At Bertram's Hotel - Agatha Christie [76]
“Very sad, very sad,” said the Canon, shaking his head.
“It makes everything terribly difficult,” complained Miss Gorringe. “I mean, the police constantly in and out. I suppose that’s to be expected, but we don’t like it here, though I must say Chief-Inspector Davy and Sergeant Wadell are very respectable-looking. Plain clothes, and very good style, not the sort with boots and mackintoshes like one sees on films. Almost like one of us.”
“Er—yes,” said Canon Pennyfather.
“Did you have to go to hospital?” inquired Miss Gorringe.
“No,” said the Canon, “some very nice people, really good Samaritans—a market gardener, I believe—picked me up and his wife nursed me back to health. I’m most grateful, most grateful. It is refreshing to find that there is still human kindness in the world. Don’t you think so?”
Miss Gorringe said she thought it was very refreshing. “After all one reads about the increase in crime,” she added, “all those dreadful young men and girls holding up banks and robbing trains and ambushing people.” She looked up and said, “There’s Chief-Inspector Davy coming down the stairs now. I think he wants to speak to you.”
“I don’t know why he should want to speak to me,” said Canon Pennyfather, puzzled. “He’s already been to see me, you know,” he said, “at Chadminster. He was very disappointed, I think, that I couldn’t tell him anything useful.”
“You couldn’t?”
The Canon shook his head sorrowfully.
“I couldn’t remember. The accident took place somewhere near a place called Bedhampton and really I don’t understand what I can have been doing there. The Chief-Inspector kept asking me why I was there and I couldn’t tell him. Very odd, isn’t it? He seemed to think I’d been driving a car from somewhere near a railway station to a vicarage.”
“That sounds very possible,” said Miss Gorringe.
“It doesn’t seem possible at all,” said Canon Pennyfather. “I mean, why should I be driving about in a part of the world that I don’t really know?”
Chief-Inspector Davy had come up to them.
“So here you are, Canon Pennyfather,” he said. “Feeling quite yourself again?”
“Oh, I feel quite well now,” said the Canon, “but rather inclined to have headaches still. And I’ve been told not to do too much. But I still don’t seem to remember what I ought to remember and the doctor says it may never come back.”
“Oh well,” said Chief-Inspector Davy, “we mustn’t give up hope.” He led the Canon away from the desk. “There’s a little experiment I want you to try,” he said. “You don’t mind helping me, do you?”
III
When Chief-Inspector Davy opened the door of No. 18, Miss Marple was still sitting in the armchair by the window.
“A good many people in the street today,” she observed. “More than usual.”
“Oh well—this is a way through to Berkeley Square and Shepherd Market.”
“I didn’t mean only passersby. Men doing things—road repairs, a telephone repair van—meat trolley—a couple of private cars—”
“And what—may I ask—do you deduce from that?”
“I didn’t say that I deduced anything.”
Father gave her a look. Then he said:
“I want you to help me.”
“Of course. That is why I am here. What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to do exactly what you did on the night of November 19th. You were asleep—you woke up—possibly awakened by some unusual noise. You switched on the light, looked at the time, got out of bed, opened the door and looked out. Can you repeat those actions?”
“Certainly,” said Miss Marple. She got up and went across to the bed.
“Just a moment.”
Chief-Inspector Davy went and tapped on the connecting walls of the next room.
“You’ll have to do that louder,” said Miss Marple. “This place is very well built.”
The Chief-Inspector redoubled the force of his knuckles.
“I told Canon Pennyfather to count ten,” he said, looking at his watch. “Now then, off you go.”
Miss Marple touched the electric lamp,