“But why should she get this idea into her head?” asked Dr. Graham. “Did she see anything or hear anything or— I mean, why should she think so?”
“I don’t know,” said Tim rather helplessly.
‘”Was it a different bottle? Was that it, Molly?”
“No,” said Molly. “I think what she said was that there was a bottle there labelled—Seven—Seren—”
“Serenite,” said the doctor. “That’s quite right. A well-known preparation. He’d been taking it regularly.”
“Victoria said she’d never seen it in his room before.”
“Never seen it in his room before?” said Graham sharply. “What does she mean by that?”
“Well, that’s what she said. She said there were all sorts of things on the bathroom shelf. You know, tooth powder, aspirin and aftershave and—oh—she rattled them off gaily. I suppose she’s always cleaning them and so she knows them all off by heart. But this one—the Serenite—she hadn’t seen it here until the day after he died.”
“That’s very odd,” said Dr. Graham, rather sharply. “Is she sure?”
The unusual sharpness of his tone made both of the Kendals look at him. They had not expected Dr. Graham to take up quite this attitude.
“She sounded sure,” said Molly slowly. “Perhaps she just wanted to be sensational,” suggested Tim.
“I think perhaps,” said Dr. Graham, “I’d better have a few words with the girl myself.”
Victoria displayed a distinct pleasure at being allowed to tell her story.
“I don’t want to get in no trouble,” she said. “I didn’t put that bottle there and I don’t know who did.”
“But you think it was put there?” asked Graham.
“Well, you see. Doctor, it must have been put there if it wasn’t there before.”
“Major Palgrave could have kept it in a drawer—or a dispatch-case, something like that.”
Victoria shook her head shrewdly. “Wouldn’t do that if he was taking it all the time, would he?”
“No,” said Graham reluctantly. “No, it was stuff he would have to take several times a day. You never saw him taking it or anything of that kind?”
“He didn’t have it there before. I just thought—word got round as that stuff had something to do with his death, poisoned his blood or something, and I thought maybe he had an enemy who put it there so as to kill him.”
“Nonsense, my girl,” said the doctor robustly. “Sheer nonsense.”
Victoria looked shaken.
“You say as this stuff was medicine, good medicine?” she asked doubtfully.
“Good medicine, and what is more, necessary medicine,” said Dr. Graham. “So you needn’t worry, Victoria. I can assure you there was nothing wrong with that medicine. It was the proper thing for a man to take who had his complaint.”
“Surely you’ve taken a load off my mind,” said Victoria. She showed white teeth at him in a cheerful smile. But the load was not taken off Dr. Graham’s mind. That uneasiness of his that had been so nebulous was now becoming tangible.
8
A TALK WITH ESTHER WALTERS
“THIS place isn’t what it used to be,” said Mr. Rafter, irritably, as he observed Miss Marple approaching the spot where he and his secretary were sitting. “Can’t move a step without some old hen getting under your feet. What do old ladies want to come to the West Indies for?”
“Where do you suggest they should go?” asked Esther Walters.
“To Cheltenham,” said Mr. Rafter promptly. “Or Bournemouth,” he offered, “or Torquay or Llandrindod Wells. Plenty of choice. They like it there—they’re quite happy.”
“They can’t often afford to come to the West Indies, I suppose,” said Esther. “It isn’t everyone who is as lucky as you are.”
“That’s right,” said Mr. Rafter. “Rub it in. Here am I, a mass of aches and pains and disjoints. You grudge me any alleviation! And you don’t do any work. Why haven’t you typed out those letters yet?”
“I haven’t had time.”
“Well, get on with it, can’t you? I bring you out here to do a bit of work, not to sit about sunning yourself and showing off your figure.”
Some people would have considered Mr. Rafter’s remarks quite insupportable but Esther Walters had worked for him for some years and she knew well enough that Mr. Rafter’s bark was a great deal worse than his bite. He was a man who suffered almost continual pain, and making disagreeable remarks was one of his ways of letting off steam. No matter what he said she remained quite imperturbable.