4_50 From Paddington - Agatha Christie [43]
Emma paused and then went on:
“That, of course, was only common sense and I quite agreed. But if this girl—woman—was really the Martine about whom Edmund had written to me, I felt that we must make her welcome. I wrote to the address she gave in her letters, inviting her to come down to Rutherford Hall and meet us. A few days later I received a telegram from London: Very sorry forced to return to France unexpectedly. Martine. There was no further letter or news of any kind.”
“All this took place—when?”
Emma frowned.
“It was shortly before Christmas. I know, because I wanted to suggest her spending Christmas with us—but my father would not hear of it—so I suggested she could come down the weekend after Christmas while the family would still be there. I think the wire saying she was returning to France came actually a few days before Christmas.”
“And you believe that this woman whose body was found in the sarcophagus might be this Martine?”
“No, of course I don’t. But when you said she was probably a foreigner—well, I couldn’t help wondering…if perhaps….”
Her voice died away.
Craddock spoke quickly and reassuringly.
“You did quite right to tell me about this. We’ll look into it. I should say there is probably little doubt that the woman who wrote to you actually did go back to France and is there now alive and well. On the other hand, there is a certain coincidence of dates, as you yourself have been clever enough to realize. As you heard at the inquest, the woman’s death according to the police surgeon’s evidence must have occurred about three to four weeks ago. Now don’t worry, Miss Crackenthorpe, just leave it to us.” He added casually, “You consulted Mr. Harold Crackenthorpe. What about your father and your other brothers?”
“I had to tell my father, of course. He got very worked up,” she smiled faintly. “He was convinced it was a put up thing to get money out of us. My father gets very excited about money. He believes, or pretends to believe, that he is a very poor man, and that he must save every penny he can. I believe elderly people do get obsessions of that kind sometimes. It’s not true, of course, he has a very large income and doesn’t actually spend a quarter of it—or used not to until these days of high income tax. Certainly he has a large amount of savings put by.” She paused and then went on. “I told my other two brothers also. Alfred seemed to consider it rather a joke, though he, too, thought it was almost certainly an imposture. Cedric just wasn’t interested—he’s inclined to be self-centred. Our idea was that the family would receive Martine, and that our lawyer, Mr. Wimborne, should also be asked to be present.”
“What did Mr. Wimborne think about the letter?”
“We hadn’t got as far as discussing the matter with him. We were on the point of doing so when Martine’s telegram arrived.”
“You have taken no further steps?”
“Yes. I wrote to the address in London with Please forward on the envelope, but I have had no reply of any kind.”
“Rather a curious business… Hm….”
He looked at her sharply.
“What do you yourself think about it?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“What were your reactions at the time? Did you think the letter was genuine—or did you agree with your father and brothers? What about your brother-in-law, by the way, what did he think?”
“Oh, Bryan thought that the letter was genuine.”
“And you?”
“I—wasn’t sure.”
“And what were your feelings about it—supposing that this girl really was your brother Edmund’s widow?”
Emma’s face softened.
“I was very fond of Edmund. He was my favourite brother. The letter seemed to me exactly the sort of letter that a girl like Martine would write under the circumstances. The course of events she described was entirely natural. I assumed that by the time