The Mirror Crack'd - Agatha Christie [55]
‘I appreciate your point of view,’ said Craddock.
‘It’s not only that, it’s a matter of fact as well. She was nowhere near Marina’s glass.’
‘And your other visitor — Ardwyck Fenn?’
There was, he thought, a very slight pause before Jason Rudd spoke.
‘He’s a very old friend of ours,’ he said. ‘We haven’t seen him for a good many years now, though we occasionally correspond. He’s quite a big figure in American television.’
‘Was he an old friend of yours too?’ Dermot Craddock asked Marina.
Her breath came rather quickly as she replied. ‘Yes, oh yes. He — he was quite a friend of mine always, but I’ve rather lost sight of him of late years.’ Then with a sudden quick rush of words, she went on, ‘If you think that I looked up and saw Ardwyck and was frightened of him, it’s nonsense. It’s absolute nonsense. Why should I be frightened of him, what reason would I have to be frightened of him? We were great friends. I was just very, very pleased when I suddenly saw him. It was a delightful surprise, as I told you. Yes, a delightful surprise.’ She raised her head, looking at him, her face vivid and defiant.
‘Thank you, Miss Gregg,’ said Craddock quietly. ‘If you should feel inclined at any moment to take me a little further into your confidence I should strongly advise you to do so.’
Chapter 14
I
Mrs Bantry was on her knees. A good day for hoeing. Nice dry soil. But hoeing wouldn’t do everything. Thistles now, and dandelions. She dealt vigorously with these pests.
She rose to her feet, breathless but triumphant, and looked out over the hedge on to the road. She was faintly surprised to see the dark-haired secretary whose name she couldn’t remember coming out of the public call box that was situated near the bus stop on the other side of the road.
What was her name now. It began with a B — or was it an R? No, Zielinsky, that was it. Mrs Bantry remembered just in time, as Ella crossed the road into the drive past the Lodge.
‘Good morning, Miss Zielinsky,’ she called in a friendly tone.
Ella Zielinsky jumped. It was not so much a jump, as a shy — the shy of a frightened horse. It surprised Mrs Bantry.
‘Good morning,’ said Ella, and added quickly: ‘I came down to telephone. There’s something wrong with our line today.’
Mrs Bantry felt more surprise. She wondered why Ella Zielinsky bothered to explain her action. She responded civilly. ‘How annoying for you. Do come in and telephone any time you want to.’
‘Oh — thank you very much…’ Ella was interrupted by a fit of sneezing.
‘You’ve got hay-fever,’ said Mrs Bantry with immediate diagnosis. ‘Try weak bicarbonate of soda and water.’
‘Oh, that’s all right. I have some very good patent stuff in an atomizer. Thank you all the same.’
She sneezed again as she moved away, walking briskly up the drive.
Mrs Bantry looked after her. Then her eyes returned to her garden. She looked at it in a dissatisfied fashion. Not a weed to be seen anywhere.
‘Othello’s occupation’s gone,’ Mrs Bantry murmured to herself confusedly. ‘I dare say I’m a nosy old woman but I would like to know if —’
A moment of irresolution and then Mrs Bantry yielded to temptation. She was going to be a nosy old woman and the hell with it! She strode indoors to the telephone, lifted the receiver and dialled it. A brisk transatlantic voice spoke.
‘Gossington Hall.’
‘This is Mrs Bantry, at the East Lodge.’
‘Oh, good morning, Mrs Bantry. This is Hailey Preston. I met you on the day of the fête. What can I do for you?’
‘I thought perhaps I could do something for you. If your telephone’s out of order —’
His astonished voice interrupted her.
‘Our telephone out of order? There’s been nothing wrong with it. Why did you think so?’
‘I must have made a mistake,’ said Mrs Bantry. ‘I don’t always hear very well,’ she explained unblushingly.
She put the receiver back, waited a minute, then dialled once more.
‘Jane? Dolly here.’
‘Yes, Dolly.