Postern of Fate (Tommy and Tuppence Series) - Agatha Christie [54]
‘Mary Jordan,’ said Tommy thoughtfully, as he quoted the words, ‘did not die naturally. He had his suspicions. Wonder if he ever talked to a policeman about them.’
‘You mean Alexander?’
‘Yes–And perhaps because of that he talked too much. He had to die.’
‘A lot depends on Alexander, doesn’t it?’
‘We do know when Alexander died, because of his grave here. But Mary Jordan–we still don’t know when or why.’
‘We’ll find out in the end,’ said Tommy. ‘You make a few lists of names you’ve got and dates and things. You’ll be surprised. Surprised what one can check up through an odd word or two here and there.’
‘You seem to have a lot of useful friends,’ said Tuppence enviously.
‘So do you,’ said Tommy.
‘Well, I don’t really,’ said Tuppence.
‘Yes, you do, you set people in motion,’ said Tommy. ‘You go and see one old lady with a birthday book. The next thing I know you’ve been all through masses of people in an old pensioners’ home or something, and you know all about things that happened at the time of their great-aunts, great-grandmothers and Uncle Johns and godfathers, and perhaps an old Admiral at sea who told tales about espionage and all that. Once we can figure a few dates down and get on with a few enquiries, we might–who knows?–get something.’
‘I wonder who the undergraduates were who were mentioned–Oxford and Cambridge, the ones who were said to have hidden something.’
‘They don’t sound very like espionage,’ said Tommy.
‘No, they don’t really,’ said Tuppence.
‘And doctors and old clergymen,’ said Tommy. ‘One could, I expect, check up on them, but I don’t see it would lead one anywhere. It’s all too far away. We’re not near enough. We don’t know–Has anybody tried anything more funny on you, Tuppence?’
‘Do you mean has anyone attempted my life in the last two days? No, they haven’t. Nobody’s invited me to go on a picnic, the brakes of the car are all right, there’s a jar of weedkiller in the potting shed but it doesn’t even seem to be opened yet.’
‘Isaac keeps it there to be handy in case you come out with some sandwiches one day.’
‘Oh, poor Isaac,’ said Tuppence. ‘You are not to say things against Isaac. He is becoming one of my best friends. Now I wonder–that reminds me–’
‘What does that remind you of?’
‘I can’t remember,’ said Tuppence, blinking her eyes. ‘It reminded me of something when you said that about Isaac.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Tommy and sighed.
‘One old lady,’ said Tuppence, ‘was said to have always put her things in her mittens every night. Earrings, I think it was. That’s the one who thought everyone was poisoning her. And somebody else remembered someone who put things in a missionary box or something. You know, the china thing for the waifs and strays, there was a label stuck on to it. But it wasn’t for the waifs and strays at all, apparently. She used to put five pound notes in it so that she’d always have a nest egg, and when it got too full she used to take it away and buy another box and break the first one.’
‘And spend the five pounds, I suppose,’ said Tommy.
‘I suppose that was the idea. My cousin Emlyn used to say,’ said Tuppence, obviously quoting, ‘nobody’d rob the waifs and strays or missionaries, would they? If anyone smashed a box like that somebody’d notice, wouldn’t they?’
‘You haven’t found any books of rather dull-looking sermons, have you, in your book search in those rooms upstairs?’
‘No. Why?’ asked Tuppence.
‘Well, I just thought that’d be a very good place to hide things in. You know, something really boring written about theology. An old crabbed book with the inside scooped out.’
‘Hasn’t been anything like that,’ said Tuppence. ‘I should have noticed it if there was.’
‘Would you have read it?’
‘Oh, of course I wouldn’t,’ said Tuppence.
‘There you are then,’ said Tommy. ‘You wouldn’t have read it, you’d have just thrown it away, I expect.’
‘The Crown of Success. That’s one book I remember,