Adelaide Jefferson and Hugo McLean were walking rapidly down the path toward them. With a smiling apology for her lateness, Addie Jefferson went onto the court. McLean sat down on the bench. After a polite inquiry whether Miss Marple minded a pipe, he lit it and puffed for some minutes in silence, watching critically the two white figures about the tennis court. He said at last, “Can’t see what Addie wants to have lessons for. Have a game, yes. No one enjoys it better than I do. But why lessons?”
“Wants to improve her game,” said Sir Henry.
“She’s not a bad player,” said Hugo. “Good enough, at all events. Dash it all, she isn’t aiming to play at Wimbledon.” He was silent for a minute or two. Then he said, “Who is this Raymond fellow? Where do they come from, these pros? Fellow looks like a Dago to me.”
“He’s one of the Devonshire Starrs,” said Sir Henry.
“What? Not really?”
Sir Henry nodded. It was clear that this news was unpleasing to Hugo McLean. He scowled more than ever. He said, “Don’t know why Addie sent for me. She seems not to have turned a hair over this business. Never looked better. Why send for me?”
Sir Henry asked with some curiosity, “When did she send for you?”
“Oh… er when all this happened.”
“How did you hear? Telephone or telegram?”
“Telegram.”
“As a matter of curiosity, when was it sent off?”
“Well, I don’t know exactly.”
“What time did you receive it?”
“I didn’t exactly receive it. It was telephoned on to me, as a matter of fact.”
“Why, where were you?”
“Fact is, I’d left London the afternoon before. I was staying at Danebury Head.”
“What? Quite near here?”
“Yes, rather funny, wasn’t it? Got the message when I got in from a round of golf and came over here at once.”
Miss Marple gazed at him thoughtfully. He looked hot and uncomfortable. She said, “I’ve heard it’s very pleasant at Danebury Head and not very expensive.”
“No, it’s not expensive. I couldn’t afford it if it was. It’s a nice little place.”
“We must drive over there one day,” said Miss Marple.
“Eh? What? Oh or yes, I should.” He got up. “Better take some exercise, get an appetite.” He walked away stiffly.
“Women,” said Sir Henry, “treat their devoted admirers very badly.” Miss Marple smiled, but made no answer. “Does he strike you as rather a dull dog?” asked Sir Henry. “I’d be interested to know.”
“A little limited in his ideas, perhaps,” said Miss Marple. “But with possibilities, I think oh, definitely possibilities.”
Sir Henry, in his turn, got up. “It’s time for me to go and do my stuff. I see Mrs. Bantry is on her way to keep you company.”
Mrs. Bantry arrived breathless and sat down with a gasp. She said, “I’ve been talking to chambermaids. But it isn’t any good. I haven’t found out a thing more! Do you think that girl can really have been carrying on with someone without everybody in the hotel knowing all about it?”
“That’s a very interesting point, dear. I should say definitely not. Somebody knows, depend upon it, if it’s true. But she must have been very clever about it.”
Mrs. Bantry’s attention had strayed to the tennis court. She said approvingly, “Addie’s tennis is coming on a lot. Attractive young man, that tennis pro. Addie’s quite nice-looking. She’s still an attractive woman. I shouldn’t be at all surprised if she married again.”
“She’ll be quite a rich woman, too, when Mr. Jefferson dies,” said Miss Marple.
“Oh, don’t always have such a nasty mind, Jane. Why haven’t you solved this mystery yet? We don’t seem to be getting on at all. I thought you’d know at once.” Mrs. Bantry’s tone held reproach.
“No, no, dear, I didn’t know at once, not for some time.”
Mrs. Bantry turned startled and incredulous eyes on her. “You mean you know now who killed Ruby Keene?”
“Oh, yes,” said Miss Marple. “I know that!”
“But, Jane, who is it? Tell me at once.”
Miss Marple shook her head very firmly and pursed up her lips. “I’m sorry Dolly, but that wouldn’t do at all.”