Mysterious Mr. Quin - Agatha Christie [61]
But the next development when it came was so serious in its character that it found him totally unprepared. He learnt of it in the pages of his morning paper. ‘Baroness Dies in her Bath,’ as the Daily Megaphone had it. The other papers were more restrained and delicate in their language, but the fact was the same. Lady Stranleigh had been found dead in her bath and her death was due to drowning. She had, it was assumed, lost consciousness, and whilst in that state her head had slipped below the water.
But Mr Satterthwaite was not satisfied with that explanation. Calling for his valet he made his toilet with less than his usual care, and ten minutes later his big Rolls-Royce was carrying him out of London as fast as it could travel.
But strangely enough it was not for Abbot’s Mede he was bound, but for a small inn some fifteen miles distant which bore the rather unusual name of the ‘Bells and Motley’. It was with great relief that he heard that Mr Harley Quin was still staying there. In another minute he was face to face with his friend.
Mr Satterthwaite clasped him by the hand and began to speak at once in an agitated manner.
‘I am terribly upset. You must help me. Already I have a dreadful feeling that it may be too late–that that nice girl may be the next to go, for she is a nice girl, nice through and through.’
‘If you will tell me,’ said Mr Quin, smiling, ‘what it is all about?’
Mr Satterthwaite looked at him reproachfully.
‘You know. I am perfectly certain that you know. But I will tell you.’
He poured out the story of his stay at Abbot’s Mede and, as always with Mr Quin, he found himself taking pleasure in his narrative. He was eloquent and subtle and meticulous as to detail.
‘So you see,’ he ended, ‘there must be an explanation.’
He looked hopefully at Mr Quin as a dog looks at his master.
‘But it is you who must solve the problem, not I,’ said Mr Quin. ‘I do not know these people. You do.’
‘I knew the Barron girls forty years ago,’ said Mr Satterthwaite with pride.
Mr Quin nodded and looked sympathetic, so much so that the other went on dreamily.
‘That time at Brighton now, Bottacetti-Boatsupsetty, quite a silly joke but how we laughed. Dear, dear, I was young then. Did a lot of foolish things. I remember the maid they had with them. Alice, her name was, a little bit of a thing–very ingenuous. I kissed her in the passage of the hotel, I remember, and one of the girls nearly caught me doing it. Dear, dear, how long ago that all was.’
He shook his head again and sighed. Then he looked at Mr Quin.
‘So you can’t help me?’ he said wistfully. ‘On other occasions–’
‘On other occasions you have proved successful owing entirely to your own efforts,’ said Mr Quin gravely. ‘I think it will be the same this time. If I were you, I should go to Abbot’s Mede now.’
‘Quite so, quite so,’ said Mr Satterthwaite, ‘as a matter of fact that is what I thought of doing. I can’t persuade you to come with me?’
Mr Quin shook his head.
‘No,’ he said, ‘my work here is done. I am leaving almost immediately.’
At Abbot’s Mede, Mr Satterthwaite was taken at once to Margery Gale. She was sitting dry-eyed at a desk in the morning-room on which were strewn various papers. Something in her greeting touched him. She seemed so very pleased to see him.
‘Roley and Maria have just left. Mr Satterthwaite, it is not as the doctors think. I am convinced, absolutely convinced, that Mother was pushed under the water and held there. She was murdered, and whoever murdered her wants to murder me too. I am sure of that. That is why–’ she indicated the document in front of her.
‘I have been making my will,’ she explained. ‘A lot of the money and some of the property does not go with the title, and there is my father’s money as well. I am leaving everything I can to Noel. I know he will make a good use of it and I do not trust Roley, he has always been out for what he can get. Will you sign it as a witness?’
‘My dear young lady,