Secret of Chimneys - Agatha Christie [49]
‘Well, his plan seems to have succeeded, anyhow,’ observed Anthony. ‘Here am I, the James McGrath he had in mind, and here are you being agreeable to me.’
‘But alas, for poor old George, no memoirs! Now I’ve got a question for you. When I said I hadn’t written those letters, you said you knew I hadn’t–you couldn’t know any such thing?’
‘Oh, yes, I could,’ said Anthony, smiling. ‘I’ve got a good working knowledge of psychology.’
‘You mean your belief in the sterling worth of my moral character was such that–’
But Anthony was shaking his head vigorously.
‘Not at all. I don’t know anything about your moral character. You might have a lover, and you might write to him. But you’d never lie down to be blackmailed. The Virginia Revel of those letters was scared stiff. You’d have fought.’
‘I wonder who the real Virginia Revel is–where she is, I mean. It makes me feel as though I had a double somewhere.’
Anthony lit a cigarette.
‘You know that one of the letters was written from Chimneys?’ he asked at last.
‘What?’ Virginia was clearly startled. ‘When was it written?’
‘It wasn’t dated. But it’s odd, isn’t it?’
‘I’m perfectly certain no other Virginia Revel has ever stayed at Chimneys. Bundle or Lord Caterham would have said something about the coincidence of the name if she had.’
‘Yes. It’s rather queer. Do you know, Mrs Revel, I am beginning to disbelieve profoundly in this other Virginia Revel.’
‘She’s very elusive,’ agreed Virginia.
‘Extraordinarily elusive. I am beginning to think that the person who wrote those letters deliberately used your name.’
‘But why?’ cried Virginia. ‘Why should they do such a thing?’
‘Ah, that’s just the question. There’s the devil of a lot to find out about everything.’
‘Who do you really think killed Michael?’ asked Virginia suddenly. ‘The Comrades of the Red Hand?’
‘I suppose they might have done so,’ said Anthony in a dissatisfied voice. ‘Pointless killing would be rather characteristic of them.’
‘Let’s get to work,’ said Virginia. ‘I see Lord Caterham and Bundle strolling together. The first thing to do is to find out definitely whether the dead man is Michael or not.’
‘Anthony paddled to shore and a few moments later they had joined Lord Caterham and his daughter.
‘Lunch is late,’ said his lordship in a depressed voice.
‘Battle has insulted the cook, I expect.’
‘This is a friend of mine, Bundle,’ said Virginia. ‘Be nice to him.’
Bundle looked earnestly at Anthony for some minutes, and then addressed a remark to Virginia as though he had not been there.
‘Where do you pick up these nice-looking men, Virginia? “How do you do it?” says she enviously.’
‘You can have him,’ said Virginia generously. ‘I want Lord Caterham.’
She smiled upon the flattered peer, slipped her hand through his arm and they moved off together.
‘Do you talk?’ asked Bundle. ‘Or are you just strong and silent?’
‘Talk?’ said Anthony. ‘I babble. I murmur. I burble –like the running brook, you know. Sometimes I even ask questions.’
‘As, for instance?’
‘Who occupies the second room on the left from the end?’
He pointed to it as he spoke.
‘What an extraordinary question!’ said Bundle. ‘You intrigue me greatly. Let me see–yes–that’s Mademoiselle Brun’s room. The French governess. She endeavours to keep my young sisters in order. Dulcie and Daisy–like the song, you know. I dare say they’d have called the next one Dorothy May. But mother got tired of having nothing but girls and died. Thought someone else could take on the job of providing an heir.’
‘Mademoiselle Brun,’ said Anthony thoughtfully. ‘How long has she been with you?’
‘Two months. She came to us when we were in Scotland.’
‘Ha!’ said Anthony. ‘I smell a rat.’
‘I wish I could smell some lunch,’ said Bundle. ‘Do I ask the Scotland Yard man to have lunch with us, Mr Cade? You’re a man of the world, you know about the etiquette of such things. We’ve never had a murder in the