Listerdale Mystery - Agatha Christie [29]
‘My dear child. Come now, surely now, surely you are exaggerating.’
‘I’m not. It’s one of us four–it must be.’
‘Who are the four to whom you refer?’
Magdalen sat up straight and spoke more composedly.
‘There’s myself and Matthew. Aunt Lily was our great aunt. She was my grandmother’s sister. We’ve lived with her ever since we were fourteen (we’re twins, you know). Then there was William Crabtree. He was her nephew–her brother’s child. He lived there too, with his wife Emily.’
‘She supported them?’
‘More or less. He has a little money of his own, but he’s not strong and has to live at home. He’s a quiet, dreamy sort of man. I’m sure it would have been impossible for him to have–oh!–it’s awful of me to think of it even!’
‘I am still very far from understanding the position. Perhaps you would not mind running over the facts–if it does not distress you too much.’
‘Oh! no–I want to tell you. And it’s all quite clear in my mind still–horribly clear. We’d had tea, you understand, and we’d all gone off to do things of our own. I to do some dressmaking. Matthew to type an article–he does a little journalism; William to do his stamps. Emily hadn’t been down to tea. She’d taken a headache powder and was lying down. So there we were, all of us, busy and occupied. And when Martha went in to lay supper at half-past seven, there Aunt Lily was–dead. Her head–oh! it’s horrible–all crushed in.’
‘The weapon was found, I think?’
‘Yes. It was a heavy paperweight that always lay on the table by the door. The police tested it for fingerprints, but there were none. It had been wiped clean.’
‘And your first surmise?’
‘We thought of course it was a burglar. There were two or three drawers of the bureau pulled out, as though a thief had been looking for something. Of course we thought it was a burglar! And then the police came–and they said she had been dead at least an hour, and asked Martha who had been to the house, and Martha said nobody. And all the windows were fastened on the inside, and there seemed no signs of anything having been tampered with. And then they began to ask us questions…’
She stopped. Her breast heaved. Her eyes, frightened and imploring, sought Sir Edward’s in search of reassurance.
‘For instance, who benefited by your aunt’s death?’
‘That’s simple. We all benefit equally. She left her money to be divided in equal shares among the four of us.’
‘And what was the value of her estate?’
‘The lawyer told us it will come to about eighty thousand pounds after the death duties are paid.’
Sir Edward opened his eyes in some slight surprise.
‘That is quite a considerable sum. You knew, I suppose, the total of your aunt’s fortune?’
Magdalen shook her head.
‘No–it came quite as a surprise to us. Aunt Lily was always terribly careful about money. She kept just the one servant and always talked a lot about economy.’
Sir Edward nodded thoughtfully. Magdalen leaned forward a little in her chair.
‘You will help me–you will?’
Her words came to Sir Edward as an unpleasant shock just at the moment when he was becoming interested in her story for its own sake.
‘My dear young lady–what can I possibly do? If you want good legal advice, I can give you the name–’
She interrupted him.
‘Oh! I don’t want that sort of thing! I want you to help me personally–as a friend.’
‘That’s very charming of you, but–’
‘I want you to come to our house. I want you to ask questions. I want you to see and judge for yourself.’
‘But my dear young–’
‘Remember, you promised. Anywhere–any time–you said, if I wanted help…’
Her eyes, pleading yet confident, looked into his. He felt ashamed and strangely touched. That terrific sincerity of hers, that absolute belief in an idle promise, ten years old, as a sacred binding thing. How many men had not said those self-same words–a cliché almost!–and how few of them had ever been called upon to make good.
He said rather