“This might cut both ways. Supposing Helen was in love with him–the first man she ever was in love with, and supposing she went on being in love with him.
Perhaps they had an affair together and she didn’t let anyone know about it. But perhaps he wanted her to go away with him, and by that time she was tired of him, and wouldn’t go, and so — and so — he killed her. And all the rest of it. Lily said in her letter to Dr. Kennedy there was a posh car standing outside that night. It was Jackie Afflick’s car. Jackie Afflick was “on the spot’, too.
“It’s an assumption,” said Giles. ‘But it seems to me a reasonable one. But there are Helen’s letters to be worked into our reconstruction. I’ve been puzzling my brains to think of the “circumstances’, as Miss Marple put it, under which she could have been induced to write those letters. It seems to me that to explain them, we’ve got to admit that she actually had a lover, and that she was expecting to go away with him. We’ll test our three possibles again. Erskine first. Say that he still wasn’t prepared to leave his wife or break up his home, but that Helen had agreed to leave Kelvin Halliday and go somewhere where Erskine could come and be with her from time to time. The first thing would be to disarm Mrs. Erskine’s suspicions, so Helen writes a couple of letters to reach her brother in due course which will look as though she has gone abroad with someone.
That fits in very well with her being so mysterious about who the man in question is.” “But if she was going to leave her husband for him, why did he kill her?” asked Gwenda.
“Perhaps because she suddenly changed her mind. Decided that she did really care for her husband after all. He just saw red and strangled her. Then, he took the clothes and suit-case and used the letters.
That’s a perfectly good explanation covering everything.” “The same might apply to Walter Fane.
I should imagine that scandal might be absolutely disastrous to a country solicitor.
Helen might have agreed to go somewhere nearby where Fane could visit her but pretend that she had gone abroad with someone else. Letters all prepared and then, as you suggested, she changed her mind.
Walter went mad and killed her.” “What about Jackie Afflick?” “It’s more difficult to find a reason for the letters with him. I shouldn’t imagine that scandal would affect him. Perhaps Helen was afraid, not of him, but of my father — and so thought it would be better to pretend she’d gone abroad — or perhaps Afflick’s wife had the money at that time, and he wanted her money to invest in his business. Oh yes, there are lots of possibilities for the letters.” “Which one do you fancy. Miss Marple?” asked Gwenda. “I don’t really think Walter Fane — but then — ” Mrs. Cocker had just come in to clear away the coffee cups.
“There now, madam,” she said. “I quite forgot. All this about a poor woman being murdered and you and Mr. Reed mixed up in it, not at all the right thing for you, madam, just now. Mr. Fane was here this afternoon, asking for you. He waited quite half an hour. Seemed to think you were expecting him.” “How strange,” said Gwenda. “What time?” “It must have been about four o’clock or just after. And then, after that, there was another gentleman, came in a great big yellow car. He was positive you were expecting him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Waited twenty minutes. I wondered if you’d had some idea of a tea-party and forgotten it.” “No,” said Gwenda. “How odd.” “Let’s ring up Fane now,” said Giles.
“He won’t have gone to bed.” He suited the action to the word.
“Hullo, is that Fane speaking? Giles Reed here. I hear you came round to see us this afternoon— What?— No — no, I’m sure of it — no, how very odd. Yes, I wonder, too.” He laid down the receiver.