Ordeal by Innocence - Agatha Christie [53]
“Someone whom Mrs. Argyle herself let in?”
“Why not?” said Kirsten defiantly. “She was kind—always very kind. And she was not afraid—of people or things. Besides it is not as though she were alone in the house. There were others—her husband, Gwenda, Mary. She had only to call out.”
“But she didn’t call out.” Huish pointed out.
“No. Because whoever it was must have told her some very plausible story. She would always listen. And so, she sat down again at the desk—perhaps to look for her chequebook—because she was unsuspicious—so he had the chance to snatch up the poker and hit her. Perhaps, even, he did not mean to kill her. He just wanted to stun her and look for money and jewellery and go.”
“He didn’t look very far—just turned out a few drawers.”
“Perhaps he heard sounds in the house—or lost his nerve. Or found, perhaps, that he had killed her. And so, quickly, in panic, he goes.”
She leaned forward.
Her eyes were both frightened and pleading.
“It must have been like that—it must!”
He was interested in her insistence. Was it fear for herself? She could have killed her employer there and then, pulling out the drawers to lend verisimilitude to the idea of a burglar. Medical evidence could not put the time of death closer than between seven and seven-thirty.
“It seems as though it must be so,” he acquiesced pleasantly. A faint sigh of relief escaped her. She sat back. He turned to the Durrants.
“You didn’t hear anything, either of you?”
“Not a thing.”
“I took a tray with tea up to our room,” said Mary. “It’s rather shut off from the rest of the house. We were there until we heard someone screaming. It was Kirsten. She’d just found Mother dead.”
“You didn’t leave the room at all until then?”
“No.” Her limpid gaze met his. “We were playing picquet.”
Philip wondered why he felt slightly discomposed. Polly was doing what he had told her to do. Perhaps it was the perfection of her manner, calm, unhurried, carrying complete conviction.
“Polly, love, you’re a wonderful liar!” he thought.
“And I, Superintendent,” he said, “was then, and am still, quite incapable of any comings and goings.”
“But you’re a good deal better, aren’t you, Mr. Durrant,” said the superintendent cheerfully. “One of these days we’ll have you walking again.”
“It’s a long job.”
Huish turned towards the other two members of the family who up to now had sat without making a sound. Micky had sat with his arms folded and a faint sneer on his face. Tina, small and graceful, leaned back in her chair, her eyes moving occasionally from face to face.
“Neither of you two were in the house, I know,” he said. “But perhaps you’ll just refresh my memory as to what you were doing that evening?”
“Does your memory really need refreshing?” asked Micky with his sneer even more pronounced. “I can still say my piece. I was out testing a car. Clutch trouble. I gave it a good long test. From Drymouth up Minchin Hill, along the Moor Road and back through Ipsley. Unfortunately cars are dumb, they can’t testify.”
Tina had turned her head at last. She was staring straight at Micky. Her face was still expressionless.
“And you, Miss Argyle? You work at the library at Redmyn?”
“Yes. It closes at half past five. I did a little shopping in the High Street. Then I went home. I have a flat—flatlet really—in Morecombe Mansions. I cooked my own supper and enjoyed a quiet evening playing gramophone records.”
“You didn’t go out at all?”
There was a slight pause before she said:
“No, I didn’t go out.”
“Quite sure about that, Miss Argyle?”
“Yes. I am sure.”
“You have a car, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“She has a bubble,” said Micky. “Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble.”
“I have a bubble, yes,” said Tina, grave and composed.
“Where do you keep it?”
“In the street. I have no garage. There is a side street near the flats. There are cars parked all along it.”
“And you’ve—nothing helpful you can tell us?”
Huish hardly knew himself why he was so insistent.
“I do not think there is anything I could possibly tell you.”
Micky threw her a quick glance.
Huish sighed.
“I’m afraid