Body in the Library - Agatha Christie [24]
Conway Jefferson went on:
“Josie would know better than anyone if there had been some man hanging about Ruby or pestering her. Can’t she help?”
“She says not.”
Jefferson said, frowning:
“I can’t help feeling it must be the work of some maniac—the brutality of the method—breaking into a country house—the whole thing so unconnected and senseless. There are men of that type, men outwardly sane, but who decoy girls—sometimes children—away and kill them. Sexual crimes really, I suppose.”
Harper said:
“Oh, yes, there are such cases, but we’ve no knowledge of anyone of that kind operating in this neighbourhood.”
Jefferson went on:
“I’ve thought over all the various men I’ve seen with Ruby. Guests here and outsiders—men she’d danced with. They all seem harmless enough—the usual type. She had no special friend of any kind.”
Superintendent Harper’s face remained quite impassive, but unseen by Conway Jefferson there was still a speculative glint in his eye.
It was quite possible, he thought, that Ruby Keene might have had a special friend even though Conway Jefferson did not know about it.
He said nothing, however. The Chief Constable gave him a glance of inquiry and then rose to his feet. He said:
“Thank you, Mr. Jefferson. That’s all we need for the present.”
Jefferson said:
“You’ll keep me informed of your progress?”
“Yes, yes, we’ll keep in touch with you.”
The two men went out.
Conway Jefferson leaned back in his chair.
His eyelids came down and veiled the fierce blue of his eyes. He looked suddenly a very tired man.
Then, after a minute or two, the lids flickered. He called: “Edwards!”
From the next room the valet appeared promptly. Edwards knew his master as no one else did. Others, even his nearest, knew only his strength. Edwards knew his weakness. He had seen Conway Jefferson tired, discouraged, weary of life, momentarily defeated by infirmity and loneliness.
“Yes, sir?”
Jefferson said:
“Get on to Sir Henry Clithering. He’s at Melborne Abbas. Ask him, from me, to get here today if he can, instead of tomorrow. Tell him it’s urgent.”
Seven
I
When they were outside Jefferson’s door, Superintendent Harper said:
“Well, for what it’s worth, we’ve got a motive, sir.”
“H’m,” said Melchett. “Fifty thousand pounds, eh?”
“Yes, sir. Murder’s been done for a good deal less than that.”
“Yes, but—”
Colonel Melchett left the sentence unfinished. Harper, however, understood him.
“You don’t think it’s likely in this case? Well, I don’t either, as far as that goes. But it’s got to be gone into all the same.”
“Oh, of course.”
Harper went on:
“If, as Mr. Jefferson says, Mr. Gaskell and Mrs. Jefferson are already well provided for and in receipt of a comfortable income, well, it’s not likely they’d set out to do a brutal murder.”
“Quite so. Their financial standing will have to be investigated, of course. Can’t say I like the appearance of Gaskell much—looks a sharp, unscrupulous sort of fellow—but that’s a long way from making him out a murderer.”
“Oh, yes, sir, as I say, I don’t think it’s likely to be either of them, and from what Josie said I don’t see how it would have been humanly possible. They were both playing bridge from twenty minutes to eleven until midnight. No, to my mind there’s another possibility much more likely.”
Melchett said: “Boy friend of Ruby Keene’s?”
“That’s it, sir. Some disgruntled young fellow—not too strong in the head, perhaps. Someone, I’d say, she knew before she came here. This adoption scheme, if he got wise to it, may just have put the lid on things. He saw himself losing her, saw her being removed to a different sphere of life altogether, and he went mad and blind with rage. He got her to come out and meet him last night, had a row with her over it, lost his head completely and did her in.”
“And how did she come to be in Bantry’s library?”
“I think that’s feasible. They were out, say, in his car at the time. He came to himself, realized what he’d done, and his first thought was how to get rid of the