suddenly lost my temper. Oh! well—it would
have come to the same before long. I’m
meeting Pat at the Savoy—are you coming my
way. Inspector?”
285
“No, I’m returning to Baydon Heath. But
there’s just something I’d like to ask you, Mr.
Fortescue.”
“Yes!”
“When you came into the inner office and
saw me there—you were surprised. Why?”
“Because I didn’t expect to see you, I
suppose. I thought I’d find Percival there.”
“You weren’t told that he’d gone out?”
Lance looked at him curiously.
“No. They said he was in his office.”
“I see—nobody knew he’d gone out.
There’s no second door out of the inner
office—but there is a door leading straight
into the corridor from the little antechamber—I
suppose your brother went out
that way—but I’m surprised Mrs. Hardcastle
didn’t tell you so.”
Lance laughed.
“She’d probably been to collect her cup of
tea.”
“Yes—yes—quite so.”
Lance looked at him.
“What’s the idea. Inspector?”
“Just puzzling over a few little things,
that’s all, Mr. Fortescue——”
286
24
IN the train on the way down to Baydon
Heath, Inspector Neele had singularly
little success doing The Times crossword.
His mind was distracted by various possibilities.
In the same way he read the news
with only half his brain taking it in. He read
of an earthquake in Japan, of the discovery of
uranium deposits in Tanganyika, of the body
of a merchant seaman washed up near
Southampton, and of the imminent strike
among the dockers. He read of the latest
victims of the cosh and of a new drug that had
achieved wonders in advanced cases of
tuberculosis.
All these items made a queer kind of
pattern in the back of his mind. Presently he
returned to the crossword puzzle and was
able to put down three clues in rapid
succession.
When he reached Yewtree Lodge he had
come to a certain decision. He said to
Sergeant Hay:
“Where’s that old lady? Is she still here?”
287
“Miss Marple? Oh, yes, she’s here still.
Great buddies with the old lady upstairs.”
“I see.” Neele paused for a moment and
then said: “Where is she now? I’d like to see
her.”
Miss Marple arrived in a few minutes’
time, looking rather flushed and breathing
fast.
“You want to see me. Inspector Neele? I do
hope I haven’t kept you waiting. Sergeant
Hay couldn’t find me at first. I was in the
kitchen, talking to Mrs. Crump. I was congratulating
her on her pastry and how light
her hand is and telling her how delicious the
souffle was last night. I always think, you
know, it’s better to approach a subject gradually,
don’t you? At least, I suppose it isn’t so
easy for you. You more or less have to come
almost straight away to the questions you
want to ask. But of course for an old lady like
me who has all the time in the world, as you
might say, it’s really expected other that there
should be a great deal of unnecessary talk.
And the way to a cook’s heart, as they say, is
through her pastry.”
“What you really wanted to talk to her
about,” said Inspector Neele, “was Gladys
Martin?”
288
Miss Marple nodded.
“Yes. Gladys. You see, Mrs. Crump could
really tell me a lot about the girl. Not in
connection with the murder. I don’t mean
that. But about her spirits lately and the odd
things she said. I don’t mean odd in the sense
of peculiar. I mean just the odds and ends of
conversation.”
“Did you find it helpful?” asked Inspector
Neele.
“Yes,” said Miss Marple. “I found it very
helpful indeed. I really think, you know, that
things are becoming very much clearer, don’t
you?”
“I do and I don’t,” said Inspector Neele.
Sergeant Hay, he noticed, had left the
room. He was glad of it because what he was
about to do now was, to say the least of it,
slightly unorthodox.
“Look here. Miss Marple,” he said, “I
want to talk to you seriously.”
“Yes, Inspector Neele?”
“In a way,” said Inspector Neele, “you and
I represent different points of view. I admit,
Miss Marple, that I’ve heard something