Chapter 9 Chapter 4 The Servant's Testimony

On a sunny afternoon in September, they came to the buildings and grounds of Melfort Abbey, which could not be more peaceful.Part of the monastery was built in the fifteenth century and was later rebuilt with a side building added.The new sanatorium building and its grounds are not yet visible from here. Sir Charles and Mr. Satterthwaite were received by Mrs. Leckie, the cook. She was a fat woman in a long, elegant black dress.She talked non-stop with snot and tears.She knew Sir Charles, and she did most of their conversation alone. "I'm sure, sir, you understand how much my master's death and all that has happened has affected me. There are policemen here and there, looking here and there with their noses up. You won't believe it, even Dustbins they put their noses in and sniff. And ask all kinds of questions! They shouldn't keep asking questions. Ah, I've never seen that happen in my life. Sir Bartholomew was a quiet gentleman all his life , as well. Beatrice and I remember very well, it was a day of lightning for all of us. Beatrice came two years after me. Police brother asked some questions (If he was a gentleman, I wouldn't call him a brother. I'm used to gentlemen, used to their way of life, know everything about them), I called him a brother, I said, don't know if he is a policeman Governor."

Mrs. Lakey paused, took a breath, and let herself out for a moment from the rambunctious conversation she had sunk into. "You're going to ask about all the servants in the house, 'Inquiry' is what I call myself. They're good girls, and every one of them. It's not just Doris who's up when she's supposed to be doing things in the morning. , I have to say this twice a week. And Vicki, she's prone to being rash. But, here, you don't expect little girls to be trained...their parents don't teach them anything these days, but good girls. The cops can't make me say anything to the contrary. 'Yeah,' I said to him, 'you don't expect me to say bad things about them. They're good girls, really. Well, I said asking such a question is completely malicious.'”

Mrs Lakey paused for a moment and then said: "Mr. Ellis' situation is different now. I don't know anything about him, so I can't answer any questions about him. Mr. Baker was recommended here from London while he was on leave, and he's very interested in the situation here. Very strange." "Baker?" asked Mr. Satterthwaite. "Mr. Baker was Sir Bartholomew's butler for seven years, sir. He was in London most of the time, living in Harley Street. You will remember him, sir, will you not?" she asked of Sir Charles. Jazz nodded. "Sir Bartholomew used to bring him here at receptions at the villa. But he has been in poor health, Sir Bartholomew said. He gave the butler a month or two of leave. Spending time on the seashore near Brighton and paying him as usual. The doctor is a very nice man. Mr. Ellis is on his temporary employment. So I said to the inspector I couldn't say anything about Mr. Ellis .From what he says, he seems to have been working in the best of families. He has a distinctly gentlemanly air about him."

"You didn't notice anything... unusual about him?" asked Sir Charles hopefully. "What a strange question you ask, ser. I have told you, so to speak, and I have not told you. Do you know what I mean?" Sir Charles looked at her encouragingly, and Mrs Lakey went on. "I can't say exactly what it is, sir, there's something wrong with it..." Afterwards, Mr. Satterthwaite thought grimly, the same.However much Mrs. Lakey despised the police, she could not deny the police's inferences.If Ellis had really been a criminal, Mrs Leckie would have noticed something.

"There's one thing to say, he's a cold, haughty guy. Oh, but he's really polite, like a gentleman, like I just said. He's been working for the rich, but he's very quiet and often alone. Staying in his own bedroom. And he's... well, I don't know how to describe him... he's, this... always has problems." "You suspect that he...isn't a real butler?" suggested Mr. Satterthwaite. "Oh, he's been working, it's true, ser. He knows everything . . . and the famous people in society." "Give me an example?" Sir Charles suggested politely.

Mrs Lakey, however, became hesitant and vague.She did not intend to expose the gossip of the servants in the hall, which would damage her integrity. To calm her down, Mr. Satterthwaite said: "Perhaps you can describe his appearance." Mrs Lakey's eyes lit up and she spoke. "Indeed, ser. He's a very respectable-looking man. Bearded, gray-haired. A little stooped and stout--it worries him, really. He has a trembling hand, too, but Can't figure out what caused it. He's a very thrifty fellow, unlike a lot of people I know. There's something wrong with his eyes, sir, and I think it's from the lights, especially the very Strong lighting. He wears glasses when we're not around, but he doesn't wear them when he's on duty."

"Has he no particular markings?" asked Sir Charles. "No scars? No wounded fingers? No birthmarks?" "Oh, no, ser, none of those things." "How can a good detective story be true!" sighed Sir Charles. "There is always something remarkable about the criminal in the story." "He's lost a tooth," said Mr. Satterthwaite. "Perhaps, sir, I have never seen it myself." "On the night of the tragedy. How was his behaviour?" asked Mr. Satterthwaite.Looks a little bookish. "Well, sir, I really can't tell. I'm in the kitchen. You see, I'm too busy to notice him."

"Yes, that's right." "We were all stunned when the news came that the master had died. I couldn't stop crying. So was Beatrice. The little maids seemed nervous, and certainly sad. Ellis Sir, of course, was not as distressed as we were, he was new here. But he was very considerate, and insisted that Beatrice and I should have a small glass of wine to calm the shock. Come to think of it, he was the whole evening... This criminal..." Mrs Lakey was at a loss for words, and there was an angry look in her eyes. "I heard he disappeared that night?" "Yes, sir. He went back to his bedroom like all of us. He was gone in the morning. That, of course, brought him to the attention of the police."

"Yes. Yes, he was really stupid. How do you think he got out of this house?" "Not at all. The police seem to have been looking at the house all night, and they didn't see him get away. That's what the police are, but they're human. Like us, though they create tension and break into gentlemen's houses, Hold your nose up and look around." "I've heard people ask about secret passages," said Sir Charles. Mrs. Lakey drew a breath. "That's what the police asked." "Is there really a channel?" "I've heard it mentioned," replied Mrs. Leckie cautiously.

"Do you know where the passage comes from?" "No, I don't know, sir. It would be nice to have a secret passage, but that's not something a servant knows. If the girls know, they'll think there's a way out there. My girls Go out through the back door, and come in through the back door, so it’s clear where you are.” "Very well, Mrs. Leckie, I think you are a very clever fellow." Mrs Lakey looked up at Sir Charles's compliment. "I don't know," continued Sir Charles. "Can we ask the other servants a few questions?" "Certainly, ser. But there are no more of them than I tell you."

"Oh, I see. I'm not going to ask too many questions about Ellis, I'm asking about Sir Bartholomew himself. How he behaved that night and all. He's mine, you know. a friend." "I know, sir. I understand. There was Beatrice, there was Alice. She was at the table, of course." "Okay, I'd like to see Alice." In any case, Mrs. Leckie respected the elder's words.Beatrice, the housemaid, is the first to appear. She was a tall, lanky woman with tight-set lips and a prim, aggressive look.Sir Charles, after a few inconsequential questions, led the conversation to what had happened that ill-fated night at the reception at the villa.Is each of them very distressed?What did they say?What did you do?There was a wave of excitement in Beatrice's speech.She has an uncannily eccentric penchant for tragic events. "Miss Sutcliffe was horrified. She's a very kind lady. She's lived here before. I suggested she have a sip of brandy, or a cup of tea, but she wouldn't listen, just took a couple of aspirins, and said she was sure Couldn't sleep. When I took her tea the next morning, she was still sleeping with her head covered like a child." "Where's Mrs. Dax?" "I don't see anything that would disturb that lady." From Beatrice's tone, she didn't like Cynthia Dykes. "Her? Just in a hurry. Says her business is going to be delayed. She's a cutter in a big women's sewing shop in London. That's what Mr. Ellis told us." For Beatrice, sewing was a "business" she despised. "And what about her husband?" Beatrice sniffled and said: "He drank brandy, and he steadied his nerves. Some people would say that he drank it and couldn't." "How about Mrs. Mary Lytton Gore?" "A very fine lady," said Beatrice, softening her voice. "My aunt worked for her father at the castle. I have often heard her say that Lady Mary was a pretty little Girl. Now she may not be rich anymore, but she is also a lady, and she is very considerate. She never troubles you and always speaks well. Her daughter is also a very good lady. Of course , they don't know Sir Bartholomew very well, but they are very sorry." "Where's Miss Wells?" Beatrice's old stern tone returned. "It is safe to say, sir, that I cannot tell what exactly Miss Wells thinks of the matter." "And what do you think of her?" asked Sir Charles. "Say, Beatrice, you are very reasonable." A smile broke suddenly on Beatrice's dull cheek.Sir Charles had the entreaty of a schoolboy.She was also overwhelmed by the attraction, felt so strongly by the two listeners. "Really, sir, I don't know what you want me to say?" "Just what you think of Miss Wells. How do you feel about her?" "Nothing, ser, nothing at all. Of course she couldn't be..." Beatrice hesitated. "Go on, Beatrice." "Well, she's not of the class of the other guests, sir. I know she can't hide it," Beatrice continued. "She does things that a real lady wouldn't do. She pokes her head, sir, you know what I mean? She pokes her head and asks about." Sir Charles tried to clarify her statement further, but Beatrice remained vague, saying only that Miss Wells was poking around and asking.Sir Charles asked her to give an example of probing, but Beatrice could not.She just repeated that Miss Wells was always asking about things that didn't concern her. In the end, they had to call it a day. asked Mr. Satterthwaite again. "No one expected the sudden arrival of Mr. Manders, did they?" "Yes, sir. His car had been in an accident, and it ran right against the door of the porter's house. He said he was lucky to have had an accident here. The house was full at the time, and Miss Linden was there for him in the little study." Made a bed." "Were everyone surprised to see him come?" "Oh, yes, sir. Of course, sir." Beatrice had no comment when asked what she thought of Ellis.She rarely sees him.He was bad enough to run away, but she didn't believe he could hurt his master.Who would do that. "Will you tell me about him? Doctor, I mean. Does it look like he's expecting this villa reception? What's he thinking?" "He looked very happy, sir. He was all smiles all day, as if thinking of some joke. I even heard him joke with Mr. Ellis. That's something he never said to Mr. Baker. He didn't usually tell the servants." What a good face, he is very kind, but he doesn't talk much to the servant." "What did he say?" asked Mr. Satterthwaite eagerly. "Well, I can't think of it for a while, sir. Mr. Ellis came over to convey the content of a call. Sir Bartholomew asked him if he remembered his name clearly. Mr. Ellis said there was no problem. Of course he was very polite Saying so. Then the doctor laughed and said 'You're a good fellow, Ellis. You're a perfect housekeeper. Say, Beatrice, what do you think?' I'm alarmed, sir, my lord Talking like that. It's not like the usual tone... I just don't know what to say." "And what about Ellis?" "He looked displeased, sir, as if he had never seen anything in his life, and was a little stupefied." "What was the call?" asked Sir Charles. "The content? Sir. Oh, it's from the sanatorium. It's about a patient who has arrived at the sanatorium and is safe and sound on the way." "Do you remember her name?" "That's a strange name," said Beatrice after a moment's delay. "Mrs. de Rushbridge, that seems to be the name." "Oh, yes," Sir Charles reassured her. "Even a simple name can't be said over the phone. Well, thank you very much, Beatrice. We can see Alice now." .” When Beatrice left the room, Sir Charles and Mr. Satterthwaite exchanged glances to communicate their thoughts. "Miss Wells is poking around, asking; Dax is drunk; his wife is indifferent. Is there anything else? Insignificant." "Very little indeed," agreed Mr. Satterthwaite. "Let's pin our hopes on Alice." Alice was a demure, dark-eyed girl of thirty.She would love to talk to them. She herself does not believe Mr Ellis has anything to do with the case.He is very gentlemanly.The police thought he was a cheap villain.Alice was sure he wasn't that type of guy. "Are you sure he is an ordinary man loyal to God?" "Not ordinary, ser. He's not like the stewards I used to meet when I was at work. He arranges work differently." "You think he won't poison your master?" "Oh, sir, I don't see how he could have done that. I was standing with him at the table, and there was no way he could have put anything in the master's pantry without me noticing it." "What about the drink?" "He went round with the wine, sir. Sherry first. Soup, then white and claret. What else could he do, sir? If there was anything in the wine, he'd poison all the man--or, rather, poisons the drinker. Whatever the master has eaten, no one else has not eaten, and drank the same wine, and all the gentlemen drank it, and some of the ladies too. drank." "Were the glasses taken from the tray?" "Yes, sir. I took the tray. Ellis put the glass on it. Then I walked out of the pantry with it. When the police came to check, everyone was there, and the glasses of wine were on the table. The police found nothing." "Are you sure the doctor didn't eat or drink anything at supper that no one else took?" "I didn't see it. In fact, I'm sure I didn't." "Did any of the guests take anything from him?" "Oh, no, sir." "Do you know about the secret passage, Alice?" "I was told by a gardener. The exit of the passage is in the woods, where there is a heap of old walls and fallen bricks and stones. But I never saw any entrance in the house." "Did Ellis never mention the passage?" "Oh, no, ser. I bet he wouldn't know there was a passage." "Alice, who do you think killed your master?" "I don't know, sir. I can't believe anyone would have done that... I feel it must have been an accident." "Uh, thank you, Alice." "If it hadn't been for Babington's death," said Sir Charles, after the girl had left the room, "we could think of her as the murderer. She was a pretty girl... She was standing at the table and doing her bidding... No, that won't do. Bar Binton was killed; Tolly never looked at pretty girls. He wasn't killed that way." "But he's fifty-five," said Mr. Satterthwaite thoughtfully. "Why do you say this?" "This is the age when a guy loses his mind about a girl - even if he hasn't had an affair in the past." "You're talking nonsense, Satterthwaite. I'm . . . er . . nearly fifty-five, too." "I know," said Satterthwaite. Sir Charles quickly closed his eyes before his friendly but piercing gaze came. Mr. Satterthwaite saw it clearly, he blushed...