By the Pricking of My Thumbs - Agatha Christie [74]
‘There,’ said Albert triumphantly–‘Told you so! It’s a CLUE!’
Book 4
Here is a Church and here is the Steeple
Open the Doors and there are the People
Chapter 14
Exercise in Thinking
‘I suppose what we ought to do is think,’ said Tuppence.
After a glad reunion in the hospital, Tuppence had eventually been honourably discharged. The faithful pair were now comparing notes together in the sitting-room of the best suite in The Lamb and Flag at Market Basing.
‘You leave thinking alone,’ said Tommy. ‘You know what that doctor told you before he let you go. No worries, no mental exertion, very little physical activity–take everything easy.’
‘What else am I doing now?’ demanded Tuppence. ‘I’ve got my feet up, haven’t I, and my head on two cushions? And as for thinking, thinking isn’t necessarily mental exertion. I’m not doing mathematics, or studying economics, or adding up the household accounts. Thinking is just resting comfortably, and leaving one’s mind open in case something interesting or important should just come floating in. Anyway, wouldn’t you rather I did a little thinking with my feet up and my head on cushions, rather than go in for action again?’
‘I certainly don’t want you going in for action again,’ said Tommy. ‘That’s out. You understand? Physically, Tuppence, you will remain quiescent. If possible, I shan’t let you out of my sight because I don’t trust you.’
‘All right,’ said Tuppence. ‘Lecture ends. Now let’s think. Think together. Pay no attention to what doctors have said to you. If you knew as much as I do about doctors–’
‘Never mind about the doctors,’ said Tommy, ‘you do as I tell you.’
‘All right. I’ve no wish at present for physical activity, I assure you. The point is that we’ve got to compare notes. We’ve got hold of a lot of things. It’s as bad as a village jumble sale.’
‘What do you mean by things?’
‘Well, facts. All sorts of facts. Far too many facts. And not only facts–Hearsay, suggestions, legends, gossip. The whole thing is like a bran tub with different kinds of parcels wrapped up and shoved down in the sawdust.’
‘Sawdust is right,’ said Tommy.
‘I don’t quite know whether you’re being insulting or modest,’ said Tuppence. ‘Anyway, you do agree with me, don’t you? We’ve got far too much of everything. There are wrong things and right things, and important things and unimportant things and they’re all mixed up together. We don’t know where to start.’
‘I do,’ said Tommy.
‘All right,’ said Tuppence. ‘Where are you starting?’
‘I’m starting with your being coshed on the head,’ said Tommy.
Tuppence considered a moment. ‘I don’t see really that that’s a starting point. I mean, it’s the last thing that happened, not the first.’
‘It’s the first in my mind,’ said Tommy. ‘I won’t have people coshing my wife. And it’s a real point to start from. It’s not imagination. It’s a real thing that really happened.’
‘I couldn’t agree with you more,’ said Tuppence. ‘It really happened and it happened to me, and I’m not forgetting it. I’ve been thinking about it–Since I regained the power of thought, that is.’
‘Have you any idea as to who did it?’
‘Unfortunately, no. I was bending down over a gravestone and whoosh!’
‘Who could it have been?’
‘I suppose it must have been somebody in Sutton Chancellor. And yet that seems so unlikely. I’ve hardly spoken to anyone.’
‘The vicar?’
‘It couldn’t have been the vicar,’ said Tuppence. ‘First because he’s a nice old boy. And secondly because he wouldn’t have been nearly strong enough. And thirdly because he’s got