Conway Jefferson grunted. He said, “Always knew Rosamund had married a rotter. Tried not to admit it to myself. She was fond of him. Fond of a murderer! Well, he’ll hang, as well as the woman. I’m glad he went to pieces and gave the show away.”
Miss Marple said, “She was always the strong character. It was her plan throughout. The irony of it is that she got the girl down here herself, never dreaming that she would take Mr. Jefferson’s fancy and rum all her own prospects.”
Jefferson said, “Poor lass. Poor little Ruby.”
Adelaide laid her hand on his shoulder and pressed it gently. She looked almost beautiful tonight. She said, with a little catch in her breath, “I want to tell you something, Jeff. At once. I’m going to marry Hugo.”
Conway Jefferson looked up at her for a moment. He said gruffly, “About time you married again. Congratulations to you both. By the way, Addie, I’m making a new will tomorrow.”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. I know.”
Jefferson said, “No, you don’t. I’m settling ten thousand pounds on you. Everything else goes to Peter when I die. How does that suit you, my girl?”
“Oh, Jeff!” Her voice broke. “You’re wonderful!”
“He’s a nice lad. I’d like to see a good deal of him in in the time I’ve got left.”
“Oh, you shall!”
“Got a great feeling for crime, Peter has,” said Conway Jefferson meditatively. “Not only has he got the fingernail of the murdered girl, one of the murdered girls, anyway, but he was lucky enough to have a bit of Josie’s shawl caught in with the nail. So he’s got a souvenir of the murderess too! That makes him very happy!”
Hugo and Adelaide passed by the ballroom. Raymond came up to them. Adelaide said rather quickly, “I must tell you my news. We’re going to be married.”
The smile on Raymond’s face was perfect a brave, pensive smile. “I hope,” he said, ignoring Hugo and gazing into her eyes, “that you will be very, very happy.”
They passed on and Raymond stood looking after her. “A nice woman,” he said to himself. “A very nice woman. And she would have had money too. The time I took to mug up that bit about the Devonshire Starrs. Oh, well, my luck’s out. Dance, dance, little friend, and Raymond returned to the ballroom.
The End