Agatha Christie – The Body in the Library

As they left the bar they were accosted by a small boy about nine years old. He burst immediately into excited speech. “I say, are you the detectives? I’m Peter Carmody. It was my grandfather, Mr. Jefferson, who rang up the police about Ruby. Are you from Scotland Yard? You don’t mind my speaking to you, do you?”

Colonel Melchett looked as though he were about to return a short answer, but Superintendent Harper intervened. He spoke benignly and heartily. “That’s all right, my son. Naturally interests you, I expect?”

“You bet it does. Do you like detective stories? I do. I read them all and I’ve got autographs from Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Christie and Dickson Carr and H. C. Bailey. Will the murder be in the papers?”

“It’ll be in the papers all right,” said Superintendent Harper grimly.

“You see, I’m going back to school next week and I shall tell them all that I knew her, really knew her well.”

“What did you think of her, eh?”

Peter considered. “Well, I didn’t like her very much. I think she was rather a stupid sort of girl. Mum and Uncle Mark didn’t like her much, either. Only grandfather. Grandfather wants to see you, by the way. Edwards is looking for you.”

Superintendent Harper murmured encouragingly, “So your mother and your Uncle Mark didn’t like Ruby Keene much? Why was that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. She was always butting in. And they didn’t like grandfather making such a fuss of her. I expect,” said Peter cheerfully, “that they’re glad she’s dead.”

Superintendent Harper looked at him thoughtfully. He said, “Did you hear them er say so?”

“Well, not exactly. Uncle Mark said, “Well, it’s one way out anyway,” and mum said, “Yes, but such a horrible one and Uncle Mark said it was no good being hypocritical.”

The men exchanged glances. At that moment a clean-shaven man neatly dressed in blue serge came up to them. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I am Mr. Jefferson’s valet. He is awake now and sent me to find you, as he is very anxious to see you.”

Once more they went up to Conway Jefferson’s suite. In the sitting room Adelaide Jefferson was talking to a tall, restless man who was prowling nervously about the room. He swung around sharply to view the newcomers. “Oh, yes. Glad you’ve come. My father-in-law’s been asking for you. He’s awake now. Keep him as calm as you can, won’t you? His health’s not too good. It’s a wonder, really, that this shock didn’t do for him.”

Harper said, “I’d no idea his health was as bad as that.”

“He doesn’t know it himself,” said Mark Gaskell. “It’s his heart, you see. The doctor warned Addie that he mustn’t be overexcited or startled. He more or less hinted that the end might come any time, didn’t he, Addie?”

Mrs. Jefferson nodded. She said, “It’s incredible that he’s rallied the way he has.”

Melchett said dryly, “Murder isn’t exactly a soothing incident. We’ll be as careful as we can.” He was sizing up Mark Gaskell as he spoke. He didn’t much care for the fellow. A bold, unscrupulous, hawklike face. One of those men who usually get their own way and whom women frequently admire. But not the sort of fellow I’d trust, the colonel thought to himself. Uncrupulous — that was the word for him. The sort of fellow who wouldn’t stick at anything.

In the big bedroom overlooking the sea, Conway Jefferson was sitting in his wheeled chair by the window. No sooner were you in the room with him than you felt the power and magnetism of the man. It was as though the injuries which had left him a cripple had resulted in concentrating the vitality of his shattered body into a narrower and more intense focus. He had a fine head, the red of the hair slightly grizzled. The face was rugged and powerful, deeply sun-tanned, and the eyes were a startling blue. There was no sign of illness or feebleness about him. The deep lines on his face were the lines of suffering, not the lines of weakness. Here was a man who would never rail against fate, but accept it and pass on to victory. He said, “I’m glad you’ve come.” His quick eyes took them in. He said to Melchett, “You’re the chief constable of Radfordshire? Right. And you’re Superintendent Harper? Sit down. Cigarettes on the table beside you.”

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