The Murder at the Vicarage. Агата Кристи

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      ‘Quite true,’ said Griselda. ‘He seems to have been writing a note to say he couldn’t wait any longer. The note was dated 6.20, and the clock on the table was overturned and had stopped at 6.22, and that’s just what has been puzzling Len and myself so frightfully.’

      She explained our custom of keeping the clock a quarter of an hour fast.

      ‘Very curious,’ said Miss Marple. ‘Very curious indeed. But the note seems to me even more curious still. I mean—’

      She stopped and looked round. Lettice Protheroe was standing outside the window. She came in, nodding to us and murmuring ‘Morning.’

      She dropped into a chair and said, with rather more animation than usual:

      ‘They’ve arrested Lawrence, I hear.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Griselda. ‘It’s been a great shock to us.’

      ‘I never really thought anyone would murder father,’ said Lettice. She was obviously taking a pride in letting no hint of distress or emotion escape her. ‘Lots of people wanted to, I’m sure. There are times when I’d have liked to do it myself.’

      ‘Won’t you have something to eat or drink, Lettice?’ asked Griselda.

      ‘No, thank you. I just drifted round to see if you’d got my beret here—a queer little yellow one. I think I left it in the study the other day.’

      ‘If you did, it’s there still,’ said Griselda. ‘Mary never tidies anything.’

      ‘I’ll go and see,’ said Lettice, rising. ‘Sorry to be such a bother, but I seem to have lost everything else in the hat line.’

      ‘I’m afraid you can’t get it now,’ I said. ‘Inspector Slack has locked the room up.’

      ‘Oh! what a bore! Can’t we get in through the window?’

      ‘I’m afraid not. It is latched on the inside. Surely, Lettice, a yellow beret won’t be much good to you at present?’

      ‘You mean mourning and all that? I shan’t bother about mourning. I think it’s an awfully archaic idea. It’s a nuisance about Lawrence—yes, it’s a nuisance.’

      She got up and stood frowning abstractedly.

      ‘I suppose it’s all on account of me and my bathing dress. So silly, the whole thing …’

      Griselda opened her mouth to say something, but for some unexplained reason shut it again.

      A curious smile came to Lettice’s lips.

      ‘I think,’ she said softly, ‘I’ll go home and tell Anne about Lawrence being arrested.’

      She went out of the window again. Griselda turned to Miss Marple.

      ‘Why did you step on my foot?’

      The old lady was smiling.

      ‘I thought you were going to say something, my dear. And it is often so much better to let things develop on their own lines. I don’t think, you know, that that child is half so vague as she pretends to be. She’s got a very definite idea in her head and she’s acting upon it.’

      Mary gave a loud knock on the dining-room door and entered hard upon it.

      ‘What is it?’ said Griselda. ‘And Mary, you must remember not to knock on doors. I’ve told you about it before.’

      ‘Thought you might be busy,’ said Mary. ‘Colonel Melchett’s here. Wants to see the master.’

      Colonel Melchett is Chief Constable of the county. I rose at once.

      ‘I thought you wouldn’t like my leaving him in the hall, so I put him in the drawing-room,’ went on Mary. ‘Shall I clear?’

      ‘Not yet,’ said Griselda. ‘I’ll ring.’

      She turned to Miss Marple and I left the room.

       CHAPTER 7

      Colonel Melchett is a dapper little man with a habit of snorting suddenly and unexpectedly. He has red hair and rather keen bright blue eyes.

      ‘Good morning, Vicar,’ he said. ‘Nasty business, eh? Poor old Protheroe. Not that I liked him. I didn’t. Nobody did, for that matter. Nasty bit of work for you, too. Hope it hasn’t upset your missus?’

      I said Griselda had taken it very well.

      ‘That’s lucky. Rotten thing to happen in one’s house. I must say I’m surprised at young Redding—doing it the way he did. No sort of consideration for anyone’s feelings.’

      A wild desire to laugh came over me, but Colonel Melchett evidently saw nothing odd in the idea of a murderer being considerate, so I held my peace.

      ‘I must say I was rather taken aback when I heard the fellow had marched in and given himself up,’ continued Colonel Melchett, dropping on to a chair.

      ‘How did it happen exactly?’

      ‘Last night. About ten o’clock. Fellow rolls in, throws down a pistol, and says: “Here I am. I did it.” Just like that.’

      ‘What account does he give of the business?’

      ‘Precious little. He was warned, of course, about making a statement. But he merely laughed. Said he came here to see you—found Protheroe here. They had words and he shot him. Won’t say what the quarrel was about. Look here, Clement—just between you and me, do you know anything about it? I’ve heard rumours—about his being forbidden the house and all that. What was it—did he seduce the daughter, or what? We don’t want to bring the girl into it more than we can help for everybody’s sake. Was that the trouble?’

      ‘No,’ I said. ‘You can take it from me that it was something quite different, but I can’t say more at the present juncture.’

      He nodded and rose.

      ‘I’m glad to know. There’s a lot of talk. Too many women in this part of the world. Well, I must get along. I’ve got to see Haydock. He was called out to some case or other, but he ought to be back by now. I don’t mind telling you I’m sorry about Redding. He always struck me as a decent young chap. Perhaps they’ll think out some kind of defence for him. After-effects of war, shell shock, or something. Especially if no very adequate motive turns up. I must be off. Like to come along?’

      I said I would like to very much, and we went out together.

      Haydock’s house is next door to mine. His servant said the doctor had just come in and showed us into the dining-room, where Haydock was sitting down to a steaming plate of eggs and bacon. He greeted me with an amiable nod.

      ‘Sorry I had to go out. Confinement case. I’ve been up most of the night, over your business. I’ve got the bullet for you.’

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