The Mirror Crack'd - Agatha Christie [27]
‘I know someone living there,’ he said. ‘At St Mary Mead. An old lady. A very old lady by now. Perhaps she’s dead, I don’t know. But if not —’
The assistant commissioner took his subordinate’s point, or at any rate he thought he did.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it would give you an “in” in a way. One needs a bit of local gossip. The whole thing is a curious business.’
‘The County have called us in?’ Dermot asked.
‘Yes. I’ve got the chief constable’s letter here. They don’t seem to feel that it’s necessarily a local affair. The largest house in the neighbourhood, Gossington Hall, was recently sold as a residence for Marina Gregg, the film star, and her husband. They’re shooting a film at their new studios, at Hellingforth, in which she is starring. A fête was held in the grounds in aid of the St John Ambulance. The dead woman — her name is Mrs Heather Badcock — was the local secretary of this and had done most of the administrative work for the fête. She seems to have been a competent, sensible person, well liked locally.’
‘One of those bossy women?’ suggested Craddock.
‘Very possibly,’ said the assistant commissioner. ‘Still in my experience, bossy women seldom get themselves murdered. I can’t think why not. When you come to think of it, it’s rather a pity. There was a record attendance at the fête, it seems, good weather, everything running to plan. Marina Gregg and her husband held a kind of small private reception in Gossington Hall. About thirty or forty people attended this. The local notables, various people connected with the St John Ambulance Association, several friends of Marina Gregg herself, and a few people connected with the studios. All very peaceful, nice and happy. But, fantastically and improbably, Heather Badcock was poisoned there.’
Dermot Craddock said thoughtfully, ‘An odd place to choose.’
‘That’s the chief constable’s point of view. If anyone wanted to poison Heather Badcock, why choose that particular afternoon and circumstances? Hundreds of much simpler ways of doing it. A risky business anyway, you know, to slip a dose of deadly poison into a cocktail in the middle of twenty or thirty people milling about. Somebody ought to have seen something.’
‘It definitely was in the drink?’
‘Yes, it was definitely in the drink. We have the particulars here. One of those inexplicable names that doctors delight in, but actually a fairly common prescription in America.’
‘In America. I see.’
‘Oh, this country too. But these things are handed out much more freely on the other side of the Atlantic. Taken in small doses, beneficial.’
‘Supplied on prescription or can it be bought freely?’
‘No. You have to have a prescription.’
‘Yes, it’s odd,’ said Dermot. ‘Heather Badcock have any connection with these film people?’
‘None whatever.’
‘Any member of her own family at this do?’
‘Her husband.’
‘Her husband,’ said Dermot thoughtfully.
‘Yes, one always thinks that way,’ agreed his superior officer, ‘but the local man — Cornish, I think his name is — doesn’t seem to think there’s anything in that, although he does report that Badcock seemed ill at ease and nervous, but he agrees that respectable people often are like that when interviewed by the police. They appear to have been quite a devoted couple.’
‘In other words, the police there don’t think it’s their pigeon. Well, it ought to be interesting. I take it I’m going down there, sir?’
‘Yes. Better get there as soon as possible, Dermot. Who do you want with you?’
Dermot considered for a moment or two.
‘Tiddler, I think,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘He’s a good man and, what’s more, he’s a film star. That might come in useful.’
The assistant commissioner nodded. ‘Good luck to you,’ he said.
II
‘Well!’ exclaimed Miss Marple, going pink with pleasure and surprise. ‘This is a surprise. How are you, my dear boy — though you’re hardly a boy now. What are you — a Chief-Inspector or this new thing they call a Commander?’
Dermot explained his present rank.
‘I suppose I need