At Bertram's Hotel - Agatha Christie [67]
“How did you find that out?”
“Old lady told me—distressed. Didn’t think he was a nice friend for a young girl. He isn’t of course.”
“Especially if he and the mother—” Waddell broke off delicately. “It’s pretty general gossip—”
“Yes. May be true, may not. Probably is.”
“In that case which one is he really after?”
Father ignored that point. He said:
“I want him picked up. I want him badly. His car’s here—just round the corner.”
“Do you think he might be actually staying in this hotel?”
“Don’t think so. It wouldn’t fit into the picture. He’s not supposed to be here. If he came here, he came to meet the girl. She definitely came to meet him, I’d say.”
The door opened and Bess Sedgwick reappeared.
“I came back,” she said, “because I wanted to speak to you.”
She looked from him to the other two men.
“I wonder if I could speak to you alone? I’ve given you all the information I have, such as it is; but I would like a word or two with you in private.”
“I don’t see any reason why not,” said Chief-Inspector Davy. He motioned with his head, and the young detective-constable took his notebook and went out. Wadell went with him. “Well?” said Chief-Inspector Davy.
Lady Sedgwick sat down again opposite him.
“That silly story about poisoned chocolates,” she said. “It’s nonsense. Absolutely ridiculous. I don’t believe anything of the kind ever happened.”
“You don’t, eh?”
“Do you?”
Father shook his head doubtfully. “You think your daughter cooked it up?”
“Yes. But why?”
“Well, if you don’t know why,” said Chief-Inspector Davy, “how should I know? She’s your daughter. Presumably you know her better than I do.”
“I don’t know her at all,” said Bess Sedgwick bitterly. “I’ve not seen her or had anything to do with her since she was two years old, when I ran away from my husband.”
“Oh yes. I know all that. I find it curious. You see, Lady Sedgwick, courts usually give the mother, even if she is a guilty party in a divorce, custody of a young child if she asks for it. Presumably then you didn’t ask for it? You didn’t want it.”
“I thought it—better not.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t think it was—safe for her.”
“On moral grounds?”
“No. Not on moral grounds. Plenty of adultery nowadays. Children have to learn about it, have to grow up with it. No. It’s just that I am not really a safe person to be with. The life I’d lead wouldn’t be a safe life. You can’t help the way you’re born. I was born to live dangerously. I’m not law-abiding or conventional. I thought it would be better for Elvira, happier, to have a proper English conventional bringing-up. Shielded, looked after….”
“But minus a mother’s love?”
“I thought if she learned to love me it might bring sorrow to her. Oh, you mayn’t believe me, but that’s what I felt.”
“I see. Do you still think you were right?”
“No,” said Bess. “I don’t. I think now I may have been entirely wrong.”
“Does your daughter know Ladislaus Malinowski?”
“I’m sure she doesn’t. She said so. You heard her.”
“I heard her, yes.”
“Well, then?”
“She was afraid, you know, when she was sitting here. In our profession we get to know fear when we meet up with it. She was afraid—why? Chocolates or no chocolates, her life has been attempted. That tube story may be true enough—”
“It was ridiculous. Like a thriller—”
“Perhaps. But that sort of thing does happen, Lady Sedgwick. Oftener than you’d think. Can you give me any idea who might want to kill your daughter?”
“Nobody—nobody at all!”
She spoke vehemently.
Chief-Inspector Davy sighed and shook his head.
Chapter Twenty-two
Chief-Inspector Davy waited patiently until Mrs. Melford had finished talking. It had been a singularly unprofitable interview. Cousin Mildred had been incoherent, unbelieving and generally featherheaded. Or that was Father’s private view. Accounts of Elvira’s sweet manners, nice nature, troubles with her teeth, odd excuses told through the telephone, had led on to serious doubts whether Elvira’s friend Bridget was really a suitable friend for her. All these matters had been presented to the Chief-Inspector in