A Murder Is Announced_ A Miss Marple Mystery - Agatha Christie [16]
“Unless she was in it with him?”
“That’s very possible. Both foreigners—and I wouldn’t trust her a yard—not a yard.”
Craddock noticed two enormous frightened black eyes peering out of a window by the front door. The face, flattened against the pane, was hardly visible.
“That her there?”
“That’s right, sir.”
The face disappeared.
Craddock rang the front doorbell.
After a long wait the door was opened by a good-looking young woman with chestnut hair and a bored expression.
“Detective-Inspector Craddock,” said Craddock.
The young woman gave him a cool stare out of very attractive hazel eyes and said:
“Come in. Miss Blacklock is expecting you.”
The hall, Craddock noted, was long and narrow and seemed almost incredibly full of doors.
The young woman threw open a door on the left, and said: “Inspector Craddock, Aunt Letty. Mitzi wouldn’t go to the door. She’s shut herself up in the kitchen and she’s making the most marvellous moaning noises. I shouldn’t think we’ll get any lunch.”
She added in an explanatory manner to Craddock: “She doesn’t like the police,” and withdrew, shutting the door behind her.
Craddock advanced to meet the owner of Little Paddocks.
He saw a tall active-looking woman of about sixty. Her grey hair had a slight natural wave and made a distinguished setting for an intelligent, resolute face. She had keen grey eyes and a square determined chin. There was a surgical dressing on her left ear. She wore no makeup and was plainly dressed in a well-cut tweed coat and skirt and pullover. Round the neck of the latter she wore, rather unexpectedly, a set of old-fashioned cameos—a Victorian touch which seemed to hint at a sentimental streak not otherwise apparent.
Close beside her, with an eager round face and untidy hair escaping from a hair net, was a woman of about the same age whom Craddock had no difficulty in recognizing as the “Dora Bunner—companion” of Constable Legg’s notes—to which the latter had added an off-the-record commentary of “Scatty!”
Miss Blacklock spoke in a pleasant well-bred voice.
“Good morning, Inspector Craddock. This is my friend, Miss Bunner, who helps me run the house. Won’t you sit down? You won’t smoke, I suppose?”
“Not on duty, I’m afraid, Miss Blacklock.”
“What a shame!”
Craddock’s eyes took in the room with a quick, practised glance. Typical Victorian double drawing room. Two long windows in this room, built-out bay window in the other … chairs … sofa … centre table with a big bowl of chrysanthemums—another bowl in window—all fresh and pleasant without much originality. The only incongruous note was a small silver vase with dead violets in it on a table near the archway into the further room. Since he could not imagine Miss Blacklock tolerating dead flowers in a room, he imagined it to be the only indication that something out of the way had occurred to distract the routine of a well-run household.
He said:
“I take it, Miss Blacklock, that this is the room in which the—incident occurred?”
“Yes.”
“And you should have seen it last night,” Miss Bunner exclaimed. “Such a mess. Two little tables knocked over, and the leg off one—people barging about in the dark—and someone put down a lighted cigarette and burnt one of the best bits of furniture. People—young people especially—are so careless about these things … Luckily none of the china got broken—”
Miss Blacklock interrupted gently but firmly:
“Dora, all these things, vexatious as they may be, are only trifles. It will be best, I think, if we just answer Inspector Craddock’s questions.”
“Thank you, Miss Blacklock. I shall come to what happened last night, presently. First of all I want you to tell me when you first saw the dead man—Rudi Scherz.”
“Rudi Scherz?” Miss Blacklock looked slightly surprised. “Is that his name? Somehow, I thought … Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. My first encounter with him was when I was in Medenham Spa for a day’s shopping about—let me see, about three weeks ago. We—Miss Bunner and I—were having lunch at the Royal Spa Hotel. As we were just leaving after lunch,