Murder Is Easy - Agatha Christie [13]
Luke was relieved to find that Mr. Wake’s special interest was Roman remains. He confessed gently that he knew very little of medieval folklore and witchcraft. He mentioned the existence of certain items in the history of Wychwood, offered to take Luke to the particular ledge of hill where it was said the Witches’ Sabbaths had been held, but expressed himself regretful that he could add no special information of his own.
Inwardly much relieved, Luke expressed himself as somewhat disappointed, and then plunged into inquiries as to deathbed superstitions.
Mr. Wake shook his head gently.
“I am afraid I should be the last person to know about those. My parishioners would be careful to keep anything unorthodox from my ears.”
“That’s so, of course.”
“But I’ve no doubt, all the same, there is a lot of superstition still rife. These village communities are very backward.”
Luke plunged boldly.
“I’ve been asking Miss Conway for a list of all the recent deaths she could remember. I thought I might get at something that way. I suppose you could supply me with a list, so that I could pick out the likelies.”
“Yes—yes—that could be managed. Giles, our sexton, a good fellow but sadly deaf, could help you there. Let me see now. There have been a good many—a good many—a treacherous spring and a hard winter behind it—and then a good many accidents—quite a cycle of bad luck there seems to have been.”
“Sometimes,” said Luke, “a cycle of bad luck is attributed to the presence of a particular person.”
“Yes, yes. The old story of Jonah. But I do not think there have been any strangers here—nobody, that is to say, outstanding in any way, and I’ve certainly never heard any rumour of such feeling—but then again, as I said, perhaps I shouldn’t. Now let me see—quite recently we have had Dr. Humbleby and poor Lavinia Pinkerton—a fine man, Dr. Humbleby—”
Bridget put in:
“Mr. Fitzwilliam knows friends of his.”
“Do you indeed? Very sad. His loss will be much felt. A man with many friends.”
“But surely a man with some enemies too,” said Luke. “I’m only going by what I’ve heard my friends say,” he went on hastily.
Mr. Wake sighed.
“A man who spoke his mind—and a man who wasn’t always very tactful, shall we say—” he shook his head. “It does get people’s backs up. But he was greatly beloved among the poorer classes.”
Luke said carelessly:
“You know I always feel that one of the most unpalatable facts to be faced in life, is the fact that every death that occurs means a gain to someone—I don’t mean only financially.”
The vicar nodded thoughtfully.
“I see your meaning, yes. We read in an obituary notice that a man is regretted by everybody, but that can only be true very rarely I fear. In Dr. Humbleby’s case, there is no denying that his partner, Dr. Thomas, will find his position very much improved by Dr. Humbleby’s death.”
“How is that?”
“Thomas, I believe, is a very capable fellow—certainly Humbleby always said so, but he didn’t get on here very well. He was, I think, overshadowed by Humbleby who was a man of very definite magnetism. Thomas appeared rather colourless in contrast. He didn’t impress his patients at all. I think he worried over it, too, and that made him worse—more nervous and tongue-tied. As a matter of fact I’ve noticed an astonishing difference already. More aplomb—more personality. I think he feels a new confidence in himself. He and Humbleby didn’t always agree, I believe. Thomas was all for newer methods of treatment and Humbleby preferred to stick to the old ways. There were clashes between them more than once—over that as well as over a matter nearer home—but there, I mustn’t gossip—”
Bridget said softly and clearly:
“But I think Mr. Fitzwilliam would like you to gossip!”
Luke shot her a quick disturbed look.
Mr. Wake shook his head doubtfully, and then went on, smiling a little in deprecation.
“I am afraid one learns to take too much interest in one’s neighbours’ affairs. Rose Humbleby is a very pretty girl. One doesn’t wonder that Geoffrey Thomas lost his