Body in the Library - Agatha Christie [50]
“It sounds to me the kind of village domestic problem that is right up Miss Marple’s street. She’s very sharp, you know.”
The Superintendent smiled. He said:
“I’ll say you’re right. Nothing much gets past her.” Miss Marple looked up at their approach and welcomed them eagerly. She listened to the Superintendent’s request and at once acquiesced.
“I should like to help you very much, Superintendent, and I think that perhaps I could be of some use. What with the Sunday School, you know, and the Brownies, and our Guides, and the Orphanage quite near—I’m on the committee, you know, and often run in to have a little talk with Matron—and then servants—I usually have very young maids. Oh, yes, I’ve quite a lot of experience in when a girl is speaking the truth and when she is holding something back.”
“In fact, you’re an expert,” said Sir Henry.
Miss Marple flashed him a reproachful glance and said:
“Oh, please don’t laugh at me, Sir Henry.”
“I shouldn’t dream of laughing at you. You’ve had the laugh of me too many times.”
“One does see so much evil in a village,” murmured Miss Marple in an explanatory voice.
“By the way,” said Sir Henry, “I’ve cleared up one point you asked me about. The Superintendent tells me that there were nail clippings in Ruby’s wastepaper basket.”
Miss Marple said thoughtfully:
“There were? Then that’s that….”
“Why did you want to know, Miss Marple?” asked the Superintendent.
Miss Marple said:
“It was one of the things that—well, that seemed wrong when I looked at the body. The hands were wrong, somehow, and I couldn’t at first think why. Then I realized that girls who are very much made-up, and all that, usually have very long fingernails. Of course, I know that girls everywhere do bite their nails—it’s one of those habits that are very hard to break oneself of. But vanity often does a lot to help. Still, I presumed that this girl hadn’t cured herself. And then the little boy—Peter, you know—he said something which showed that her nails had been long, only she caught one and broke it. So then, of course, she might have trimmed off the rest to make an even appearance, and I asked about clippings and Sir Henry said he’d find out.”
Sir Henry remarked:
“You said just now, ‘one of the things that seemed wrong when you looked at the body.’ Was there something else?”
Miss Marple nodded vigorously.
“Oh yes!” she said. “There was the dress. The dress was all wrong.”
Both men looked at her curiously.
“Now why?” said Sir Henry.
“Well, you see, it was an old dress. Josie said so, definitely, and I could see for myself that it was shabby and rather worn. Now that’s all wrong.”
“I don’t see why.”
Miss Marple got a little pink.
“Well, the idea is, isn’t it, that Ruby Keene changed her dress and went off to meet someone on whom she presumably had what my young nephews call a ‘crush’?”
The Superintendent’s eyes twinkled a little.
“That’s the theory. She’d got a date with someone—a boy friend, as the saying goes.”
“Then why,” demanded Miss Marple, “was she wearing an old dress?”
The Superintendent scratched his head thoughtfully. He said:
“I see your point. You think she’d wear a new one?”
“I think she’d wear her best dress. Girls do.”
Sir Henry interposed.
“Yes, but look here, Miss Marple. Suppose she was going outside to this rendezvous. Going in an open car, perhaps, or walking in some rough going. Then she’d not want to risk messing a new frock and she’d put on an old one.”
“That would be the sensible thing to do,” agreed the Superintendent.
Miss Marple turned on him. She spoke with animation.
“The sensible thing to do would be to change into trousers and a pullover, or into tweeds. That, of course (I don’t want to be snobbish, but I’m afraid it’s unavoidable), that’s what a girl of—of our class would do.
“A well-bred girl,” continued Miss Marple, warming to her subject, “is always very particular to wear the right clothes for the right occasion. I mean, however hot the day was, a well-bred girl would never turn up at a point-to-point in a silk flowered frock.”
“And the correct wear