After the Funeral - Agatha Christie [44]
“And I wanted to ask you how long that was likely to be, because, of course, I must start looking about for another post.”
Susan considered.
“There’s really not very much to be done here. In a couple of days I can get things sorted out and notify the auctioneer.”
“You have decided to sell up everything, then?”
“Yes. I don’t suppose there will be any difficulty in letting the cottage?”
“Oh, no—people will queue up for it, I’m sure. There are so few cottages to rent. One nearly always has to buy.”
“So it’s all very simple, you see.” Susan hesitated a moment before saying, “I wanted to tell you—that I hope you’ll accept three months’ salary.”
“That’s very generous of you, I’m sure, Mrs. Banks. I do appreciate it. And you would be prepared to—I mean I could ask you—if necessary—to—to recommend me? To say that I had been with a relation of yours and that I had—proved satisfactory?”
“Oh, of course.”
“I don’t know whether I ought to ask it.” Miss Gilchrist’s hands began to shake and she tried to steady her voice. “But would it be possible not to—to mention the circumstances—or even the name?”
Susan stared.
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s because you haven’t thought, Mrs. Banks. It’s murder. A murder that’s been in the papers and that everybody has read about. Don’t you see? People might think, ‘Two women living together, and one of them is killed—and perhaps the companion did it.’ Don’t you see, Mrs. Banks? I’m sure that if I was looking for someone, I’d—well, I’d think twice before engaging myself—if you understand what I mean. Because one never knows! It’s been worrying me dreadfully, Mrs. Banks; I’ve been lying awake at night thinking that perhaps I’ll never get another job—not of this kind. And what else is there that I can do?”
The question came out with unconscious pathos. Susan felt suddenly stricken. She realized the desperation of this pleasant-spoken commonplace woman who was dependent for existence on the fears and whims of employers. And there was a lot of truth in what Miss Gilchrist had said. You wouldn’t, if you could help it, engage a woman to share domestic intimacy who had figured, however innocently, in a murder case.
Susan said: “But if they find the man who did it—”
“Oh then, of course, it will be quite all right. But will they find him? I don’t think, myself, the police have the least idea. And if he’s not caught—well, that leaves me as—as not quite the most likely person, but as a person who could have done it.”
Susan nodded thoughtfully. It was true that Miss Gilchrist did not benefit from Cora Lansquenet’s death—but who was to know that? And besides, there were so many tales—ugly tales—of animosity arising between women who lived together—strange pathological motives for sudden violence. Someone who had not known them might imagine that Cora Lansquenet and Miss Gilchrist had lived on those terms….
Susan spoke with her usual decision.
“Don’t worry, Miss Gilchrist,” she said, speaking briskly and cheerfully. “I’m sure I can find you a post amongst my friends. There won’t be the least difficulty.”
“I’m afraid,” said Miss Gilchrist, regaining some of her customary manner, “that I couldn’t undertake any really rough work. Just a little plain cooking and housework—”
The telephone rang and Miss Gilchrist jumped.
“Dear me, I wonder who that can be.”
“I expect it’s my husband,” said Susan, jumping up. “He said he’d ring me tonight.”
She went to the telephone.
“Yes?—yes, this is Mrs. Banks speaking personally…” There was a pause and then her voice changed. It became soft and warm. “Hallo, darling—yes, it’s me… Oh, quite well… Murder by someone unknown…the usual thing… Only Mr. Entwhistle…What?…it’s difficult to say, but I think so… Yes, just as we thought… Absolutely according to plan… I shall sell the stuff. There’s nothing we’d want… Not for a day or two… Absolutely frightful… Don’t fuss. I know what I’m doing… Greg, you didn’t… You were careful to… No, it’s nothing. Nothing at all. Goodnight, darling.”
She rang off. The nearness of Miss Gilchrist had hampered her a little. Miss Gilchrist