Mrs McGinty's Dead - Agatha Christie [80]
‘But why?’
‘Because, as I say, she wanted to play a lone hand.’
‘It wouldn’t be blackmail? She was an extremely wealthy woman, you know, widow of a North Country manufacturer.’
‘Oh no, not blackmail. More likely beneficence. We’ll say that she quite liked the person in question, and that she didn’t want to give their secret away. But nevertheless she was curious. She intended to have a private talk with that person. And whilst doing so, to make up her mind whether or not that person had had anything to do with the death of Mrs McGinty. Something like that.’
‘Then that leaves the other three photos in?’
‘Precisely. Mrs Upward meant to get in touch with the person in question at the first opportunity. That came when her son and Mrs Oliver went over to the Repertory Theatre at Cullenquay.’
‘And she telephoned to Deirdre Henderson. That puts Deirdre Henderson right back in the picture. And her mother!’
Superintendent Spence shook his head sadly at Poirot.
‘You do like to make it difficult, don’t you, M. Poirot?’ he said.
Chapter 21
Mrs Wetherby walked back home from the post office with a gait surprisingly spry in one habitually reported to be an invalid.
Only when she had entered the front door did she once more shuffle feebly into the drawing-room and collapse on the sofa.
The bell was within reach of her hand and she rang it.
Since nothing happened she rang it again, this time keeping her finger on it for some time.
In due course Maude Williams appeared. She was wearing a flowered overall and had a duster in her hand.
‘Did you ring, madam?’
‘I rang twice. When I ring I expect someone to come at once. I might be dangerously ill.’
‘I’m sorry, madam. I was upstairs.’
‘I know you were. You were in my room. I heard you overhead. And you were pulling the drawers in and out. I can’t think why. It’s no part of your job to go prying into my things.’
‘I wasn’t prying. I was putting some of the things you left lying about away tidily.’
‘Nonsense. All you people snoop. And I won’t have it. I’m feeling very faint. Is Miss Deirdre in?’
‘She took the dog for a walk.’
‘How stupid. She might know I would need her. Bring me an egg beaten up in milk and a little brandy. The brandy is on the sideboard in the dining-room.’
‘There are only just the three eggs for breakfast tomorrow.’
‘Then someone will have to go without. Hurry, will you? Don’t stand there looking at me. And you’re wearing far too much make-up. It isn’t suitable.’
There was a bark in the hall and Deirdre and her Sealyham came in as Maude went out.
‘I heard your voice,’ said Deirdre breathlessly. ‘What have you been saying to her?’
‘Nothing.’
‘She looked like thunder.’
‘I put her in her place. Impertinent girl.’
‘Oh, Mummy darling, must you? It’s so difficult to get anyone. And she does cook well.’
‘I suppose it’s of no importance that she’s insolent to me! Oh well, I shan’t be with you much longer.’ Mrs Wetherby rolled up her eyes and took some fluttering breaths. ‘I walked too far,’ she murmured.
‘You oughtn’t to have gone out, darling. Why didn’t you tell me you were going?’
‘I thought some air would do me good. It’s so stuffy. It doesn’t matter. One doesn’t really want to live—not if one’s only a trouble to people.’
‘You’re not a trouble, darling. I’d die without you.’
‘You’re a good girl—but I can see how I weary you and get on your nerves.’
‘You don’t—you don’t,’ said Deirdre passionately.
Mrs Wetherby sighed and let her eyelids fall.
‘I—can’t talk much,’ she murmured. ‘I must just lie still.’
‘I’ll hurry up Maude with the egg nog.’
Deirdre ran out of the room. In her hurry she caught her elbow on a table and a bronze god bumped to the ground.
‘So clumsy,’ murmured Mrs Wetherby to herself, wincing.
The door opened