The Sittaford Mystery - Agatha Christie [80]
Emily had read and re-read this letter. She had discussed it with Charles.
‘Boots,’ said Charles thoughtfully. ‘It doesn’t seem to make sense.’
‘It must mean something,’ Emily pointed out. ‘I mean—why should a pair of boots be missing?’
‘You don’t think Evans is inventing?’
‘Why should he? And after all if people do invent, they invent something sensible. Not a silly pointless thing like this.’
‘Boots suggests something to do with footprints,’ said Charles thoughtfully.
‘I know. But footprints don’t seem to enter into this case at all. Perhaps if it hadn’t come on to snow again—’
‘Yes, perhaps, but even then.’
‘Could he have given them to some tramp,’ suggested Charles, ‘and then the tramp did him in.’
‘I suppose that’s possible,’ said Emily, ‘but it doesn’t sound very like Captain Trevelyan. He might perhaps have found a man some work to do or given him a shilling, but he wouldn’t have pressed his best winter boots on him.’
‘Well, I give it up,’ said Charles.
‘I’m not going to give it up,’ said Emily. ‘By hook or by crook I’m going to get to the bottom of it.’
Accordingly she came to Exhampton and went first to the Three Crowns, where Mrs Belling received her with great enthusiasm.
‘And your young gentleman still in prison, Miss! Well, it’s a cruel shame and none of us don’t believe it was him at least I would like to hear them say so when I am about. So you got my letter? You’d like to see Evans? Well, he lives right round the corner, 85 Fore Street it is. I wish I could come with you, but I can’t leave the place, but you can’t mistake it.’
Emily did not mistake it. Evans himself was out, but Mrs Evans received her and invited her in. Emily sat down and induced Mrs Evans to do so also and plunge straight into the matter on hand.
‘I’ve come to talk about what your husband told Mrs Belling. I mean about a pair of Captain Trevelyan’s boots being missing.’
‘It’s an odd thing, to be sure,’ said the girl.
‘Your husband is quite certain about it?’
‘Oh, yes. Wore these boots most of the time in winter, the Captain did. Big ones they were, and he wore a couple of pairs of socks inside them.’
Emily nodded.
‘They can’t have gone to be mended or anything like that?’ she suggested.
‘Not without Evans knowing, they couldn’t,’ said his wife boastfully.
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘It’s queer like,’ said Mrs Evans, ‘but I don’t suppose it had anything to do with the murder, do you, Miss?’
‘It doesn’t seem likely,’ agreed Emily.
‘Have they found out anything new, Miss?’ The girl’s voice was eager.
‘Yes, one or two things—nothing very important.’
‘Seeing as that the Inspector from Exeter was here again today, I thought as though they might.’
‘Inspector Narracott?’
‘Yes, that’s the one, Miss.’
‘Did he come by my train?’
‘No, he came by car. He went to the Three Crowns first and asked about the young gentleman’s luggage.’
‘What young gentleman’s luggage?’
‘The gentleman you go about with, Miss.’
Emily stared.
‘They asked Tom,’ went on the girl, ‘I was passing by just after and he told me about it. He’s a one for noticing is Tom. He remembered there were two labels on the young gentleman’s luggage, one to Exeter and one to Exhampton.’
A sudden smile illuminated Emily’s face as she pictured the crime being committed by Charles in order to provide a scoop for himself. One could, she decided, write a gruesome little story on that