A POCKET FULL OF RYE BY AGATHA CHRISTIE

In fact she said as much, remarking after a

moment’s reflection: “I have never had anything

to do with a poisoning case before.”

“It’s not very pleasant,” Neele informed

her dryly.

“No–I suppose not. . . .”

She thought about it for a moment and then

looked up at him with a sudden smile.

“I didn’t do it,” she said. “But I suppose

everybody will tell you that!”

“Have you any idea who did do it. Miss

Dove?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Frankly, he was an odious man. Anybody

might have done it.”

“But people aren’t poisoned just for being

‘odious,’ Miss Dove. There usually has to be

a pretty solid motive.”

“Yes, of course.”

She was thoughtful.

44

“Do you care to tell me something about

the household here?”

She looked up at him. He was a little

startled to find her eyes cool and amused.

“This isn’t exactly a statement you’re

asking me to make, is it? No, it couldn’t be, because your Sergeant is busy upsetting the

domestic staff. I shouldn’t like to have what I

say read out in court–but all the same I

should rather like to say it–unofficially. Off

the record, so to speak?”

“Go ahead then. Miss Dove. I’ve no witness, as you’ve already observed.”

She leaned back, swinging one slim foot

and narrowing her eyes.

“Let me start by saying that I’ve no feeling

of loyalty to my employers. I work for them

because it’s a job that pays well and I insist

that it should pay well.”

“I was a little surprised to find you doing

this type of job. It struck me that with your

brains and education—-”

“I ought to be confined in an office? Or

compiling files in a Ministry? My dear

Inspector Neele, this is the perfect racket.

People will pay anything– anything– to be

spared domestic worries. To find and engage

a staff is a thoroughly tedious job. Writing to

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agencies, putting in advertisements, interviewing

people, making arrangements for

interviews, and finally keeping the whole

thing running smoothly–it takes a certain

capacity which most of these people haven’t

got.”

“And suppose your staff when you’ve

assembled it, runs out on you? I’ve heard of

such things.”

Mary smiled.

“If necessary, I can make the beds, dust the

rooms, cook a meal and serve it without anyone

noticing the difference. Of course I don’t

advertise that fact. It might give rise to ideas.

But I can always be sure of tiding over any

little gap. But there aren’t often gaps. I work

only for the extremely rich who will pay

anything to be comfortable. I pay top prices

and so I get the best of what’s going.”

“Such as the butler?”

She threw him an amused, appreciative

glance.

“There’s always that trouble with a couple.

Crump stays because of Mrs. Crump, who is

one of the best cooks I’ve ever come across.

She’s a jewel and one would put up with a

good deal to keep her. Our Mr. Fortescue

likes his food–liked, I should say. In this

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household nobody has any scruples and they

have plenty of money. Butter, eggs, cream,

Mrs. Crump can command what she likes. As

for Crump, he just makes the grade. His

silver’s all right, and his waiting at table is

not too bad. I keep the key of the wine cellar

and a sharp eye on the whisky and gin, and

supervise his valeting.”

Inspector Neele raised his eyebrows.

“The admirable Miss Crichton.” <

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