had been summoned upstairs to Miss Ramsbottom's presence, nodded her head.
"Yes," she said.
"You're a tall girl," said Miss Ramsbottom, "and you look healthy."
"I'm very healthy."
Miss Ramsbottom nodded in a satisfied manner.
"Percival's wife is pasty," she said. "Eats too many sweets and doesn't take enough exercise. Well sit down, child, sit down. Where did you meet my nephew?"
"I met him out in Kenya when I was staying there with some friends."
"You've been married before, I understand."
"Yes. Twice."
Miss Ramsbottom gave a profound sniff.
"Divorce, I suppose."
"No," said Pat. Her voice trembled a little. "They both - died. My first husband was a fighter pilot. He was killed in the war."
"And your second husband? Let me see - somebody told me. Shot himself, didn't he?"
Pat nodded.
"Your fault?"
"No," said Pat. "It wasn't my fault."
"Racing man, wasn't he?"
"Yes."
"I've never been on a race-course in my life," said Miss Ramsbottom. "Betting and card playing - all devices of the devil!"
Pat did not reply.
"I wouldn't' go inside a theatre or a cinema," said Miss Ramsbottom. "Ah, well, it's a wicked world nowadays. A lot of wickedness was going on in this house, but the Lord struck them down."
Pat still found it difficult to say anything. She wondered if Lance's Aunt Effie was really quite all there. She was, however, a trifle disconcerted by the old lady's shrewd glance at her.
"How much," demanded Aunt Effie, "do you know about the family you've married into?"
"I suppose," said Pat, "as much as one ever knows of the family one marries into."
"H'm, something in that, something in that. Well, I'll tell you this. My sister was a fool, my brother-in-law was a rogue, Percival is a sneak, and your Lance was always the bad boy of the family."
"I think that's all nonsense," said Pat robustly.
"Maybe you're right," said Miss Ramsbottom, unexpectedly. "You can't just stick labels on people. But don't underestimate Percival. There's a tendency to believe that those who are labelled good are also stupid. Percival isn't the least bit stupid. He's quite clever in a sanctimonious kind of way. I've never cared for him. Mind you, I don't trust Lance and I don't approve of him, but I can't help being fond of him... He's a reckless sort of fellow - always has been. You've got to look after him and see he doesn't go too far. Tell him not to under-estimate Percival, my dear. Tell him not to believe everything that Percival says. They're all liars in this house."
The old lady added with satisfaction, "Fire and brimstone shall be their portion."
II
Inspector Neele was finishing a telephone conversation with Scotland Yard.
The Assistant Commissioner at the other end said:
"We ought to be able to get that information for you - by circularising the various private sanatoriums. Of course she may be dead."
"Probably is. It's a long time ago."
Old sins cast long shadows. Miss Ramsbottom had said that - said it with significance, too - as though she was giving him a hint.
"It's a fantastic theory," said the A.C.
"Don't I know it, sir. But I don't feel we can ignore it altogether. Too much fits in -"
"Yes - yes - rye - blackbirds - the man's Christian name -"
Neele said:
"I'm concentrating on the other lines too - Dubois is a possibility - so is Wright - the girl Gladys could have caught sight of either of them outside the side door - she could have left the tea-tray in the hall and gone out to see who it was and what they were doing - whoever it was could have strangled her then and there and carried her body round to the clothes line and put the peg on her nose."
"A crazy thing to do in all conscience! A nasty one too."
"Yes, sir. That's what upset the old lady - Miss Marple, I mean. Nice old lady - and very shrewd. She's moved into the house - to be near old Miss Ramsbottom - and I've no doubt she'll get to hear anything that's going."
"What's your next move, Neele?"
"I've an appointment with the London solicitors. I want to find out a little more about Rex Fortescue's affairs. And though it's old history, I want to hear a little more about the Blackbird Mine."
III
Mr Billingsley, of Billingsley, Horsethorpe & Walters, was an urbane man whose discretion was concealed habitually by a misleading forthcoming manner. It was the second interview that Inspector Neele had had with him, and on this occasion Mr Billingsley's discretion was less noticeable than it had been on the former