The Mirror Crack'd - Agatha Christie [78]
‘Yes?’ said Craddock. It seemed plain there was more to come.
‘But word went round as Mr Rudd didn’t throw it all away. He kept some and had it analysed and it was poison.’
‘It sounds to me,’ said Craddock, ‘very unlikely. I’ll have to ask him about that.’
II
Jason Rudd was nervous, irritable.
‘Surely, Inspector Craddock,’ he said, ‘I was only doing what I had a perfect right to do.’
‘If you suspected anything was wrong with that coffee, Mr Rudd, it would have been much better if you’d turned it over to us.’
‘The truth of it is that I didn’t suspect for a moment that anything was wrong with it.’
‘In spite of your wife saying that it tasted odd?’
‘Oh, that!’ A faintly rueful smile came to Rudd’s face. ‘Ever since the date of the fête everything that my wife has eaten or drunk has tasted odd. What with that and the threatening notes that have been coming —’
‘There have been more of them?’
‘Two more. One through the window down there. The other one was slipped in the letter-box. Here they are if you would like to see them.’
Craddock looked. They were printed, as the first one had been. One ran:
It won’t be long now. Prepare yourself.
The other had a rough drawing of a skull and crossbones and below it was written: This means you, Marina.
Craddock’s eyebrows rose.
‘Very childish,’ he said.
‘Meaning you discount them as dangerous?’
‘Not at all,’ said Craddock. ‘A murderer’s mind usually is childish. You’ve really no idea at all, Mr Rudd, who sent these?’
‘Not the least,’ said Jason. ‘I can’t help feeling it’s more like a macabre joke than anything else. It seemed to me perhaps —’ he hesitated.
‘Yes, Mr Rudd?’
‘It could be somebody local, perhaps, who — who had been excited by the poisoning on the day of the fête. Someone perhaps, who has a grudge against the acting profession. There are rural pockets where acting is considered to be one of the devil’s weapons.’
‘Meaning that you think Miss Gregg is not actually threatened? But what about this business of the coffee?’
‘I don’t even know how you got to hear about that,’ said Rudd with some annoyance.
Craddock shook his head.
‘Everyone’s talked about that. It always comes to one’s ears sooner or later. But you should have come to us. Even when you got the result of the analysis you didn’t let us know, did you?’
‘No,’ said Jason. ‘No, I didn’t. But I had other things to think about. Poor Ella’s death for one thing. And now this business of Giuseppe. Inspector Craddock, when can I get my wife away from here? She’s half frantic.’
‘I can understand that. But there will be the inquests to attend.’
‘You do realize that her life is still in danger?’
‘I hope not. Every precaution will be taken —’
‘Every precaution! I’ve heard that before, I think…I must get her away from here, Craddock. I must.’
III
Marina was lying on the chaise-longue in her bedroom, her eyes closed. She looked grey with strain and fatigue.
Her husband stood there for a moment looking at her. Her eyes opened.
‘Was that that Craddock man?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he come about? Ella?’
‘Ella — and Giuseppe.’
Marina frowned.
‘Giuseppe? Have they found out who shot him?’
‘Not yet.’
‘It’s all a nightmare…Did he say we could go away?’
‘He said — not yet.’
‘Why not? We must. Didn’t you make him see that I can’t go on waiting day after day for someone to kill me. It’s fantastic.’
‘Every precaution will be taken.’
‘They said that before. Did it stop Ella being killed? Or Giuseppe? Don’t you see, they’ll get me in the end…There was something in my coffee that day at the studio. I’m sure there was…if only you hadn’t poured it away! If we’d kept it, we could have had it analysed or whatever you call it. We’d have known for sure…’
‘Would it have made you happier to know for sure?’
She stared at him, the pupils of her eyes widely dilated.
‘I don’t see what you mean. If they’d known