“I must say,” said Sir Henry ruefully, “that I do dislike the way you reduce us all to a general common denominator.”
Miss Marple shook her head sadly. “Human nature is very much the same anywhere, Sir Henry.”
Sir Henry said distastefully, “Mr. Harbottle! Mr. Badger! And poor Conway! I hate to intrude the personal note, but have you any parallel for my humble self in your village?”
“Well, of course, there is Briggs.”
“Who’s Briggs?”
“He was the head gardener up at Old Hall. Quite the best man they ever had. Knew exactly when the under-gardeners were slacking off, quite uncanny it was! He managed with only three men and a boy, and the place was kept better than it had been with six. And took several Firsts with his sweet peas. He’s retired now.”
“Like me,” said Sir Henry.
“But he still does a little jobbing, if he likes the people.”
“Ah,” said Sir Henry. “Again like me. That’s what I’m doing now. Jobbing. To help an old friend.”
“Two old friends.”
“Two?” Sir Henry looked a little puzzled.
Miss Marple said, “I suppose you meant Mr. Jefferson. But I wasn’t thinking of him. I was thinking of Colonel and Mrs. Bantry.”
“Yes, yes, I see.” He asked sharply, “Was that why you alluded to Dolly Bantry as ‘poor dear’ at the beginning of our conversation?”
“Yes. She hasn’t begun to realize things yet. I know, because I’ve had more experience. You see, Sir Henry, it seems to me that there’s a great possibility of this crime being the kind of crime that never does get solved. Like the Brighton trunk murders. But if that happens it will be absolutely disastrous for the Bantrys. Colonel Bantry, like nearly all retired military men, is really abnormally sensitive. He reacts very quickly to public opinion. He won’t notice it for some time, and then it will begin to go home to him. A slight here, and a snub there, and invitations that are refused, and excuses that are made, and then, little by little, it will dawn upon him, and he’ll retire into his shell and get terribly morbid and miserable.”
“Let me be sure I understand you rightly, Miss Marple. You mean that, because the body was found in his house, people will think that he had something to do with it?”
“Of course they will! I’ve no doubt they’re saying so already. They’ll say so more and more. And people will cold-shoulder the Bantrys and avoid them. That’s why the truth has got to be found out and why I was willing to come here with Mrs. Bantry. An open accusation is one thing and quite easy for a soldier to meet. He’s indignant and he has a chance of fighting. But this other whispering business will break him, will break them both. So, you see, Sir Henry, we’ve got to find out the truth.”
Sir Henry said, “Any ideas as to why the body should have been found in his house? There must be an explanation of that. Some connection.”
“Oh, of course.”
“The girl was last seen here about twenty minutes to eleven. By midnight, according to the medical evidence, she was dead. Gossington’s about twenty miles from here. Good road for sixteen of those miles, until one turns off the main road. A powerful car could do it in well under half an hour. Practically any car could average thirty-five. But why anyone should either kill her here and take her body out to Gossington or should take her out to Gossington and strangle her there, I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t, because it didn’t happen.”
“Do you mean that she was strangled by some fellow who took her out in a car, and he then decided to push her into the first likely house in the neighborhood?”
“I don’t think anything of the kind. I think there was a very careful plan made. What happened was that the plan went wrong.”
Sir Henry stared at her. “Why did the plan go wrong?”
Miss Marple said rather apologetically, “Such curious things happen, don’t they? If I were to say that this particular plan went wrong because human beings are so much more vulnerable and sensitive than anyone thinks, it wouldn’t sound sensible, would it? But that’s what I believe and-” She broke off. “Here’s Mrs. Bantry now.”