Cat Among the Pigeons - Agatha Christie [44]
“Not around these parts. Gardeners are usually rather ancient. Do you know anything about gardening?”
“Quite a lot. I’ve got one of these gardening mothers. England’s speciality. She’s seen to it that I’m a worthy assistant to her.”
“And what exactly is going on at Meadowbank—to bring you on the scene?”
“We don’t know, actually, that there’s anything going on at Meadowbank. My assignment is in the nature of a watching brief. Or was—until last night. Murder of a Games Mistress. Not quite in the school’s curriculum.”
“It could happen,” said Inspector Kelsey. He sighed. “Anything could happen—anywhere. I’ve learnt that. But I’ll admit that it’s a little off the beaten track. What’s behind all this?”
Adam told him. Kelsey listened with interest.
“I did that girl an injustice,” he remarked—“But you’ll admit it sounds too fantastic to be true. Jewels worth between half a million and a million pounds? Who do you say they belong to?”
“That’s a very pretty question. To answer it, you’d have to have a gaggle of international lawyers on the job—and they’d probably disagree. You could argue the case a lot of ways. They belonged, three months ago, to His Highness Prince Ali Yusuf of Ramat. But now? If they’d turned up in Ramat they’d have been the property of the present Government, they’d have made sure of that. Ali Yusuf may have willed them to someone. A lot would then depend on where the will was executed and whether it could be proved. They may belong to his family. But the real essence of the matter is, that if you or I happened to pick them up in the street and put them in our pockets, they would for all practical purposes belong to us. That is, I doubt if any legal machine exists that could get them away from us. They could try, of course, but the intricacies of international law are quite incredible….”
“You mean that, practically speaking, it’s findings are keepings?” asked Inspector Kelsey. He shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s not very nice,” he said primly.
“No,” said Adam firmly. “It’s not very nice. There’s more than one lot after them, too. None of them scrupulous. Word’s got around, you see. It may be a rumour, it may be true, but the story is that they were got out of Ramat just before the bust up. There are a dozen different tales of how.”
“But why Meadowbank? Because of little Princess Butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth?”
“Princess Shaista, first cousin of Ali Yusuf. Yes. Someone may try and deliver the goods to her or communicate with her. There are some questionable characters from our point of view hanging about the neighbourhood. A Mrs. Kolinsky, for instance, staying at the Grand Hotel. Quite a prominent member of what one might describe as International Riff Raff Ltd. Nothing in your line, always strictly within the law, all perfectly respectable, but a grand picker-up of useful information. Then there’s a woman who was out in Ramat dancing in cabaret there. She’s reported to have been working for a certain foreign government. Where she is now we don’t know, we don’t even know what she looks like, but there’s a rumour that she might be in this part of the world. Looks, doesn’t it, as though it were all centring round Meadowbank? And last night, Miss Springer gets herself killed.”
Kelsey nodded thoughtfully.
“Proper mix-up,” he observed. He struggled a moment with his feelings. “You see this sort of thing on the telly … far-fetched—that’s what you think … can’t really happen. And it doesn’t—not in the normal course of events.”
“Secret agents, robbery, violence, murder, double crossing,” agreed Adam. “All preposterous—but that side of life exists.”
“But not at Meadowbank!”
The words were wrung from Inspector Kelsey.
“I perceive your point,” said Adam. “Lese-majesty.”
There was a silence, and then Inspector Kelsey asked:
“What do you think happened last night?”
Adam took his time,