Three Act Tragedy - Agatha Christie [76]
‘Could any of those four have been present on the second occasion in some capacity other than their own? Sir Charles and Mr Satterthwaite had been in the South of France, Miss Milray had been in London, Mrs Babbington had been in Loomouth. Of the four, then, Miss Milray and Mrs Babbington seemed indicated. But could Miss Milray have been present at Melfort Abbey unrecognized by any of the company? Miss Milray has very striking features not easily disguised and not easily forgotten. I decided that it was impossible that Miss Milray could have been at Melfort Abbey unrecognized. The same applied to Mrs Babbington.
‘For the matter of that could Mr Satterthwaite or Sir Charles Cartwright have been at Melfort Abbey and not been recognized? Mr Satterthwaite just possibly; but when we come to Sir Charles Cartwright we come to a very different matter. Sir Charles is an actor accustomed to playing a part. But what part could he have played?
‘And then I came to the consideration of the butler Ellis.
‘A very mysterious person, Ellis. A person who appears from nowhere a fortnight before the crime and vanishes afterwards with complete success. Why was Ellis so successful? Because Ellis did not really exist. Ellis, again, was a thing of pasteboard and paint and stagecraft—Ellis was not real.
‘But was it possible? After all, the servants at Melfort Abbey knew Sir Charles Cartwright, and SirBartholomew Strange was an intimate friend of his. The servants I got over easily enough. The impersonation of the butler risked nothing—if the servants recognized him—why, no harm would be done—the whole thing could be passed off as a joke. If, on the other hand, a fortnight passed without any suspicion being aroused, well, the thing was safe as houses. And I recalled what I had been told of the servants’ remarks about the butler. He was “quite the gentleman”, and had been “in good houses”, and knew several interesting scandals. That was easy enough. But a very significant statement was made by the parlourmaid Alice. She said, “He arranged the work different from any butler I ever knew before.” When that remark was repeated to me, it became a confirmation of my theory.
‘But Sir Bartholomew Strange was another matter. It is hardly to be supposed that his friend could take him in. He must have known of the impersonation. Had we any evidence of that? Yes. The acute Mr Satterthwaite pounced on one point quite early in the proceedings—the facetious remark of Sir Bartholomew (totally uncharacteristic of his manner to servants)—“You’re a first-class butler, aren’t you, Ellis?” A perfectly understandable remark if the butler were Sir Charles Cartwright and Sir Bartholomew was in on the joke.
‘Because that is undoubtedly how Sir Bartholomew saw the matter. The impersonation of Ellis was a joke, possibly even a wager, its culmination was designed to be the successful spoofing of the house-party—hence Sir Bartholomew’s remark about a surprise and his cheerful humour. Note, too, that there was still time to draw back. If any of the house-party had spotted Charles Cartwright that first evening at the dinner-table, nothing irrevocable had yet occurred. The whole thing could have been passed off as a joke. But nobody noticed the stooping middle-aged butler, with his belladonna darkened eyes, and his whiskers, and the painted birthmark on his wrist. A very subtle identifying touch that—which completely failed, owing to the lack of observation of most human beings! The birthmark was intended to bulk largely in the description of Ellis—and in all that fortnight no one noticed it! The only person who did was the sharp-eyed Miss Wills, to whom we shall come presently.
‘What happened next? Sir Bartholomew died. This time the death was not put down to natural causes. The police came. They questioned Ellis and the others. Later that night “Ellis” left by the secret passage, resumed his own personality, and two days later was strolling about the gardens at Monte Carlo ready to be shocked and surprised by the news of his friend’s death.
‘This, mind