By the Pricking of My Thumbs - Agatha Christie [73]
‘Albert’s hooked forefinger drew something towards him from inside. He clawed it gently forward until the narrow small drawer showed in the opening. He hooked it out and laid it before Tommy, with the air of a dog bringing his bone to his master.
‘Now wait a minute, sir. There’s something in here, something wrapped up in a long thin envelope. Now we’ll do the other side.’
He changed hands and resumed his contortionist clawings. Presently a second drawer was brought to light and was laid beside the first one.
‘There’s something in here, too,’ said Albert. ‘Another sealed-up envelope that someone’s hidden here one time or another. I’ve not tried to open either of them–I wouldn’t do such a thing.’ His voice was virtuous in the extreme. ‘I left that to you–But what I say is–they may be clues–’
Together he and Tommy extracted the contents of the dusty drawers. Tommy took out first a sealed envelope rolled up lengthways with an elastic band round it. The elastic band parted as soon as it was touched.
‘Looks valuable,’ said Albert.
Tommy glanced at the envelope. It bore the superscription ‘Confidential’.
‘There you are,’ said Albert. ‘“Confidential”. It’s a clue.’
Tommy extracted the contents of the envelope. In a faded handwriting, and very scratchy handwriting at that, there was a half-sheet of notepaper. Tommy turned it this way and that and Albert leaned over his shoulder, breathing heavily.
‘Mrs MacDonald’s recipe for Salmon Cream,’ Tommy read. ‘Given to me as a special favour. Take 2 pounds of middle cut of salmon, 1 pint of Jersey cream, a wineglass of brandy and a fresh cucumber.’ He broke off. ‘I’m sorry, Albert, it’s a clue which will lead us to good cookery, no doubt.’
Albert uttered sounds indicative of disgust and disappointment.
‘Never mind,’ said Tommy. ‘Here’s another one to try.’
The next sealed envelope did not appear to be one of quite such antiquity. It had two pale grey wax seals affixed to it, each bearing a representation of a wild rose.
‘Pretty,’ said Tommy, ‘rather fanciful for Aunt Ada. How to cook a beef steak pie, I expect.’
Tommy ripped open the envelope. He raised his eyebrows. Ten carefully folded five-pound notes fell out.
‘Nice thin ones,’ said Tommy. ‘They’re the old ones. You know, the kind we used to have in the war. Decent paper. Probably aren’t legal tender nowadays.’
‘Money!’ said Albert. ‘What she want all that money for?’
‘Oh, that’s an old lady’s nest egg,’ said Tommy. ‘Aunt Ada always had a nest egg. Years ago she told me that every woman should always have fifty pounds in five-pound notes with her in case of what she called emergencies.’
‘Well, I suppose it’ll still come in handy,’ said Albert.
‘I don’t suppose they’re absolutely obsolete. I think you can make some arrangement to change them at a bank.’
‘There’s another one still,’ said Albert. ‘The one from the other drawer–’
The next was bulkier. There seemed to be more inside it and it had three large important-looking red seals. On the outside was written in the same spiky hand ‘In the event of my death, this envelope should be sent unopened to my solicitor, Mr Rockbury of Rockbury & Tomkins, or to my nephew Thomas Beresford. Not to be opened by any unauthorized person.’
There were several sheets of closely written paper. The handwriting was bad, very spiky and here and there somewhat illegible. Tommy read it aloud with some difficulty.
‘I, Ada Maria Fanshawe, am writing down here certain matters which have come to my knowledge and which have been told me by people who are residing in this nursing home called Sunny Ridge. I cannot vouch for any of this information being correct but there seems to be some