Curtain - Agatha Christie [52]
He was followed by Nurse Craven. She looked smart and efficient in her trim uniform and her replies were crisp and professional. She had been in attendance on Mrs Franklin for over two months. Mrs Franklin suffered badly from depression. Witness had heard her say at least three times that she ‘wanted to end it all’, that her life was useless and that she was a millstone round her husband’s neck.
‘Why did she say that? Had there been any altercation between them?’
‘Oh no, but she was aware that her husband had recently been offered an appointment abroad. He had refused that in order not to leave her.’
‘And sometimes she felt morbidly about the fact?’
‘Yes. She would blame her miserable health, and get all worked up.’
‘Did Dr Franklin know about this?’
‘I do not think she often said so to him.’
‘But she was subject to fits of depression.’
‘Oh, definitely.’
‘Did she ever specifically mention committing suicide?’
‘I think “I want to end it all” was the phrase she used.’
‘She never suggested any particular method of taking her own life?’
‘No. She was quite vague.’
‘Had there been anything especially to depress her of late?’
‘No. She had been in reasonably good spirits.’
‘Do you agree with Dr Franklin that she was in good spirits on the night of her death?’
Nurse Craven hesitated. ‘Well – she was excited. She’d had a bad day – complained of pain and giddiness. She had seemed better in the evening, but her good spirits were a bit unnatural. She seemed feverish and rather artificial.’
‘Did you see anything of a bottle, or anything that might have contained the poison?’
‘No.’
‘What did she eat and drink?’
‘She had soup, a cutlet, green peas and mashed potatoes, and cherry tart. She had a glass of burgundy with it.’
‘Where did the burgundy come from?’
‘There was a bottle in her room. There was some left afterwards but I believe it was examined and found to be quite all right.’
‘Could she have put the drug in her glass without you seeing?’
‘Oh yes, easily. I was to and fro in the room, tidying up and arranging things. I was not watching her. She had a little despatch case beside her and also a handbag. She could have put anything in the burgundy, or later in the coffee, or in the hot milk she had last thing.’
‘Have you any idea as to what she could have done with the bottle or container if so?’
Nurse Craven considered. ‘Well, I suppose she could have thrown it out of the window later. Or put it in the waste-paper basket, or even washed it out in the bathroom and put it back in the medicine cupboard. There are several empty bottles there. I save them because they come in handy.’
‘When did you last see Mrs Franklin?’
‘At ten-thirty. I settled her for the night. She had hot milk and said she’d like an aspirin.’
‘How was she then?’
The witness considered a minute.
‘Well, really, just as usual . . . No, I’d say she was perhaps just a bit over-excited.’
‘Not depressed?’
‘Well, no, more strung up, so to speak. But if it’s suicide you’re thinking of, it might take her that way. She might feel noble or exalted about it.’
‘Do you consider she was a likely person to take her own life?’
There was a pause. Nurse Craven seemed to be struggling to make up her mind.
‘Well,’ she said at last, ‘I do and I don’t. I – yes, on the whole I do. She was very unbalanced.’
Sir William Boyd Carrington came next. He seemed genuinely upset, but gave his evidence clearly.
He had played picquet with the deceased on the night of her death. He had not noticed any signs of depression then, but in a conversation some days previously Mrs Franklin had mentioned the subject of taking her own life. She was a very unselfish woman, and deeply distressed at feeling that she was hampering her husband’s career. She was devoted to her husband and very ambitious for him. She was sometimes very depressed about her own health.
Judith was called, but she had little to say.
She knew nothing about the removal of the physostigmine from the laboratory. On the night of the tragedy Mrs Franklin