The Sittaford Mystery - Agatha Christie [38]
‘I quite understand. There may possibly be something in the house that may throw light upon this sad business, but I rather doubt it. Captain Trevelyan removed all his personal belongings. He even feared I should tamper with his fishing rods, poor, dear man.’
She laughed a little.
‘You were not acquainted with him?’
‘Before I took the house, you mean? Oh! no. I’ve asked him here several times since, but he never came. Terribly shy, poor dear. That was what was the matter with him. I’ve known dozens of men like it. They are called women haters and all sorts of silly things, and really all the time it’s only shyness. If I could have got at him,’ said Mrs Willett with determination, ‘I’d soon have got over all that nonsense. That sort of man only wants bringing out.’
Inspector Narracott began to understand Captain Trevelyan’s strongly defensive attitude towards his tenants.
‘We both asked him,’ continued Mrs Willett. ‘Didn’t we, Violet?’
‘Oh! yes, Mother.’
‘A real simple sailor at heart,’ said Mrs Willett. ‘Every woman loves a sailor, Inspector Narracott.’
It occurred to Inspector Narracott at this juncture that the interview so far had been run entirely by Mrs Willett. He was convinced that she was an exceedingly clever woman. She might be as innocent as she appeared. On the other hand she might not.
‘The point I am anxious to get information about is this,’ he said and paused.
‘Yes, Inspector?’
‘Major Burnaby, as you doubtless know, discovered the body. He was led to do so by an accident that occurred in this house.’
‘You mean?’
‘I mean, the table-turning. I beg your pardon—’
He turned sharply.
A faint sound had come from the girl.
‘Poor Violet,’ said her mother. ‘She was terribly upset—indeed we all were! Most unaccountable. I’m not superstitious, but really it was the most unaccountable thing.’
‘It did occur then?’
Mrs Willett opened her eyes very wide.
‘Occur? Of course it occurred. At the time I thought it was a joke—a most unfeeling joke and one in very bad taste. I suspected young Ronald Garfield—’
‘Oh! no, Mother. I’m sure he didn’t. He absolutely swore he didn’t.’
‘I’m saying what I thought at the time, Violet. What could one think it but a joke?’
‘It was curious,’ said the Inspector slowly. ‘You were very upset, Mrs Willett?’
‘We all were. Up to then it had been, oh, just light-hearted fooling. You know the sort of thing. Good fun on a winter’s evening. And then suddenly—this! I was very angry.’
‘Angry?’
‘Well, naturally. I thought someone was doing it deliberately—for a joke, as I say.’
‘And now?’
‘Now?’
‘Yes, what do you think now?’
Mrs Willett spread her hands out expressively.
‘I don’t know what to think. It—it’s uncanny.’
‘And you, Miss Willett?’
‘I?’
The girl started.
‘I—I don’t know. I shall never forget it. I dream of it. I shall never dare to do table-turning again.’
‘Mr Rycroft would say it was genuine, I suppose,’ said her mother. ‘He believes in all that sort of thing. Really I’m inclined to believe in it myself. What other explanation is there except that it was a genuine message from a spirit?’
The Inspector shook his head. The table-turning had been his red herring. His next remark was most casual sounding.
‘Don’t you find it very bleak here in winter, Mrs Willett?’
‘Oh, we love it. Such a change. We’re South Africans, you know.’
Her tone was brisk and ordinary.
‘Really? What part of South Africa?’
‘Oh! the Cape. Violet has never been in England before. She is enchanted with it—finds the snow most romantic. This house is really most comfortable.’
‘What led you to come to this part of the world?’
There was just gentle curiosity in his voice.
‘We’ve read so many books on Devonshire, and especially on Dartmoor. We were reading one on the boat—all about Widdecombe Fair. I’ve always had a hankering to see Dartmoor.’
‘What made you fix on Exhampton? It’s not a very well known little town.’
‘Well—we were reading these books as I told you, and there was a boy on board who talked about Exhampton—he was so enthusiastic