ladies appeared to be discussing foreign
missions.
“I’ll go away. Inspector.” Miss Marple
rose hurriedly to her feet.
“No need, madam,” said Inspector Neele.
“I’ve asked Miss Marple to come and stay
in the house,” said Miss Ramsbottom. “No
sense in spending money in that ridiculous
Golf Hotel. A wicked nest of profiteers, that
is. Drinking and card playing all the evening.
She’d better come and stay in a decent
Christian household. There’s a room next
door to mine. Dr. Mary Peters, the missionary, had it last.”
“It’s very, very kind of you,” said Miss
Marple, “but I really think I mustn’t intrude
in a house of mourning.”
“Mourning? Fiddlesticks,” said Miss
Ramsbottom. “Who’ll weep for Rex in this
house? Or Adele either? Or is it the police
196
you’re worried about? Any objections,
Inspector?”
“None from me, madam.”
“There you are,” said Miss Ramsbottom. “It’s very kind of you,” said Miss Marple
gratefully. “I’ll go and telephone to the hotel
to cancel my booking.” She left the room and
Miss Ramsbottom said sharply to the
Inspector:
“Well, and what do you want?”
“I wondered if you could tell me anything
about the Blackbird Mine, ma’am.”
Miss Ramsbottom uttered a sudden, shrill
cackle of laughter.
“Ha. You’ve got on to that, have you! Took
the hint I gave you the other day. Well, what
do you want to know about it?”
“Anything you can tell me, madam.”
“I can’t tell you much. It’s a long time ago
now–oh, twenty to twenty-five years maybe.
Some concession or other in East Africa. My
brother-in-law went into it with a man called
MacKenzie. They went out there to investigate
the mine together and MacKenzie died
out there of fever. Rex came home and said
the claim or the concession or whatever you
call it was worthless. That’s all /
know.”
I 197
“I think you know a little more than that,
ma’am,” said Neele persuasively.
“Anything else is hearsay. You don’t like
hearsay in the law, so I’ve been told.”
“We’re not in court yet, ma’am.”
“Well, I can’t tell you anything. The
MacKenzies kicked up a fuss. That’s all I
know. They insisted that Rex had swindled
MacKenzie. I daresay he did. He was a
clever, unscrupulous fellow, but I’ve no
doubt whatever he did it was all legal. They
couldn’t prove anything. Mrs. MacKenzie
was an unbalanced sort of woman. She came
here and made a lot of threats of revenge.
Said Rex had murdered her husband. Silly,
melodramatic fuss! I think she was a bit off
her head—in fact, I believe she went into an
asylum not long after. Came here dragging
along a couple of young children who looked
scared to death. Said she’d bring up her
children to have revenge. Something like
that. Tomfoolery, all of it. Well, that’s all I
can tell you. And mind you, the Blackbird
Mine wasn’t the only swindle that Rex put
over in his lifetime. You’ll find a good many
more if you look for them. What put you on
to the Blackbird? Did you come across some
trail leading to the MacKenzies?”
198
“You don’t know what became of the
family, ma’am?”
“No idea,” said Miss Ramsbottom. “Mind
you, I don’t think Rex would have actually
murdered MacKenzie, but he might have left
him to die. The same thing before the Lord,
but not the same thing before the law. If he
did, retribution’s caught up with him. The
mills of God grind slowly, but they grind
exceeding small—you’d better go away now, I
can’t tell you any more and it’s no good your
asking.”
“Thank you very much for what you have
told me,” said Inspector Neele.
“Send that Marple woman back,” Miss
Ramsbottom called after him. “She’s
frivolous, like all Church of England people,
but she knows how to run a charity in a
sensible way.”
Inspector Neele made a couple of telephone
calls, the first to Ansell and Worrall and the
second to the Golf Hotel, then he summoned
Sergeant Hay and told him that he was
leaving the house for a short period.
“I’ve a call to pay at a solicitor’s
office—after that, you can get me at the Golf