“Well, I was thinking I’d go home, if there’s nothing more I can do for you.”
“Don’t go yet,” said Mrs. Bantry. “The fingerprint men and the photographers and most of the police have gone, I know, but I still feel something might happen. You don’t want to miss anything.”
The telephone rang and she went off to answer. She returned with a beaming face. “I told you more things would happen. That was Colonel Melchett. He’s bringing the poor girl’s cousin along.”
“I wonder why?” said Miss Marple.
“Oh, I suppose to see where it happened, and all that.”
“More than that, I expect,” said Miss Marple.
“What do you mean, Jane?”
“Well, I think, perhaps, he might want her to meet Colonel Bantry.”
Mrs. Bantry said sharply, “To see if she recognizes him? I suppose oh, yes, I suppose they’re bound to suspect Arthur.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“As though Arthur could have anything to do with it!”
Miss Marple was silent. Mrs. Bantry turned on her accusingly. “And don’t tell me about some frightful old man who kept his housemaid, Arthur isn’t like that.”
“No, no, of course not”
“No, but he really isn’t. He’s just, sometimes, a little bit silly about pretty girls who come to tennis. You know, rather famous and avuncular. There’s no harm in it. And why shouldn’t he? After all,” finished Mrs. Bantry rather obscurely, “I’ve got the garden.”
Miss Marple smiled. “You must not worry Dolly,” she said.
“No, I don’t mean to. But all the same I do, a little. So does Arthur. It’s upset him. All these policemen looking about. He’s gone down to the farm. Looking at pigs and things always soothes him if he’s been upset…. Hullo, here they are.”
The chief constable’s car drew up outside. Colonel Melchett came in, accompanied by a smartly dressed young woman. “This is Miss Turner, Mrs. Bantry. The cousin of the… er… victim.”
“How do you do,” said Mrs. Bantry, advancing with outstretched hand. “All this must be rather awful for you.”
Josephine Turner said frankly, “Oh, it is. None of it seems real, somehow. It’s like a bad dream.”
Mrs. Bantry introduced Miss Marple. Melchett said casually, “Your good man about?”
“He had to go down to one of the farms. He’ll be back soon.”
“Oh.” Melchett seemed rather at a loss.
Mrs. Bantry said to Josie, “Would you like to see where where it happened? Or would you rather not?”
Josephine said, after a moment’s pause, “I think I’d like to see.” Mrs. Bantry led her to the library, with Miss Marple and Melchett following behind. “She was there,” said Mrs. Bantry, pointing dramatically. “On the hearth rug.”
“Oh!” Josie shuddered. But she also looked perplexed. She said, her brow creased, “I just can’t understand it! I can’t!” “Well, we certainly can’t,” said Mrs. Bantry.
Josie said slowly, “It isn’t the sort of place-” and broke off.
Miss Marple nodded her head gently in agreement with the unfinished sentiment. “That,” she murmured, “is what makes it so very interesting.”
“Come now Miss Marple,” said Colonel Melchett good-humoredly, “haven’t you got an explanation?”
“Oh, yes, I’ve got an explanation,” said Miss Marple. “Quite a feasible one. But of course it’s only my own idea. Tommy Bond,” she continued, “and Mrs. Martin, our new schoolmistress. She went to wind up the clock and a frog jumped out.”
Josephine Turner looked puzzled. As they all went out of the room she murmured to Mrs. Bantry, “Is the old lady a bit funny in the head?”
“Not at all,” said Mrs. Bantry indignantly.
Josie said, “Sorry. I thought perhaps she thought she was a frog or something.”
Colonel Bantry was just coming in through the side door. Melchett hailed him and watched Josephine Turner as he introduced them. But there was no sign of interest or recognition in her face. Melchett breathed a sigh of relief. Curse Slack and his insinuations. In answer to Mrs. Bantry’s questions, Josie was pouring out the story of Ruby Keene’s disappearance. “Frightfully worrying for you, my dear,” said Mrs. Bantry.
“I was more angry than worried,” said Josie. “You see, I didn’t know then.”
“And yet,” said Miss Marple, “you went to the police. Wasn’t that, excuse me, rather premature?”