fire an old lady was sitting laying out a
patience. She wore a maroon-coloured dress
and her sparse grey hair was slicked down
each side other face.
Without looking up or discontinuing her
game she said impatiently:
“Well, come in, come in. Sit down if you
like.”
The invitation was not easy to accept as
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every chair appeared to be covered with tracts
or publications of a religious nature.
As he moved them slightly aside on the sofa
Miss Ramsbottom asked sharply:
“Interested in mission work?”
“Well, I’m afraid I’m not very, ma’am.”
“Wrong. You should be. That’s where the
Christian spirit is nowadays. Darkest Africa.
Had a young clergyman here last week. Black
as your hat. But a true Christian.”
Inspector Neele found it a little difficult to
know what to say.
The old lady further disconcerted him by
snapping:
“I haven’t got a wireless.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh I thought perhaps you came about a
wireless licence. Or one of these silly forms.
Well, man, what is it?”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you. Miss
Ramsbottom, that your brother-in-law, Mr.
Fortescue, was taken suddenly ill and died
this morning.”
Miss Ramsbottom continued with her
patience without any sign of perturbation,
merely remarking in a conversational way:
“Struck down at last in his arrogance and
sinful pride. Well, it had to come.”
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“I hope it’s not a shock to you?”
It obviously wasn’t but the Inspector
wanted to hear what she would say.
Miss Ramsbottom gave him a sharp glance
over the top of her spectacles and said:
“If you mean I am not distressed, that is
quite right. Rex Fortescue was always a sinful
man and I never liked him.”
“His death was very sudden——”
“As befits the ungodly,” said the old lady
with satisfaction.
“It seems possible that he may have been
poisoned——”
The Inspector paused to observe the effect
he had made.
He did not seem to have made any. Miss
Ramsbottom merely murmured “Red seven
on black eight. Now I can move up the
King.”
Struck apparently by the Inspector’s
silence, she stopped with a card poised in her
hand and said sharply:
“Well, what did you expect me to say? I
didn’t poison him if that’s what you want to
know.”
“Have you any idea who might have done
so?”
“That’s a very improper question,” said
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the old lady sharply. “Living in this house
are two of my dead sister’s children. I decline
to believe that anybody with Ramsbottom
blood in them could be guilty of murder.
Because it’s murder you’re meaning, isn’t
it?”
“I didn’t say so, madam.”
“Of course it’s murder. Plenty of people
have wanted to murder Rex in their time. A
very unscrupulous man. And old sins have
long shadows, as the saying goes.”
“Have you anyone in particular in mind?”
Miss Ramsbottom swept up the cards and
rose to her feet. She was a tall woman.
“I think you’d better go now,” she said.
She spoke without anger but with a kind of
cold finality.
“If you want my opinion,” she went on, “it
was probably one of the servants. That butler
looks to me a bit of a rascal, and that
parlourmaid is definitely subnormal. Good
evening.”
Inspector Neele found himself meekly
walking out. Certainly a remarkable old lady.
Nothing to be got out other.
He came down the stairs into the square
hall to find himself suddenly face to face with
a tall dark girl. She was wearing a damp
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mackintosh and she stared into his face with a
curious blankness.
“I’ve just come back,” she said. “And they
told me—about Father—that he’s dead.”
“I’m afraid that’s true.”
She pushed out a hand behind her as
though blindly seeking for support. She
touched an oak chest and slowly, stiffly, she
sat down on it.
“Oh no,” she said. “No . . .”
Slowly two tears rolled down her cheeks.
“It’s awful,” she said. “I didn’t think that I
even liked him. … I thought I hated him. . . .
But that can’t be so, or I wouldn’t mind. I do
mind.”
She sat there, staring in front of her and
again tears forced themselves from her eyes