Postern of Fate (Tommy and Tuppence Series) - Agatha Christie [67]
‘Yes,’ said Tuppence.
‘She felt that though she was getting on good terms with Mr Durrance nothing was coming of it.
‘I don’t suppose you’d have any photographs of someone called–I think her name was Mary Jordan. Some name like that. But it was a long time ago. About–oh, I suppose sixty years. I think she died here.’
‘Well, it’d be well before my time,’ said Mr Durrance. ‘Father kept a good many things. You know, he was one of those–hoarders, they call them. Never wanted to throw anything away. Anyone he’d known he’d remember, especially if there was a history about it. Mary Jordan. I seem to remember something about her. Something to do with the Navy, wasn’t it, and a submarine? And they said she was a spy, wasn’t she? She was half foreign. Had a Russian mother or a German mother–might have been a Japanese mother or something like that.’
‘Yes. I just wondered if you had any pictures of her.’
‘Well, I don’t think so. I’ll have a look around some time when I’ve got a little time. I’ll let you know if anything turns up. Perhaps you’re a writer, are you?’ he said hopefully.
‘Well,’ said Tuppence, ‘I don’t make a whole-time job of it, but I am thinking of bringing out a rather small book. You know, recalling the times of about anything from a hundred years ago down till today. You know, curious things that have happened including crimes and adventures. And, of course, old photographs are very interesting and would illustrate the book beautifully.’
‘Well, I’ll do everything I can to help you, I’m sure. Must be quite interesting, what you’re doing. Quite interesting to do, I mean.’
‘There were some people called Parkinson,’ said Tuppence. ‘I think they lived in our house once.’
‘Ah, you come from the house up on the hill, don’t you? The Laurels or Katmandu–I can’t remember what it was called last. Swallow’s Nest it was called once, wasn’t it? Can’t think why.’
‘I suppose there were a lot of swallows nesting in the roof,’ suggested Tuppence. ‘There still are.’
‘Well, may have been, I suppose. But it seems a funny name for a house.’
Tuppence, having felt that she’d opened relations satisfactorily, though not hoping very much that any result would come of it, bought a few postcards and some flowered notes in the way of stationery, and wished Mr Durrance goodbye, got back to the gate, walked up the drive, then checked herself on the way to the house and went up the side path round it to have one more look at KK. She got near the door. She stopped suddenly, then walked on. It looked as though something like a bundle of clothes was lying near the door. Something they’d pulled out of Mathilde and not thought to look at, Tuppence wondered.
She quickened her pace, almost running. When she got near the door she stopped suddenly. It was not a bundle of old clothes. The clothes were old enough, and so was the body that wore them. Tuppence bent over and then stood up again, steadied herself with a hand on the door.
‘Isaac!’ she said. ‘Isaac. Poor old Isaac. I believe–oh, I do believe that he’s dead.’
Somebody was coming towards her on the path from the house as she called out, taking a step or two.
‘Oh, Albert, Albert. Something awful’s happened. Isaac, old Isaac. He’s lying there and he’s dead and I think–I think somebody has killed him.’
Chapter 7
The Inquest
The medical evidence had been given. Two passers-by not far from the gate had given their evidence. The family had spoken, giving evidence as to the state of his health, any possible people who had had reason for enmity towards him (one or two youngish adolescent boys who had before now been warned off by him) had been asked to assist the police and had protested their innocence. One or two of his employers had spoken including his latest employer, Mrs Prudence Beresford, and her husband, Mr Thomas Beresford. All had been said and done and a verdict had been brought in: Wilful Murder by a person or persons unknown.
Tuppence came out from the inquest and Tommy put an arm round her as they passed the little group of people waiting outside.
‘You did very