightycrimenovelsandshortstorycollections,nineteenplays,andsixnovelswrittenunderthenameofMaryWestmacott.
AgathaChristie’sfirstnovel,TheMysteriousAffairatStyles,waswrittentowardstheendofWorldWarI(duringwhichsheservedintheVoluntaryAidDetachments).InitshecreatedHerculePoirot,thelittleBelgianinvestigatorwhowasdestinedtobecomethemostpopulardetectiveincrimefictionsinceSherlockHolmes.Afterhavingbeenrejectedbyanumberofhouses,TheMysteriousAffairatStyleswaseventuallypublishedbyTheBodleyHeadin1920.
In1926,nowaveragingabookayear,AgathaChristiewrotehermasterpiece.TheMurderofRogerAckroydwasthefirstofherbookstobepublishedbyWilliamCollinsandmarkedthebeginningofanauthor-publisherrelationshipthatlastedforfiftyyearsandproducedoverseventybooks.TheMurderofRogerAckroydwasalsothefirstofAgathaChristie’sworkstobedramatised—asAlibi—andtohaveasuccessfulruninLondon’sWestEnd.TheMousetrap,hermostfamousplay,openedin1952andrunstothisdayatStMartin’sTheatreintheWestEnd;itisthelongest-runningplayinhistory.
AgathaChristiewasmadeaDamein1971.Shediedin1976,sincewhenanumberofherbookshavebeenpublished:thebestsellingnovelSleepingMurderappearedin1976,followedbyAnAutobiographyandtheshortstorycollectionsMissMarple’sFinalCases;ProblematPollensaBay;andWhiletheLightLasts.In1998,BlackCoffeewasthefirstofherplaystobenovelisedbyCharlesOsborne,MrsChristie’sbiographer.
TheAgathaChristieCollection
ChristieCrimeClassics
TheManintheBrownSuit
TheSecretofChimneys
TheSevenDialsMystery
TheMysteriousMrQuin
TheSittafordMystery
TheHoundofDeath
TheListerdaleMystery
WhyDidn’tTheyAskEvans?
ParkerPyneInvestigates
MurderIsEasy
AndThenThereWereNone
TowardsZero
DeathComesastheEnd
SparklingCyanide
CrookedHouse
TheyCametoBaghdad
DestinationUnknown
Spider’sWeb*
TheUnexpectedGuest*
OrdealbyInnocence
ThePaleHorse
EndlessNight
PassengerToFrankfurt
ProblematPollensaBay
WhiletheLightLasts
HerculePoirotInvestigates
TheMysteriousAffairatStyles
TheMurderontheLinks
PoirotInvestigates
TheMurderofRogerAckroyd
TheBigFour
TheMysteryoftheBlueTrain
BlackCoffee*
PerilatEndHouse
LordEdgwareDies
MurderontheOrientExpress
Three-ActTragedy
DeathintheClouds
TheABCMurders
MurderinMesopotamia
CardsontheTable
MurderintheMews
DumbWitness
DeathontheNile
AppointmentwithDeath
HerculePoirot’sChristmas
SadCypress
One,Two,BuckleMyShoe
EvilUndertheSun
FiveLittlePigs
TheHollow
TheLaboursofHercules
TakenattheFlood
MrsMcGinty’sDead
AftertheFuneral
HickoryDickoryDock
DeadMan’sFolly
CatAmongthePigeons
TheAdventureoftheChristmasPudding
TheClocks
ThirdGirl
Hallowe’enParty
ElephantsCanRemember
Poirot’sEarlyCases
Curtain:Poirot’sLastCase
MissMarpleMysteries
TheMurderattheVicarage
TheThirteenProblems
TheBodyintheLibrary
TheMovingFinger
AMurderIsAnnounced
TheyDoItwithMirrors
APocketFullofRye
4.50fromPaddington
TheMirrorCrack’dfromSidetoSide
ACaribbeanMystery
AtBertram’sHotel
Nemesis
SleepingMurder
MissMarple’sFinalCases
Tommy&Tuppence
TheSecretAdversary
PartnersinCrime
NorM?
BythePrickingofMyThumbs
PosternofFate
PublishedasMaryWestmacott
Giant’sBread
UnfinishedPortrait
AbsentintheSpring
TheRoseandtheYewTree
ADaughter’saDaughter
TheBurden
Memoirs
AnAutobiography
Come,TellMeHowYouLive
PlayCollections
TheMousetrapandSelectedPlays
WitnessfortheProsecutionandSelectedPlays
*novelisedbyCharlesOsborne
www.agathachristie.com
FormoreinformationaboutAgathaChristie,pleasevisittheofficialwebsite.
THETHIRTEENPROBLEMSbyAgathaChristie
Copyright?1932AgathaChristieLimited(aChorioncompany)
“EssaybyCharlesOsborne”excerptedfromTheLifeandCrimesofAgathaChristie.Copyright?1982,1999byCharlesOsborne.Reprintedwithpermission.
AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenon-exclusive,non-transferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-bookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverseengineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereinafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.
ePubeditioneditionpublishedJune2004ISBN9780061753916
Thise-bookwassetfromtheAgathaChristieSignatureEditionpublished2002byHarperCollinsPublishers,London.
1098765432
FirstpublishedinGreatBritainbyCollins1932
AboutthePublisher
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TableofContents
Cover
TitlePage
Dedication
Contents
AboutAgathaChristie
TheAgathaChristieCollection
E-BookExtras
Chapter1:TheTuesdayNightClub
Chapter2:TheIdolHouseofAstarte
Chapter3:IngotsofGold
Chapter4:TheBloodstainedPavement
Chapter5:MotivevOpportunity
Chapter6:TheThumbMarkofStPeter
Chapter7:TheBlueGeranium
Chapter8:TheCompanion
Chapter9:TheFourSuspects
Chapter10:AChristmasTragedy
Chapter11:TheHerbofDeath
Chapter12:TheAffairattheBungalow
Chapter13:DeathbyDrowning
TheMarples
CharlesOsborneonTheThirteenProblems
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