Poirot investigates - Agatha Christie [68]
‘Crabtree Manor, in spite of its name, is really only an old farmhouse. Farming was in my uncle’s blood, and he was intensely interested in various modern farming experiments. Although kindness itself to me, he had certain peculiar and deeply-rooted ideas as to the upbringing of women. Himself a man of little or no education, though possessing remarkable shrewdness, he placed little value on what he called “book knowledge”. He was especially opposed to the education of women. In his opinion, girls should learn practical housework and dairy-work, be useful about the home, and have as little to do with book learning as possible. He proposed to bring me up on these lines, to my bitter disappointment and annoyance. I rebelled frankly. I knew that I possessed a good brain, and had absolutely no talent for domestic duties. My uncle and I had many bitter arguments on the subject, for, though much attached to each other, we were both self-willed. I was lucky enough to win a scholarship, and up to a certain point was successful in getting my own way. The crisis arose when I resolved to go to Girton. I had a little money of my own, left me by my mother, and I was quite determined to make the best use of the gifts God had given me. I had one long, final argument with my uncle. He put the facts plainly before me. He had no other relations, and he had intended me to be his sole heiress. As I have told you, he was a very rich man. If I persisted in these “new-fangled notions” of mine, however, I need look for nothing from him. I remained polite, but firm. I should always be deeply attached to him, I told him, but I must lead my own life. We parted on that note. “You fancy your brains, my girl,” were his last words. “I’ve no book learning, but, for all that, I’ll pit mine against yours any day. We’ll see what we shall see.”’
‘That was nine years ago. I have stayed with him for a weekend occasionally, and our relations were perfectly amicable, though his views remained unaltered. He never referred to my having matriculated, nor to my BSc. For the last three years his health had been failing, and a month ago he died.
‘I am now coming to the point of my visit. My uncle left a most extraordinary will. By its terms, Crabtree Manor and its contents are to be at my disposal for a year from his death–“during which time my clever niece may prove her wits”, the actual words run. At the end of that period, “my wits having been proved better than hers”, the house and all my uncle’s large fortune pass to various charitable institutions.’
‘That is a little hard on you, mademoiselle, seeing that you were Mr Marsh’s only blood relation.’
‘I do not look on it in that way. Uncle Andrew warned me fairly, and I chose my own path. Since I would not fall in with his wishes, he was at perfect liberty to leave his money to whom he pleased.’
‘Was the will drawn up by a lawyer?’
‘No; it was written on a printed will-form and witnessed by the man and his wife who live at the house and do for my uncle.’
‘There might be a possibility of upsetting such a will?’
‘I would not even attempt to do such a thing.’
‘You regard it then as a sporting challenge on the part of your uncle?’
‘That is exactly how I look upon it.’
‘It bears that interpretation, certainly,’ said Poirot thoughtfully. ‘Somewhere in this rambling old manor-house your uncle has concealed either a sum of money in notes or possibly a second will, and has given you a year in which to exercise your ingenuity to find it.’
‘Exactly, Monsieur Poirot; and I am paying you the compliment of assuming that your ingenuity will be greater than mine.’
‘Eh, eh! but that is very charming of you. My grey