Sparkling Cyanide - Agatha Christie [65]
Colonel Race begged her to go on and in return for this politeness received the life history of Hector Marle, of his upbringing by his sister, of his peculiarities and his weaknesses and finally, when Colonel Race had almost forgotten her, of his marriage to the beautiful Viola. ‘She was an orphan, you know, and a ward in Chancery.’ He heard how Paul Bennett, conquering his disappointment at Viola’s refusal, had transformed himself from lover to family friend, and of his fondness for his godchild, Rosemary, and of his death and the terms of his will. ‘Which I have always felt most romantic—such an enormous fortune! Not of course that money is everything—no, indeed. One has only to think of poor Rosemary’s tragic death. And even dear Iris I am not quite happy about!’
Race gave her an inquiring look.
‘I find the responsibility most worrying. The fact that she is a great heiress is of course well known. I keep a very sharp eye on the undesirable type of young man, but what can one do, Colonel Race? One can’t look after girls nowadays as one used to do. Iris has friends I know next to nothing about. “Ask them to the house, dear,” is what I always say—but I gather that some of these young men simply will not be brought. Poor George was worried, too. About a young man called Browne. I myself have never seen him, but it seems that he and Iris have been seeing a good deal of each other. And one does feel that she could do better. George didn’t like him—I’m quite sure of that. And I always think, Colonel Race, that men are so much better judges of other men. I remember thinking Colonel Pusey, one of our churchwardens, such a charming man, but my husband always preserved a very distant attitude towards him and enjoined on me to do the same—and sure enough one Sunday when he was handing round the offertory plate, he fell right down—completely intoxicated, it seems. And of course afterwards—one always hears these things afterwards, so much better if one heard them before—we found out that dozens of empty brandy bottles were taken out of the house every week! It was very sad really, because he was truly religious, though inclined to be Evangelical in his views. He and my husband had a terrific battle over the details of the service on All Saints’ Day. Oh, dear, All Saints’ Day. To think that yesterday was All Souls’ Day.’
A faint sound made Race look over Lucilla’s head at the open doorway. He had seen Iris before—at Little Priors. Nevertheless he felt that he was seeing her now for the first time. He was struck by the extraordinary tension behind her stillness and her wide eyes met his with something in their expression that he felt he ought to recognize, yet failed to do so.
In her turn, Lucilla Drake turned her head.
‘Iris, dear, I didn’t hear you come in. You know Colonel Race? He is being so very kind.’
Iris came and shook hands with him gravely, the black dress she wore made her look thinner and paler than he remembered her.
‘I came to see if I could be of any help to you,’ said Race.
‘Thank you. That was kind of you.’
She had had a bad shock, that was evident, and was still suffering from the effects of it. But had she been so fond of George that his death could affect her so powerfully?
She turned her eyes to her aunt and Race realized that they were watchful eyes. She said:
‘What were you talking about—just now, as I came in?’
Lucilla became pink and flustered. Race guessed that she was anxious to avoid any mention of the young man, Anthony Browne. She exclaimed:
‘Now let me see—oh, yes, All Saints’ Day—and yesterday being All Souls’. All Souls’—that seems to me such an odd thing—one of those coincidences one never believes in in real life.’
‘Do you mean,’ said Iris, ‘that Rosemary came back yesterday to fetch George?’
Lucilla gave a little scream.
‘Iris, dear, don’t. What a