‘This won’t do, Edgar,’ he said. ‘This won’t do, you knOW.’ ‘He’s a dangerous lunatic,’ said Mildred sharply. ‘He’s been shooting off a revolver and raving. He only just missed my stepfather.’
Edgar gave a little yelp and Dr Maverick said reprovingly: ‘Careful, please, Mrs Strete.’ ‘I’m sick of all this. Sick of the way you all go on here!
I tell you this man’s a lunatic.’ With a bound Edgar wrenched himself away from Dr Maverick and fell to the floor at Serrocold’s feet.
‘Help me. Help me. Don’t let them take me away and shut me up. Don’t let them…’ An unpleasing scene, Miss Marple thought.
Mildred said angrily, ‘I tell you he’s ‘ Her mother said soothingly: ‘Please Mildred. Not now. He’s suffering.’ Walter muttered: ‘Suffering cripes. They’re all cuckoo round here.’ ‘I’ll take charge of him,’ said Dr Maverick. ‘You come with me, Edgar. Bed and a sedative – and we’ll talk everything out in the morning. Now you trust me, don’t/ you?’ Rising to his feet and trembling a little, Edgar looked ‘, doubtfully at the young doctor and then at Mildred Strete.
‘She said – I was a lunatic.’ ‘No, no, you’re not a lunatic.’ Miss Believer’s footsteps rang purposefully across the Hall. She came in with her lips pursed together and a flushed face.
‘I’ve telephoned the police,’ she said grimly. ‘They will be here in a few minutes.’ Carrie Louise cried, ‘Jolly!’ in tones of dismay.
Edgar uttered a wail.
Lewis Serrocold frowned angrily.
‘I told you, Jolly, I did not want the police summoned.
This is a medical matter.’
‘That’s as may be,’ said Miss Believer. ‘I’ve my own opinion. But I had to call the police. Mr Gulbrandsen’s been shot dead.’
CHAPTER 8
It was a moment or two before anyone took in what she was saying.
Carrie Louise said incredulously:
‘Christian shot? Dead? Oh, surely, that’s impossible.’ ‘If you don’t believe me,’ said Miss Believer, pursing her lips, and addressing not so much Carrie Louise, as the assembled company, ‘go and look for yourselves.’
She was angry. And her anger sounded in the crisp sharpness of her voice.
Slowly, unbelievingly, Carrie Louise took a step towards the door. Lewis Serrocold put a hand on her shoulder.
‘No, dearest, let me go.’
He went out through the doorway. Dr Maverick, with a doubtful glance at Edgar, followed him. Miss Bellever went with them.
Miss Marple gently urged Carrie Louise into a chair.
She sat down, her eyes looking hurt and stricken.
‘Christian – shot?’ she said again.
It was the bewildered hurt tone of a child.
Walter Hudd remained close to Edgar Lawson, glow-ering down at him. In his hand he held the gun that he had picked up from the floor.
Mrs Serrocold said in a wondering voice:
‘But who could possibly want to shoot Christian?’ It was not a question that demanded an answer.
Walter muttered under his breath: ‘Nuts! The whole lot of them.’ Stephen had moved protectively closer to Gina. Her young startled face was the most vivid thing in the room.
Suddenly the front door opened and a rush of cold air together with a man in a big overcoat came in.
The heartiness of his greeting seemed incredibly shocking.
‘Hallo, everybody, what’s going on tonight? A lot of fog on the road. I had to go dead slow.’ For a startled moment, Miss Marple thought that she was seeing double. Surely the same man could not be standing by Gina and coming in by the door. Then she realized that it was only a likeness and not, when you looked closely, such a very strong likeness. The two men were clearly brothers with a strong family resemblance, but no more.
Where Stephen Restarick was thin to the point of emaciation the newcomer was sleek. The big coat with the astrakhan collar fitted the sleekness of body snugly. A handsome young man, and one who bore upon him the authority and good humour of success.
But Miss Marple noted one thing about him. His eyes, as he entered the hall, looked immediately at Gina.
He said, a little doubtfully: ‘You did expect me? You got my wire?’ He was speaking now to Carrie Louise. He came towards her.