4_50 From Paddington - Agatha Christie [47]
“Perfect home conditions—with murder thrown in,” said Cedric.
“Cedric!” Harold’s voice was angry.
Miss Marple smiled up at Cedric.
“Do you know who you remind me of? Young Thomas Eade, our bank manager’s son. Always out to shock people. It didn’t do in banking circles, of course, so he went to the West Indies… He came home when his father died and inherited quite a lot of money. So nice for him. He was always better at spending money than making it.”
II
Lucy took Miss Marple home. On her way back a figure stepped out of the darkness and stood in the glare of the headlights just as she was about to turn into the back lane. He held up his hand and Lucy recognized Alfred Crackenthorpe.
“That’s better,” he observed, as he got in. “Brr, it’s cold! I fancied I’d like a nice bracing walk. I didn’t. Taken the old lady home all right?”
“Yes. She enjoyed herself very much.”
“One could see that. Funny what a taste old ladies have for any kind of society, however dull. And, really, nothing could be duller than Rutherford Hall. Two days here is about as much as I can stand. How do you manage to stick it out, Lucy? Don’t mind if I call you Lucy, do you?”
“Not at all. I don’t find it dull. Of course with me it’s not a permanency.”
“I’ve been watching you—you’re a smart girl, Lucy. Too smart to waste yourself cooking and cleaning.”
“Thank you, but I prefer cooking and cleaning to the office desk.”
“So would I. But there are other ways of living. You could be a freelance.”
“I am.”
“Not this way. I mean, working for yourself, pitting your wits against—”
“Against what?”
“The powers that be! All the silly pettifogging rules and regulations that hamper us all nowadays. The interesting thing is there’s always a way round them if you’re smart enough to find it. And you’re smart. Come now, does the idea appeal to you?”
“Possibly.”
Lucy manoeuvred the car into the stableyard.
“Not going to commit yourself?”
“I’d have to hear more.”
“Frankly, my dear girl, I could use you. You’ve got the sort of manner that’s invaluable—creates confidence.”
“Do you want me to help you sell gold bricks?”
“Nothing so risky. Just a little by-passing of the law—no more.” His hand slipped up her arm. “You’re a damned attractive girl, Lucy. I’d like you as a partner.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Meaning nothing doing? Think about it. Think of the fun. The pleasure you’d get out of outwitting all the sober-sides. The trouble is, one needs capital.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t got any.”
“Oh, it wasn’t a touch! I’ll be laying my hands on some before long. My revered Papa can’t live forever, mean old brute. When he pops off, I lay my hands on some real money. What about it, Lucy?”
“What are the terms?”
“Marriage if you fancy it. Women seem to, no matter how advanced and self-supporting they are. Besides, married women can’t be made to give evidence against their husbands.”
“Not so flattering!”
“Come off it, Lucy. Don’t you realize I’ve fallen for you?”
Rather to her surprise Lucy was aware of a queer fascination. There was a quality of charm about Alfred, perhaps due to sheer animal magnetism. She laughed and slipped from his encircling arm.
“This is no time for dalliance. There’s dinner to think about.”
“So there is, Lucy, and you’re a lovely cook. What’s for dinner?”
“Wait and see! You’re as bad as the boys!”
They entered the house and Lucy hurried to the kitchen. She was rather surprised to be interrupted in her preparations by Harold Crackenthorpe.
“Miss Eyelesbarrow, can I speak to you about something?”
“Would later do, Mr. Crackenthorpe? I’m rather behind hand.”
“Certainly. Certainly. After dinner?”
“Yes, that will do.”
Dinner was duly served and appreciated. Lucy finished washing up and came out into the hall to find Harold Crackenthorpe waiting for her.
“Yes, Mr. Crackenthorpe?”
“Shall we come in here?” He opened the door of the drawing room and led the way. He shut the door behind her.
“I shall be leaving early in