Postern of Fate (Tommy and Tuppence Series) - Agatha Christie [24]
‘Can we get inside it?’ asked Tuppence, trying to apply her eye to a slightly clearer portion of a pane of window. ‘There must be a lot of queer things inside.’
‘Ah well, there’s the key,’ said Isaac. ‘I expect it’s hanging up in the same place.’
‘Where’s the same place?’
‘Ah, there’s a shed round here.’
They went round an adjacent path. The shed was hardly worthy of being called a shed. Isaac kicked its door open, removed various bits of branches of trees, kicked away some rotting apples and, removing an old doormat hanging on the wall, showed three or four rusty keys hanging up on a nail.
‘Lindop’s keys, those,’ he said. ‘Last but one was as living here as gardener. Retired basket-maker, he was. Didn’t do no good at anything. If you’d like to see inside KK–?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Tuppence hopefully. ‘I’d like to see inside KK. How do you spell it?’
‘How do you spell what?’
‘I mean KK. Is it just two letters?’
‘No. I think it was something different. I think it was two foreign words. I seem to remember now K-A-I and then another K-A-I. Kay-Kay, or Kye-Kye almost, they used to say it. I think it was a Japanese word.’
‘Oh,’ said Tuppence. ‘Did any Japanese people ever live here?’
‘Oh no, nothing like that. No. Not that kind of foreigner.’
The application of a little oil, which Isaac seemed to produce and apply quite quickly, had a wonderful effect on the rustiest of the keys which, inserted in the door and turned with a grinding noise, could be pushed open. Tuppence and her guide went in.
‘There you are,’ said Isaac, not displaying any particular pride in the objects within. ‘Nothing but old rubbish, is it?’
‘That’s a rather wonderful-looking horse,’ said Tuppence.
‘That’s Mackild, that is,’ said Isaac.
‘Mack-ild?’ said Tuppence, rather doubtfully.
‘Yes. It’s a woman’s name of some kind. Queen somebody, it was. Somebody said as it was William the Conqueror’s wife but I think they were just boasting about that. Come from America, it did. American godfather brought it to one of the children.’
‘To one of the–?’
‘One of the Bassington children, that was. Before the other lot. I dunno. I suppose it’s all rusted up now.’
Mathilde was a rather splendid-looking horse even in decay. Its length was quite the length of any horse or mare to be found nowadays. Only a few hairs were left of what must once have been a prolific mane. One ear was broken off. It had once been painted grey. Its front legs splayed out in front and its back legs at the back; it had a wispy tail.
‘It doesn’t work like any rocking-horse I’ve ever seen before,’ said Tuppence, interested.
‘No, it don’t, do it?’ said Isaac. ‘You know, they go up and down, up and down, front to back. But this one here, you see–it sort of springs forwards. Once first, the front legs do it–whoop–and then the back legs do it. It’s a very good action. Now if I was to get on it and show you–’
‘Do be careful,’ said Tuppence. ‘It might–there might be nails or something which would stick into you, or you might fall off.’
‘Ah. I’ve ridden on Mathilde, fifty or sixty years ago it must have been, but I remember. And it’s still pretty solid, you know. It’s not really falling to bits yet.’
With a sudden, unexpected, acrobatic action he sprang upon Mathilde. The horse raced forwards, then raced backwards.
‘Got action, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s got action,’ said Tuppence.
‘Ah, they loved that, you know. Miss Jenny, she used to ride it day after day.’
‘Who was Miss Jenny?’
‘Why, she was the eldest one, you know. She was the one that had the godfather as sent her this. Sent her Truelove, too,’ he added.
Tuppence looked at him enquiringly. The remark did not seem to apply to any of the other contents of Kay-Kay.
‘That’s what they call it, you know. That little horse and cart what’s there in the corner. Used to ride it down the hill, Miss