Pocket Full of Rye - Agatha Christie [40]
He merely said brusquely:
“Now—to recapitulate times and places: the last time you saw Gladys Martin was in the hall before tea, and that was at twenty minutes to five?”
“Yes—I told her to bring in tea.”
“You yourself were coming from where?”
“From upstairs—I thought I had heard the telephone a few minutes before.”
“Gladys, presumably, had answered the telephone?”
“Yes. It was a wrong number. Someone who wanted the Baydon Heath Laundry.”
“And that was the last time you saw her?”
“She brought the tea tray into the library about ten minutes or so later.”
“After that Miss Elaine Fortescue came in?”
“Yes, about three or four minutes later. Then I went up to tell Mrs. Percival tea was ready.”
“Did you usually do that?”
“Oh no—people came in to tea when they pleased—but Mrs. Fortescue asked where everybody was. I thought I heard Mrs. Percival coming—but that was a mistake—”
Neele interrupted. Here was something new.
“You mean you heard someone upstairs moving about?”
“Yes—at the head of the stairs, I thought. But no one came down so I went up. Mrs. Percival was in her bedroom. She had just come in. She had been out for a walk—”
“Out for a walk—I see. The time being then—”
“Oh—nearly five o’clock, I think—”
“And Mr. Lancelot Fortescue arrived—when?”
“A few minutes after I came downstairs again—I thought he had arrived earlier—but—”
Inspector Neele interrupted:
“Why did you think he had arrived earlier?”
“Because I thought I had caught sight of him through the landing window.”
“In the garden, you mean?”
“Yes—I caught a glimpse of someone through the yew hedge—and I thought it would probably be him.”
“This was when you were coming down after telling Mrs. Percival Fortescue tea was ready?”
Mary corrected him.
“No—not then—it was earlier—when I came down the first time.”
Inspector Neele stared.
“Are you sure about that, Miss Dove?”
“Yes, I’m perfectly sure. That’s why I was surprised to see him—when he actually did ring the bell.”
Inspector Neele shook his head. He kept his inner excitement out of his voice as he said:
“It couldn’t have been Lancelot Fortescue you saw in the garden. His train—which was due at 4:28, was nine minutes late. He arrived at Baydon Heath Station at 4:37. He had to wait a few minutes for a taxi—that train is always very full. It was actually nearly a quarter to five (five minutes after you had seen the man in the garden) when he left the station and it is a ten-minute drive. He paid off the taxi at the gate here at about five minutes to five at the earliest. No—it wasn’t Lancelot Fortescue you saw.”
“I’m sure I did see someone.”
“Yes, you saw someone. It was getting dark. You couldn’t have seen the man clearly?”
“Oh no—I couldn’t see his face or anything like that—just his build—tall and slender. We were expecting Lancelot Fortescue—so I jumped to the conclusion that that’s who it was.”
“He was going—which way?”
“Along behind the yew hedge towards the east side of the house.”
“There is a side door there. Is it kept locked?”
“Not until the house is locked up for the night.”
“Anyone could have come in by that side door without being observed by any of the household.”
Mary Dove considered.
“I think so. Yes.” She added quickly: “You mean—the person I heard later upstairs could have come in that way? Could have been hiding—upstairs?”
“Something of the kind.”
“But who—?”
“That remains to be seen. Thank you, Miss Dove.”
As she turned to go away Inspector Neele said in a casual voice: “By the way, you can’t tell me anything about blackbirds, I suppose?”
For the first time, so it seemed, Mary Dove was taken aback. She turned back sharply.
“I—what did you say?”
“I was just asking you about blackbirds.”
“Do you mean—”
“Blackbirds,” said Inspector Neele.
He had on his most stupid expression.
“You mean that silly business last summer? But surely that can’t . . .” She broke off.
Inspector Neele said pleasantly:
“There’s been a bit of talk about it, but I was sure I’d get