Body in the Library - Agatha Christie [22]
“So you must understand that, essentially, I’m a lonely man. I like young people. I enjoy them. Once or twice I’ve played with the idea of adopting some girl or boy. During this last month I got very friendly with the child who’s been killed. She was absolutely natural—completely naïve. She chattered on about her life and her experiences—in pantomime, with touring companies, with Mum and Dad as a child in cheap lodgings. Such a different life from any I’ve known! Never complaining, never seeing it as sordid. Just a natural, uncomplaining, hardworking child, unspoilt and charming. Not a lady, perhaps, but, thank God, neither vulgar nor—abominable word—‘lady-like.’
“I got more and more fond of Ruby. I decided, gentlemen, to adopt her legally. She would become—by law—my daughter. That, I hope, explains my concern for her and the steps I took when I heard of her unaccountable disappearance.”
There was a pause. Then Superintendent Harper, his unemotional voice robbing the question of any offence, asked: “May I ask what your son-in-law and daughter-in-law said to that?”
Jefferson’s answer came back quickly:
“What could they say? They didn’t, perhaps, like it very much. It’s the sort of thing that arouses prejudice. But they behaved very well—yes, very well. It’s not as though, you see, they were dependent on me. When my son Frank married I turned over half my worldly goods to him then and there. I believe in that. Don’t let your children wait until you’re dead. They want the money when they’re young, not when they’re middle-aged. In the same way when my daughter Rosamund insisted on marrying a poor man, I settled a big sum of money on her. That sum passed to him at her death. So, you see, that simplified the matter from the financial angle.”
“I see, Mr. Jefferson,” said Superintendent Harper.
But there was a certain reserve in his tone. Conway Jefferson pounced upon it.
“But you don’t agree, eh?”
“It’s not for me to say, sir, but families, in my experience, don’t always act reasonably.”
“I dare say you’re right, Superintendent, but you must remember that Mr. Gaskell and Mrs. Jefferson aren’t, strictly speaking, my family. They’re not blood relations.”
“That, of course, makes a difference,” admitted the Superintendent.
For a moment Conway Jefferson’s eyes twinkled. He said: “That’s not to say that they didn’t think me an old fool! That would be the average person’s reaction. But I wasn’t being a fool. I know character. With education and polishing, Ruby Keene could have taken her place anywhere.”
Melchett said:
“I’m afraid we’re being rather impertinent and inquisitive, but it’s important that we should get at all the facts. You proposed to make full provision for the girl—that is, settle money upon her, but you hadn’t already done so?”
Jefferson said:
“I understand what you’re driving at—the possibility of someone’s benefiting by the girl’s death? But nobody could. The necessary formalities for legal adoption were under way, but they hadn’t yet been completed.”
Melchett said slowly:
“Then, if anything happened to you—?”
He left the sentence unfinished, as a query. Conway Jefferson was quick to respond.
“Nothing’s likely to happen to me! I’m a cripple, but I’m not an invalid. Although doctors do like to pull long faces and give advice about not overdoing things. Not overdoing things! I’m as strong as a horse! Still, I’m quite aware of the fatalities of life—my God, I’ve good reason to be! Sudden death comes to the strongest man—especially in these days of road casualties. But I’d provided for that. I made a new will about ten days ago.”
“Yes?” Superintendent Harper