Three Act Tragedy - Agatha Christie [40]
‘I suppose, Mrs Babbington, that your husband didn’t leave very much money?’
‘No. Next to nothing. Stephen was not good at saving. He gave away far too much. I used to scold him about it.’
‘I suppose he had no expectations from anyone? He wasn’t the heir to any property?’
‘Oh, no. Stephen hadn’t many relations. He has a sister who is married to a clergyman in Northumberland, but they are very badly off, and all his uncles and aunts are dead.’
‘Then it does not seem as though there were anyone who could benefit by Mr Babbington’s death?’
‘No, indeed.’
‘Let us come back to the question of enemies for a minute. Your husband had no enemies, you say; but he may have had as a young man.’
Mrs Babbington looked sceptical.
‘I should think it very unlikely. Stephen hadn’t a quarrelsome nature. He always got on well with people.’
‘I don’t want to sound melodramatic,’ Sir Charles coughed a little nervously. ‘But—er—when he got engaged to you, for instance, there wasn’t any disappointed suitor in the offing?’
Amomentary twinkle came into Mrs Babbington’s eyes.
‘Stephen was my father’s curate. He was the first young man I saw when I came home from school. I fell in love with him and he with me. We were engaged for four years, and then he got a living down in Kent, and we were able to get married. Ours was a very simple love story, Sir Charles—and a very happy one.’
Sir Charles bowed his head. Mrs Babbington’s simple dignity was very charming.
Egg took up the rôle of questioner.
‘Mrs Babbington, do you think your husband had met any of the guests at Sir Charles’s that night before?’
Mrs Babbington looked slightly puzzled.
‘Well, there were you and your mother, my dear, and young Oliver Manders.’
‘Yes, but any of the others?’
‘We had both seen Angela Sutcliffe in a play in London five years ago. Both Stephen and I were very excited that we were actually going to meet her.’
‘You had never actually met her before?’
‘No. We’ve never met any actresses—or actors, for the matter of that—until Sir Charles came to live here. And that,’ added Mrs Babbington, ‘was a great excitement. I don’t think Sir Charles knows what a wonderful thing it was to us. Quite a breath of romance in our lives.’
‘You hadn’t met Captain and Mrs Dacres?’
‘Was he the little man, and the woman with the wonderful clothes?’
‘Yes.’
‘No. Nor the other woman—the one who wrote plays. Poor thing, she looked rather out of it, I thought.’
‘You’re sure you’d never seen any of them before?’
‘I’m quite sure I hadn’t—and so I’m fairly sure Stephen hadn’t, either. You see, we do everything together.’
‘And Mr Babbington didn’t say anything to you—anything at all,’ persisted Egg, ‘about the people you were going to meet, or about them, when he saw them?’
‘Nothing beforehand—except that he was looking forward to an interesting evening. And when we got there—well, there wasn’t much time—’ Her face twisted suddenly.
Sir Charles broke in quickly.
‘You must forgive us badgering you like this. But, you see, we feel that there must be something, if only we could get at it. There must be some reason for an apparently brutal and meaningless murder.’
‘I see that,’ said Mrs Babbington. ‘If it was murder, there must be some reason…But I don’t know—I can’t imagine—what that reason could be.’
There was silence for a minute or two, then Sir Charles said:
‘Can you give me a slight biographical sketch of your husband’s career?’
Mrs Babbington had a good memory for dates. Sir Charles’s final notes ran thus:
‘Stephen Babbington, born Islington, Devon, 1868. Educated St Paul’s School and Oxford. Ordained Deacon and received a title to the Parish of Hoxton, 1891. Priested 1892. Was Curate Eslington, Surrey, to Rev. Vernon Lorrimer, 1894–1899. Married Margaret Lorrimer, 1899, and presented to the living of Gilling, Kent. Transferred to living of St Petroch, Loomouth, 1916.’
‘That gives us something to go upon,’ said Sir Charles. ‘Our best chance seems to me the time during which Mr Babbington