Spider's Web - Agatha Christie [52]
‘It was just an antique shop,’ Hugo replied, vaguely.
‘Yes, I know that,’ Clarissa exclaimed impatiently. ‘But what was it called?’
‘What do you mean–“what was it called”?’
‘Oh, dear, you are being difficult,’ Clarissa told him. ‘You said it earlier, and I want you to say it again. But I don’t want to tell you to say it, or say it for you.’
Hugo, Jeremy and Sir Rowland all looked at one another. ‘Do you know what the blazes the girl is getting at, Roly?’ Hugo asked plaintively.
‘I’ve no idea,’ replied Sir Rowland. ‘Try us again, Clarissa.’
Clarissa looked exasperated. ‘It’s perfectly simple,’ she insisted. ‘What was the name of the antique shop in Maidstone?’
‘It hadn’t got a name,’ Hugo replied. ‘I mean, antique shops aren’t called “Seaview” or anything.’
‘Heaven give me patience,’ Clarissa muttered between clenched teeth. Speaking slowly and distinctly, and pausing after each word, she asked him again, ‘What–was–written–up–over–the–door?’
‘Written up? Nothing,’ said Hugo. ‘What should be written up? Only the names of the owners, “Sellon and Brown”, of course.’
‘At last,’ Clarissa cried jubilantly. ‘I thought that was what you said before, but I wasn’t sure. Sellon and Brown. My name is Hailsham-Brown.’ She looked at the three men in turn, but they merely stared back at her with total incomprehension written on their faces.
‘We got this house dirt cheap,’ Clarissa continued. ‘Other people who came to see it before us were asked such an exorbitant rent that they went away in disgust. Now have you got it?’
Hugo looked at her blankly before replying, ‘No.’
Jeremy shook his head. ‘Not yet, my love.’
Sir Rowland looked at her keenly. ‘In a glass darkly,’ he said thoughtfully.
Clarissa’s face wore a look of intense excitement. ‘Mr Sellon’s partner who lives in London is a woman,’ she explained to her friends. ‘Today, someone rang up here and asked to speak to Mrs Brown. Not Mrs Hailsham-Brown, just Mrs Brown.’
‘I see what you’re getting at,’ Sir Rowland said, nodding his head slowly.
Hugo shook his head. ‘I don’t,’ he admitted.
Clarissa looked at him. ‘A horse chestnut or a chestnut horse–one of them makes all the difference,’ she observed inscrutably.
‘You’re not delirious or anything, are you, Clarissa?’ Hugo asked her anxiously.
‘Somebody killed Oliver,’ Clarissa reminded them. ‘It wasn’t any of you three. It wasn’t me or Henry.’ She paused, before continuing, ‘And it wasn’t Pippa, thank God. Then who was it?’
‘Surely it’s as I said to the Inspector,’ Sir Rowland suggested. ‘An outside job. Someone followed Oliver here.’
‘Yes, but why did they?’ Clarissa asked meaningfully. Getting no reply from anyone, she continued with her speculation. ‘When I left you all at the gate today,’ she reminded her three friends, ‘I came back in through the French windows, and Oliver was standing here. He was very surprised to see me. He said, “What are you doing here, Clarissa?” I just thought it was an elaborate way of annoying me. But suppose it was just what it seemed?’
Her hearers looked attentive, but said nothing. Clarissa continued, ‘Just suppose that he was surprised to see me. He thought the house belonged to someone else. He thought the person he’d find here would be the Mrs Brown who was Mr Sellon’s partner.’
Sir Rowland shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t he know that you and Henry had this house?’ he asked her. ‘Wouldn’t Miranda know?’
‘When Miranda has to communicate, she always does it through her lawyers. Neither she nor Oliver necessarily knew that we lived in this house,’ Clarissa explained. ‘I tell you, I’m sure Oliver Costello had no idea he was going to see me. Oh, he recovered pretty quickly and made the excuse that he’d come to talk about Pippa. Then he pretended to go away, but he came back because–’
She broke off as Miss Peake came in through the hall door. ‘The hunt’s still on,’ the gardener announced briskly. ‘They’ve looked under all the beds, I gather, and now they’re out in the grounds.’ She gave her familiar hearty laugh.
Clarissa looked at her keenly. Then, ‘Miss Peake,’ she said,