The Sittaford Mystery - Agatha Christie [62]
‘The police, no, why would they?’
‘Well, I wondered. Seeing Inspector Narracott in Sittaford this morning.’
Ronnie dropped his stick with a clatter and stooped to pick it up.
‘Who did you say was in Sittaford this morning—Inspector Narracott?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is he—is he the man in charge of the Trevelyan case?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What was he doing in Sittaford? Where did you see him?’
‘Oh, I suppose he was just nosing about,’ said Charles, ‘checking up Captain Trevelyan’s past life so to speak.’
‘You think that’s all?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘He doesn’t think anyone in Sittaford had anything to do with it?’
‘That would be very unlikely, wouldn’t it?’
‘Oh, frightfully. But then you know what the police are—always butting in on the wrong tack. At least that’s what it says in detective novels.’
‘I think they are really rather an intelligent body of men,’ said Charles. ‘Of course, the Press does a lot to help them.’ he added. ‘But if you really read a case carefully it’s amazing the way they track down murderers with practically no evidence to go on.’
‘Oh—well—it’s nice to know that, isn’t it? They have certainly got on to this man Pearson pretty quick. It seems a pretty clear case.’
‘Crystal clear,’ said Charles. ‘A good thing it wasn’t you or me, eh? Well, I must be sending off a few wires. They don’t seem very used to telegrams in this place. If you send more than half a crown’s worth at one go they seem to think you are an escaped lunatic.’
Charles sent his telegrams, bought a packet of cigarettes, a few doubtful-looking bull’s eyes and two very aged paper-backed novelettes. He then returned to the cottage, threw himself on his bed and slept peacefully, blissfully unaware that he and his affairs, particularly Miss Emily Trefusis, were being discussed in various places all around him.
It is fairly safe to say that there were only three topics of conversation at present in Sittaford. One was the murder, one was the escape of the convict, and the other was Miss Emily Trefusis and her cousin. Indeed at a certain moment, four separate conversations were going on with her as their main theme.
Conversation No. I was at Sittaford House, where Violet Willett and her mother had just washed up their own tea things owing to the domestic retreat.
‘It was Mrs Curtis who told me,’ said Violet.
She still looked pale and wan.
‘It’s almost a disease the way that woman talks,’ said her mother.
‘I know. It seems the girl is actually stopping there with a cousin or something. She did mention this morning that she was at Mrs Curtis’s, but I thought that that was simply because Miss Percehouse hadn’t room for her. And now it seems that she’d never even seen Miss Percehouse till this morning!’
‘I dislike that woman intensely,’ said Mrs Willett.
‘Mrs Curtis?’
‘No, no, the Percehouse woman. That kind of woman is dangerous. They live for what they can find out about other people. Sending that girl along here for a recipe for coffee cake! I’d like to have sent her a poisoned cake. That would have stopped her interfering for good and all!’
‘I suppose I ought to have realized—’ began Violet. But her mother interrupted her.
‘How could you, my dear! And anyway what harm is done?’
‘Why do you think she came here?’
‘I don’t suppose she had anything definite in mind. She was just spying out the land. Is Mrs Curtis sure about her being engaged to Jim Pearson?’
‘That girl told Mr Rycroft so, I believe. Mrs Curtis said she suspected it from the first.’
‘Well, then the whole thing’s natural enough. She’s just looking about aimlessly for something that might help.’
‘You didn’t see her, Mother,’ said Violet. ‘She isn’t aimless.’
‘I wish I had seen her,’ said Mrs Willett. ‘But my nerves were all to pieces this morning. Reaction, I suppose, after that interview with the police inspector yesterday.’
‘You were wonderful, Mother. If only I hadn’t been such an utter fool—to go and faint. Oh! I’m ashamed of myself for giving the whole show away. And there were you perfectly calm and collected—not turning a hair.’
‘I’m in pretty good training,