Spider's Web - Agatha Christie [30]
‘I think you’d better come in here,’ Jeremy told Miss Peake as he slammed the front door shut. A moment later, the gardener preceded him into the drawing-room, looking as though she had dressed very hastily. She had a towel wrapped around her head.
‘What is all this?’ she wanted to know. ‘Mrs Hailsham-Brown was most mysterious on the phone. Has anything happened?’
Sir Rowland addressed her with the utmost courtesy. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve been routed out like this, Miss Peake,’ he apologized. ‘Do sit down.’ He indicated a chair by the bridge table.
Hugo pulled the chair out for Miss Peake, who thanked him. He then seated himself in a more comfortable easy chair, while Sir Rowland informed the gardener, ‘As a matter of fact, we’ve got the police here, and–’
‘The police?’ Miss Peake interrupted, looking startled. ‘Has there been a burglary?’
‘No, not a burglary, but–’
He stopped speaking as Clarissa, the Inspector and the Constable came back into the room. Jeremy sat on the sofa, while Sir Rowland took up a position behind it.
‘Inspector,’ Clarissa announced, ‘this is Miss Peake.’
The Inspector went across to the gardener. His ‘Good evening, Miss Peake’ was accompanied by a stiff little bow.
‘Good evening, Inspector,’ Miss Peake replied. ‘I was just asking Sir Rowland–has there been a robbery, or what?’
The Inspector regarded her searchingly, allowed a moment or two to elapse, and then spoke. ‘We received a rather peculiar telephone call which brought us out here,’ he told her. ‘And we think that perhaps you might be able to clear up the matter for us.’
Chapter 12
The Inspector’s announcement was greeted by Miss Peake with a jolly laugh. ‘I say, this is mysterious. I am enjoying myself,’ she exclaimed delightedly.
The Inspector frowned. ‘It concerns Mr Costello,’ he explained. ‘Mr Oliver Costello of 27, Morgan Mansions, London SW3. I believe that’s in the Chelsea area.’
‘Never heard of him,’ was Miss Peake’s robustly expressed response.
‘He was here this evening, visiting Mrs Hailsham-Brown,’ the Inspector reminded her, ‘and I believe you showed him out through the garden.’
Miss Peake slapped her thigh. ‘Oh, that man,’ she recalled. ‘Mrs Hailsham-Brown did mention his name.’ She looked at the Inspector with a little more interest. ‘Yes, what do you want to know?’ she asked.
‘I should like to know,’ the Inspector told her, speaking slowly and deliberately, ‘exactly what happened, and when you last saw him.’
Miss Peake thought for a moment before replying. ‘Let me see,’ she said. ‘We went out through the French window, and I told him there was a short cut if he wanted the bus, and he said no, he’d come in his car, and he’d left it round by the stables.’
She beamed at the Inspector as though she expected to be praised for her succinct recollection of what had occurred, but he merely looked thoughtful as he commented, ‘Isn’t that rather an odd place to leave a car?’
‘That’s just what I thought,’ Miss Peake agreed, slapping the Inspector’s arm as she spoke. He looked surprised at this, but she continued, ‘You’d think he’d drive right up to the front door, wouldn’t you? But people are so odd. You never know what they’re going to do.’ She gave a hearty guffaw.
‘And then what happened?’ the Inspector asked.
Miss Peake shrugged her shoulders. ‘Well, he went off to his car, and I suppose he drove away,’ she replied.
‘You didn’t see him do so?’
‘No–I was putting my tools away,’ was the gardener’s reply.
‘And that’s the last you saw of him?’ the Inspector asked, with emphasis.
‘Yes, why?’
‘Because his car is still here,’ the Inspector told her. Speaking slowly and emphatically, he continued, ‘A phone-call was put through to the police station at seven forty-nine, saying that a man had been murdered at Copplestone Court.’
Miss Peake looked appalled. ‘Murdered?’ she exclaimed. ‘Here? Ridiculous!’
‘That’s what everybody seems to think,’ the Inspector observed drily, with a significant look at Sir Rowland.
‘Of course,’ Miss Peake went on, ‘I know there are all these maniacs about, attacking