Sleeping Murder - Agatha Christie [64]
Yours truly,
James Kennedy.
“There was no question of her coming by an earlier train?”
“An earlier train?” Dr. Kennedy looked astonished.
“Because that’s what she did. She left Coombeleigh, not at three thirty but at one thirty—caught the two-five from Dillmouth Junction and got out, not at Woodleigh Bolton, but at Matchings Halt, the station before it.”
“But that’s extraordinary!”
“Was she consulting you professionally, Doctor?”
“No. I retired from practice some years ago.”
“That’s what I thought. You knew her well?”
Kennedy shook his head.
“I hadn’t seen her for nearly twenty years.”
“But you—er—recognized her just now?”
Gwenda shivered, but dead bodies did not affect a doctor and Kennedy replied thoughtfully: “Under the circumstances it is hard to say if I recognized her or not. She was strangled, I presume?”
“She was strangled. The body was found in a copse a short way along the track leading from Matchings Halt to Woodleigh Camp. It was found by a hiker coming down from the Camp at about ten minutes to four. Our police surgeon puts the time of death at between two fifteen and three o’clock. Presumably she was killed shortly after she left the station. No other passenger got out at Matchings Halt. She was the only person to get out of the train there.
“Now why did she get out at Matchings Halt? Did she mistake the station? I hardly think so. In any case she was two hours early for her appointment with you, and had not come by the train you suggested, although she had your letter with her.
“Now just what was her business with you, Doctor?”
Dr. Kennedy felt in his pocket and brought out Lily’s letter.
“I brought this with me. The enclosed cutting and the insertion put in the local paper by Mr. and Mrs. Reed here.”
Inspector Last read Lily Kimble’s letter and the enclosure. Then he looked from Dr. Kennedy to Giles and Gwenda.
“Can I have the story behind all this? It goes back a long way, I gather?”
“Eighteen years,” said Gwenda.
Piecemeal, with additions, and parentheses, the story came out. Inspector Last was a good listener. He let the three people in front of him tell things in their own way. Kennedy was dry, and factual, Gwenda was slightly incoherent, but her narrative had imaginative power. Giles gave, perhaps, the most valuable contribution. He was clear and to the point, with less reserve than Kennedy, and with more coherence than Gwenda. It took a long time.
Then Inspector Last sighed and summed up.
“Mrs. Halliday was Dr. Kennedy’s sister and your stepmother, Mrs. Reed. She disappeared from the house you are at present living in eighteen years ago. Lily Kimble (whose maiden name was Abbott) was a servant (house-parlourmaid) in the house at the time. For some reason Lily Kimble inclines (after the passage of years) to the theory that there was foul play. At the time it was assumed that Mrs. Halliday had gone away with a man (identity unknown). Major Halliday died in a mental establishment fifteen years ago still under the delusion that he had strangled his wife—if it was a delusion—”
He paused.
“These are all interesting but somewhat unrelated facts. The crucial point seems to be, is Mrs. Halliday alive or dead? If dead, when did she die? And what did Lily Kimble know?”
“It seems, on the face of it, that she must have known something rather important. So important that she was killed in order to prevent her talking about it.”
Gwenda cried, “But how could anyone possibly know she was going to talk about it—except us?”
Inspector Last turned his thoughtful eyes on her.
“It is a significant point, Mrs. Reed, that she took the two-five instead of the four-five train from Dillmouth Junction. There must be some reason for that.