Murder Is Easy - Agatha Christie [46]
“A long time ago. He was such a promising boy. I had helped him, you know, to educate himself. And I was so proud of his—his spirit and the way he was determined to succeed.”
She sighed again.
“My people, of course, were scandalized. Class distinctions in those days were very strong.” She added after a minute or two, “I’ve always followed his career with great interest. My people, I think, were wrong.”
Then, with a smile, she nodded a farewell and went back into the house.
Luke tried to collect his thoughts. He had placed Miss Waynflete as definitely “old.” He realized now that she was probably still under sixty. Lord Whitfield must be well over fifty. She might, perhaps, be a year or two older than he, no more.
And he was going to marry Bridget. Bridget, who was twenty-eight. Bridget, who was young and alive….
“Oh, damn,” said Luke. “Don’t let me go on thinking of it. The job. Get on with the job.”
Fourteen
MEDITATIONS OF LUKE
Mrs. Church, Amy Gibbs’s aunt, was definitely an unpleasant woman. Her sharp nose, shifty eyes, and her voluble tongue all alike filled Luke with nausea.
He adopted a curt manner with her and found it unexpectedly successful.
“What you’ve got to do,” he told her, “is to answer my questions to the best of your ability. If you hold back anything or tamper with the truth the consequences may be extremely serious to you.”
“Yes, sir. I see. I’m sure I’m only too willing to tell you anything I can. I’ve never been mixed up with the police—”
“And you don’t want to be,” finished Luke. “Well, if you do as I’ve told you there won’t be any question of that. I want to know all about your late niece—who her friends were—what money she had—anything she said that might be out of the way. We’ll start with her friends. Who were they?”
Mrs. Church leered at him slyly out of the corner of an unpleasant eye.
“You’ll be meaning gentlemen, sir?”
“Had she any girl friends?”
“Well—hardly—not to speak of, sir. Of course there was girls she’d been in service with—but Amy didn’t keep up with them much. You see—”
“She preferred the sterner sex. Go on. Tell me about that.”
“It was Jim Harvey down at the garage she was actually going with, sir. And a nice steady young fellow he was. ‘You couldn’t do better,’ I’ve said to her many a time—”
Luke cut in:
“And the others?”
Again he got the sly look.
“I expect you’re thinking of the gentleman who keeps the curiosity shop? I didn’t like it myself, and I tell you that straight, sir! I’ve always been respectable and I don’t hold with carrying on! But with what girls are nowadays it’s no use speaking to them. They go their own way. And often they live to regret it.”
“Did Amy live to regret it?” asked Luke bluntly.
“No, sir—that I do not think.”
“She went to consult Dr. Thomas on the day of her death. That wasn’t the reason?”
“No, sir, I’m nearly sure it wasn’t. Oh! I’d take my oath on it! Amy had been feeling ill and out of sorts, but it was just a bad cough and cold she had. It wasn’t anything of the kind you suggest, I’m sure it wasn’t, sir.”
“I’ll take your word for that. How far had matters gone between her and Ellsworthy?”
Mrs. Church leered.
“I couldn’t exactly say, sir. Amy wasn’t one for confiding in me.”
Luke said curtly:
“But they’d gone pretty far?”
Mrs. Church said smoothly:
“The gentleman hasn’t got at all a good reputation here, sir. All sorts of goings on. And friends down from town and many very queer happenings. Up in the Witches’ Meadow in the middle of the night.”
“Did Amy go?”
“She did go once, sir, I believe. Stayed out all night and his lordship found out about it (she was at the Manor then) and spoke to her pretty sharp, and she sauced him back and he gave her notice for it, which was only to be expected.”
“Did she ever talk to you much about what went on in the places she was in?”
Mrs. Church shook her head.
“Not very much, sir. More interested in her own doings, she was.”
“She was with Major and Mrs. Horton for a while, wasn’t she?”
“Nearly a year, sir.”
“Why did she leave?”
“Just to better herself. There was a