Miss Marple looked beamingly after them. She said, “I see. A romance?”
“One of the good old-fashioned kind,” Mark assured her. “It’s been going on for years. Addie’s that kind of woman.” He added meditatively, “I suppose Addie telephoned him this morning. She didn’t tell me she had.”
Edwards came discreetly along the terrace and paused at Mark’s elbow. “Excuse me, sir. Mr. Jefferson would like you to come up.”
“I’ll come at once.” Mark sprang up. He nodded to them, said, “See you later,” and went off.
Sir Henry leaned forward to Miss Marple. He said, “Well, what do you think of the principal beneficiaries of the crime?”
Miss Marple said thoughtfully, looking at Adelaide Jefferson as she stood talking to her old friend, “I should think, you know, that she was a very devoted mother.”
“Oh, she is,” said Mrs. Bantry. “She’s simply devoted to Peter.”
“She’s the kind of woman,” said Miss Marple, “that everyone likes. The kind of woman that could go on getting married again and again. I don’t mean a man’s woman that’s quite different.” “I know what you mean,” said Sir Henry. “What you both mean,” said Mrs. Bantry, “is that she’s a good listener.” Sir Henry laughed. He said, “And Mark Gaskell?” “Ah,” said Miss Marple. “He’s a downy fellow.” “Village parallel, please?”
“Mr. Cargill, the builder. He bluffed a lot of people into having things done to their houses they never meant to do. And how he charged them for it! But he could always explain his bill away plausibly. A downy fellow. He married money. So did Mr. Gaskell, I understand.” “You don’t like him.”
“Yes, I do. Most women would. But he can’t take me in. He’s a very attractive person, I think. But a little unwise, perhaps, to talk as much as he does.” “Unwise’ is the word,” said Sir Henry. “Mark will get himself into trouble if he doesn’t look out.” A tall dark young man in white flannels came to the terrace and paused just for a [missing text] Adelaide Jefferson and Hugo McLean. [missing text] said Sir Henry obligingly, “is X, whom we might describe as an interested party. He is the tennis dancing pro, Raymond Starr, Ruby Keene’s partner.”
Miss Marple looked at him with interest. She said, “He’s very nice-looking, isn’t he?”
“I suppose so.”
“Don’t be absurd. Sir Henry,” said Mrs. Bantry. “There’s no supposing about it. He is good-looking.”
Miss Marple murmured, “Mrs. Jefferson has been taking tennis lessons, I think she said.”
“Do you mean anything by that, Jane, or don’t you?”
Miss Marple had no chance of replying to this downright question. Young Peter Carmody came across the terrace and joined them. He addressed himself to Sir Henry. “I say, are you a detective too? I saw you talking to the superintendent, the fat one is a superintendent, isn’t he?”
“Quite right, my son.”
“And somebody told me you were a frightfully important detective from London. The head of Scotland Yard or something like that.”
“The head of Scotland Yard is usually a complete dud in books, isn’t he?”
“Oh, no; not nowadays. Making fun of the police is very old-fashioned. Do you know who did the murder yet?”
“Not yet, I’m afraid.”
“Are you enjoying this very much, Peter?” asked Mrs. Bantry.
“Well, I am rather. It makes a change, doesn’t it? I’ve been hunting round to see if I could find any clues, but I haven’t been lucky. I’ve got a souvenir, though. Would you like to see it? Fancy, mother wanted me to throw it away. I do think one’s parents are rather trying sometimes.” He produced from his pocket a small match box. Pushing it open, he disclosed the precious contents. “See, it’s a fingernail. Her fingernail. I’m going to label it Fingernail of the Murdered Woman and take it back to school. It’s a good souvenir, don’t you think?” “Where did you get it?” asked Miss Marple. “Well, it was a bit of luck, really. Because of course I didn’t know she was going to be murdered then. It was before dinner last night. Ruby caught her nail in Josie’s shawl and it tore it. Mum’s cut it off for her and gave it to me and said put it in the wastepaper basket, and I meant to, but I put it in my pocket instead, and this morning I remembered and looked to see if it was still there, and it was, so now I’ve got it as a souvenir.”