The Sittaford Mystery - Agatha Christie [71]
‘How did she know anything about it?’
‘She was up at Sittaford nosing around. And she’s what you’d call a sharp young lady. There’s not much gets past her.’
‘What was Brian Pearson’s own account of his movements?’
‘Said he came to Sittaford House to see his young lady, Miss Willett, that is. She came out of the house to meet him when everyone was asleep because she didn’t want her mother to know about it. That’s their story.’
Inspector Narracott’s voice expressed distinct disbelief.
‘It’s my belief, sir, that if Enderby hadn’t run him to earth, he never would have come forward. He’d have gone back to Australia and claimed his inheritance from there.’
A faint smile crossed the Chief Constable’s lips.
‘How he must have cursed these pestilential prying journalists,’ he murmured.
‘There’s something else come to light,’ continued the Inspector. ‘There are three Pearsons, you remember, and Sylvia Pearson is married to Martin Dering, the novelist. He told me that he lunched and spent the afternoon with an American publisher and went to a literary dinner in the evening, but now it seems that he wasn’t at the dinner at all.’
‘Who says so?’
‘Enderby again.’
‘I think I must meet Enderby,’ said the Chief Constable. ‘He appears to be one of the live wires of this investigation. No doubt about it, the Daily Wire does have some bright young men on their staff.’
‘Well, of course, that may mean little or nothing,’ continued the Inspector. ‘Captain Trevelyan was killed before six o’clock, so where Dering spent his evening is really of no consequence—but why should he have deliberately lied about it? I don’t like it, sir.’
‘No,’ agreed the Chief Constable. ‘It seems a little unnecessary.’
‘It makes one think that the whole thing may be false. It’s a far-fetched supposition, I suppose, but Dering might have left Paddington by the twelve ten train—arrived at Exhampton some time after five, have killed the old man, got the six ten train and been back home again before midnight. At any rate it’s got to be looked into, sir. We’ve got to investigate his financial position, see if he was desperately hard up. Any money his wife came into he would have the handling of—you’ve only got to look at her to know that. We’ve got to make perfectly sure that the afternoon alibi holds water.’
‘The whole thing is extraordinary,’ commented the Chief Constable. ‘But I still think the evidence against Pearson is pretty conclusive. I see that you don’t agree with me—you’ve a feeling you’ve got hold of the wrong man.’
‘The evidence is all right,’ admitted Inspector Narracott, ‘circumstantial and all that, and any jury ought to convict on it. Still, what you say is true enough—I don’t see him as a murderer.’
‘And his young lady is very active in the case,’ said the Chief Constable.
‘Miss Trefusis, yes, she’s a one and no mistake. A real fine young lady. And absolutely determined to get him off. She’s got hold of that journalist, Enderby, and she’s working him for all she’s worth. She’s a great deal too good for Mr James Pearson. Beyond his good looks I wouldn’t say there was much to him in the way of character.’
‘But if she’s a managing young woman that’s what she likes,’ said the Chief Constable.
‘Ah well,’ said Inspector Narracott, ‘there’s no accounting for tastes. Well, you agree, sir, that I had better take up this alibi of Dering’s without any more delay.’
‘Yes, get on to it at once. What about the fourth interested party in the will? There’s a fourth, isn’t there?’
‘Yes, the sister. That’s perfectly all right. I have made inquiries there. She was at home at six o’clock all right, sir. I’ll get right on with the Dering business.’
It was about five hours later that Inspector Narracott found himself once more in the small sitting-room of The Nook. This time Mr Dering was at home. He couldn’t be disturbed as he was writing, the maid had said at first, but the Inspector had produced an official card and bade her take it to her master without delay. Whilst waiting he strode up and down the room. His mind was working actively. Every now and