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The Sittaford Mystery - Agatha Christie [69]

By Root 635 0

‘Unpleasant job this, but it has to be done,’ said Major Burnaby, and Evans, sorting out socks into neat piles, and counting pyjamas, responded.

‘It seems rather unnatural like, but as you say, sir, it’s got to be done.’

Evans was deft and efficient at his work. Everything was neatly sorted and arranged and classified in heaps. At one o’clock they repaired to the Three Crowns for a short mid-day meal. When they returned to the house the Major suddenly caught Evans by the arm as the latter closed the front door behind him.

‘Hush,’ he said. ‘Do you hear that footstep overhead? It’s—it’s in Joe’s bedroom.’

‘My Gawd, sir. So it is.’

A kind of superstitious terror held them both for a minute, and then, breaking loose from it, and with an angry squaring of the shoulders, the Major strode to the foot of the stairs and shouted in a stentorian voice:

To his intense surprise and annoyance and yet, be it confessed, to his slight relief, Ronnie Garfield appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked embarrassed and sheepish.

‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I have been looking for you.’

‘What do you mean, looking for me?’

‘Well, I wanted to tell you that I shan’t be ready at half past four. I’ve got to go into Exeter. So don’t wait for me. I’ll have to get a car up from Exhampton.’

‘How did you get into this house?’ asked the Major.

‘The door was open,’ exclaimed Ronnie. ‘Naturally I thought you were here.’

The Major turned to Evans sharply.

‘Didn’t you lock it when you came out?’

‘No, sir, I hadn’t got the key.’

‘Stupid of me,’ muttered the Major.

‘You don’t mind, do you?’ said Ronnie. ‘I couldn’t see anyone downstairs so I went upstairs and had a look round.’

‘Of course, it doesn’t matter,’ snapped the Major, ‘you startled me, that’s all.’

‘Well,’ said Ronnie airily. ‘I shall be pushing along now. So long.’

The Major grunted. Ronnie came down the stairs.

‘I say,’ he said boyishly, ‘do you mind telling me—er—er—where it happened?’

The Major jerked a thumb in the direction of the drawing-room.

‘Oh, may I look inside?’

‘If you like,’ growled the Major.

Ronnie opened the drawing-room door. He was absent a few minutes and then returned.

The Major had gone up the stairs, but Evans was in the hall. He had the air of a bulldog on guard; his small deep-set eyes watched Ronnie with a somewhat malicious scrutiny.

‘I say,’ said Ronnie. ‘I thought you could never wash out blood stains. I thought, however much you washed them, they always came back. Oh, of course—the old fellow was sandbagged, wasn’t he? Stupid of me. It was one of these, wasn’t it?’ He took up a long narrow bolster that lay against one of the other doors. He weighed it thoughtfully and balanced it in his hand. ‘Nice little toy, eh?’ He made a few tentative swings with it in the air.

Evans was silent.

‘Well,’ said Ronnie, realizing that the silence was not a wholly appreciative one, ‘I’d better be getting along. I’m afraid I’ve been a bit tactless, eh?’ He jerked his head towards the upper story. ‘I forgot about them being such pals and all that. Two of a kind, weren’t they? Well, I’m really going now. Sorry if I’ve said all the wrong things.’

He walked across the hall and out through the front door. Evans stayed impassively in the hall, and only when he had heard the latch of the gate close behind Mr Garfield did he mount the stairs and rejoin Major Burnaby. Without any word or comment he resumed where he had left off, going straight across the room and kneeling down in front of the boot cupboard.

At half past three their task was finished. One trunk of clothes and underclothes was allotted to Evans, and another was strapped up ready to be sent to the Seamen’s Orphanage. Papers and bills were packed into an attaché case and Evans was given instructions to see a local firm of removers about the storage of the various sporting trophies and heads, as there was no room for them in Major Burnaby’s cottage. Since Hazelmoor was only rented furnished no other questions arose.

When all this was settled Evans cleared his throat nervously once or twice and then said:

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