A POCKET FULL OF RYE BY AGATHA CHRISTIE

The voice struck Inspector Neele as slightly

alcoholic.

“Are you the butler?”

“That’s right.”

“Mr. Fortescue has been taken seriously

ill.”

“I know. They rung up and said so. But

there’s nothing I can do about it. Mr. Val’s

away up North and Mrs. Fortescue’s out

playing golf. Mrs. Val’s gone up to London

but she’ll be back for dinner and Miss

Elaine’s out with her Brownies.”

“Is there no one in the house I can speak to

about Mr. Fortescue’s illness? It’s

important.”

“Well–I don’t know.” The man sounded

23

doubtful. “There’s Miss Ramsbottom–but

she don’t ever speak over the phone. Or

there’s Miss Dove–she’s what you might call

the ‘ousekeeper.”

“I’ll speak to Miss Dove, please.”

“I’ll try and get hold of her.”

His retreating footsteps were audible

through the phone. Inspector Neele heard no

approaching footsteps but a minute or two

later a woman’s voice spoke.

“This is Miss Dove speaking.”

The voice was low and well poised, with

clear-cut enunciation. Inspector Neele formed

a favourable picture of Miss Dove.

“I am sorry to have to tell you. Miss Dove,

that Mr. Fortescue died in St. Jude’s Hospital

a short time ago. He was taken suddenly ill in

his office. I am anxious to get in touch with

his relatives—-”

“Of course. I had no idea—-” She broke

off. Her voice held no agitation, but it was

shocked. She went on: “It is all most unfortunate.

The person you really want to get in

touch with is Mr. Fercival Fortescue. He

would be the one to see to all the necessary

arrangements. You might be able to get in

touch with him at the Midland in Manchester

or possibly at the Grand in Leicester.

24

Or you might try Shearer and Bonds of

Leicester. I don’t know their telephone

number, I’m afraid, but I know they are a

firm on whom he was going to call and they

might be able to inform you where he would

be likely to be to-day. Mrs. Fortescue will

certainly be in to dinner and she may be in to

tea. It will be a great shock to her. It must

have been very sudden? Mr. Fortescue was

quite well when he left here this morning.”

“You saw him before he left?”

“Oh yes. What was it? Heart?”

“Did he suffer from heart trouble?”

“No—no—I don’t think so—— But I

thought as it was so sudden——” She broke

off. “Are you speaking from St. Jude’s

Hospital? Are you a doctor?”

“No, Miss Dove, I’m not a doctor. I’m

speaking from Mr. Fortescue’s office in the

city. I am Detective-Inspector Neele of the

C.I.D. and I shall be coming down to see you

as soon as I can get there.”

“Detective Inspector? Do you mean—what

do you mean?”

“It was a case of sudden death. Miss Dove,

and when there is a sudden death we get called

to the scene, especially when the deceased

25

man hasn’t seen a doctor lately–which I

gather was the case?”

It was only the faintest suspicion of a

question mark but the young woman responded.

“I know. Percival made an appointment

twice for him but he wouldn’t keep it. He was

quite unreasonable–they’ve all been

worried—-”

She broke off and then resumed in her former

assured manner:

“If Mrs. Fortescue returns to the house

before you arrive, what do you want me to

tell her?”

Practical as they make ’em, thought

Inspector Neele.

Aloud he said:

“Just tell her that in a case of sudden death

we have to make a few inquiries. Routine

inquiries.”

He hung up.

26

3

NEELE pushed the telephone away

and looked sharply at Miss Griffith.

“So they’ve been worried about

him lately,” he said. “Wanted him to see a

doctor. You didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t think of it,” said Miss Griffith,

and added: “He never seemed to me really ill—-”

“Not ill-but what?”

“Well, just odd. Unlike himself. Peculiar

in his manner.”

“Worried about something?”

“Oh no, not worried. It’s we who were

worried—-”

Inspector Neele waited patiently.

“It’s difficult to say, really,” said Miss

Griffith. “He had moods, you know. Sometimes

he was quite boisterous. Once or twice,

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