Chapter 11 Chapter Eleven

Susan lay in bed waiting for sleep to come.After a long day, she is tired.She believed she would fall asleep immediately.Yet she lay in bed, hour after hour, without falling asleep, her eyes wide open, and her mind racing. She said that she did not shy away from sleeping in this room, on this bed.This bed is Cora Abernether... No, no, she had to leave it all behind.She has always prided herself on her calmness.Why remember what happened that afternoon less than a week ago?Think ahead... think about the future.Her future with Greg.Those properties in Cardigan... just what they wanted.The downstairs is for business, the upstairs is a lovely residence, and another room in the back is designated for Greg as a laboratory.This arrangement is very good and can save a lot of income tax.Greg would return to normalcy, free from those dreadful sudden insanity episodes.To think of the way he looked at her as if he didn't know who she was frightened her once or twice...and old Mr. Currie...he hinted...threatened: "If this happens again... "And in fact it could happen again ... it will happen again.Had it not been for the timely death of Uncle Richard...

Uncle Richard... But why do you have to think that way?He has nothing left to live on.Old, tired and sick.His son died.What a relief.Died peacefully in sleep like that.Peacefully...in sleep...if only she could sleep.No reason to sleep here hour after hour... listening to the creaking of furniture, the sound of the wind blowing the branches and hedges, and the occasional strange, pathetic hooting of owls... the sound of an owl, she thought , the countryside is a bit spooky.It's so different from the noisy, indifferent towns where one feels so safe...surrounded by people...never feel alone.And here...

Sometimes the house where the murder took place is haunted.Perhaps this villa will be known as a haunted house.Where the ghost of Cora Lansquenet resides...Aunt Cora.It was strange how since she got here she felt as if Aunt Cora had been by her side... within arm's reach.It's all idle fantasies and neuroticism.Cora Lansquenet is dead and will be buried tomorrow.There was no one else in the room save Susan herself and Miss Gilchrist.So why does she feel that there is someone in this room, someone who is right next to her... She was lying in this bed when the ax fell...was lying asleep...knowing nothing until the ax fell...and now she won't let Susan sleep...

The crunching of furniture came again...was that the sound of furtive footsteps?Susan turned on the light.Nothing at all.Neurotic, just neurotic...close your eyes... It was indeed a moan...a moan or a small moan...someone in pain...someone dying... "I shouldn't imagine, I shouldn't, I shouldn't," Susan said softly to herself. Death is the end... After death nothing exists, never to come back.Or she's bringing the past to life... a dying woman moaning... Here it comes again... louder...someone moaning in pain... But...it's true.Susan turned on the light again, sat on the bed and listened carefully.The real groan, she heard it came from the next room.

Susan jumped out of bed, put on her coat, and rushed to the door.He rushed out to the landing, knocked on Miss Gilchrist's door and went in.The lights in the room were on, and Miss Gilchrist was sitting on the bed, describing horror, her face distorted in pain. "Miss Gilchrist, what's the matter? Are you ill?" "Yeah. I don't know how...I..." She tried to get out of bed, threw up suddenly and collapsed back on the pillow. She murmured, "Please... call the doctor.Must have eaten something..." "I'll get you some baking soda. We'll see the doctor if you're not better tomorrow morning."

Miss Gilchrist shook her head. "No, see a doctor now. I'm . . . sick of it." "Do you know his phone number? Or looking for a phone book?" Miss Gilchrist gave her the phone number, then vomited halfway through. Susan dialed the phone and was answered by a male voice who seemed to be awake. "Who? Gilchrist? Port Mead. Well, I know, I'll be right over." He's really coming right away.Ten minutes later Susan heard his car pull up outside and went down to help him open the door. She explained to him as she led him upstairs. "I think," she said, "she must have eaten something. But she looks very bad."

The doctor seemed to be a good-tempered person, and he had the experience of being called out in the middle of the night, but it turned out that there was no need to go out.But as soon as he checked the woman who was moaning bitterly, his attitude changed immediately.He briefly gave a few orders to Susan and then went downstairs to make a phone call.Then go to the living room with Susan. "I have called an ambulance. She must be taken to the hospital." "So she's really serious?" "True. I gave her a shot of morphine to ease the pain. But it seems..." He broke off. "What did she eat?" "

"We had mac and cheese and soft pudding for dinner. Coffee afterwards." "You eat the same thing too?" "yes." "And you're all right? No pain or discomfort?" "No." "She didn't eat anything else? Canned fish? Or sausage?" "No. We had lunch at the Golden Samurai...after the investigative court." "Yes, of course. Are you Mrs. Lansquenet's niece?" "yes." "That's a very despicable thing. Hope they catch the man who did it." "yes." The ambulance is here.Miss Gilchrist was put into the carriage, and the doctor went away with her.He told Susan that he would call her tomorrow morning.After he left, she went upstairs to bed.

This time she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. The funeral was well attended.Most of the villagers participated.Susan and Mr Entwhistle were the only two mourners, although the rest of the family sent wreaths and garlands.Mr. Entwhistle asked why Miss Gilchrist was missing, and Susan quickly explained to him what had happened in a low voice.Mr Entwhistle raised his eyebrows. "It's kind of weird, isn't it?" "Oh, she's doing better this morning. They called me from the hospital. People have bile abnormalities. Some people make a big fuss." Mr Entwhistle said no more.He turned back to London immediately after the funeral.

Susan went back to the villa.She found some eggs and made an omelet.Then she went back to Cora's room and began to arrange the dead woman's things.The arrival of the doctor interrupted her tidying up. The doctor looked worried.He answered Susan's inquiry that Miss Gilchrist was much better. "She will be discharged from the hospital in another day or two," he said. "Fortunately, I arrived in time. Otherwise... almost died." Susan's eyes widened. ""Is she really that serious? " "Mrs. Bankes, tell me again, Miss Gilchrist did eat and drink yesterday. Everything."

Susan thought about it, and said everything carefully.The doctor shook his head dissatisfied. "There must be something she ate that you didn't?" "I don't think so... Cake, biscuits, jam, tea... Then something for dinner. No, I don't remember any." The doctor touched his nose and walked back and forth. "Is it true that she ate something? Is it food poisoning?" The doctor gave her a sharp look.Then it seemed a decision was made. "Arsenic," he said. "Arsenic?" Susan's eyes widened. "You mean someone gave her arsenic?" " "It seems so right." "Could she have eaten it herself? I mean, on purpose?" "Suicide? She said no and she was very sane. Besides, if she wanted to kill herself, she couldn't choose to use arsenic. There are sleeping pills in this room. She can just take more sleeping pills." "Could it be that the arsenic fell into something by chance?" "I doubt it so much, it seems so improbable, but it happened. But you eat the same thing as her..." Susan nodded.She said, "It seems improbable..." Then she let out a cry. "Hey, of course, the wedding cake!" " "What? A wedding cake?" Susan explained.The doctor listened carefully. "Strange. You said she wasn't sure who sent it? Is there any left? Or is the box still there?" "I don't know. I'll look." They searched together, and finally found the white paper box with a little cake crumbs on the kitchen cabinet.The doctor carefully wrapped it in paper. "I'll keep it. Any idea where the original wrapper might be?" This time they failed, and Susan said they may have been thrown into the furnace and burned. "You're not leaving here yet, Mrs. Bankes?" His tone was gentle, but the words made Susan feel a little uncomfortable. "No, I have to pack my aunt's things. I'll stay here for a few days." "Fine. You know the police probably want to ask questions, and you don't know of anyone who ... er, probably hates Miss Gilchrist?" Susan shook her head. "I don't really know her very well. All I know is...she's been with my aunt for a few years." "Yes, yes. Always seemed like a docile woman...pretty ordinary. Not the grudge kind, you say, or the dramatic kind. Wedding cake in the mail. Sounds like something A jealous woman . . . but who would be jealous of Miss Gilchrist? Doesn't seem to make sense." "It doesn't make sense." "Oh, I gotta go. I don't know what's going on with our peaceful little place. First a brutal murder, and now an attempted poisoning. Strange, . . . one after another." He walked down the path to his car.The air in the room was not very good, and Susan left the door open and walked slowly upstairs to her original work. Cora Lansquenet was not a neat, orderly woman.There are all kinds of things in her drawers, and there are all kinds of things.There was a drawer full of cosmetics, letters and old handkerchiefs, paintbrushes etc.Some old letters and bills were stuffed in a drawer full of underwear.In another drawer, under some woolen vests, there was a cardboard box containing two fake bangs.There was another drawer full of old photos and sketchbooks.Susan was looking at a group photo apparently taken somewhere in France years ago, showing Cora, much slimmer, on the arm of a tall, thin man with a thin beard and what appeared to be a velvet coat the arm of a man Susan identified as the deceased Pierre Lansquenet. The photos aroused Susan's interest, but she put them aside, and she arranged all the documents she found in a pile and organized them in an orderly manner.About a quarter of the way through she saw a letter.She'd looked at it twice, still staring at it, when a voice behind her made her scream in terror. "What did you find, Susan? Hello, what's the matter?" Susan blushed anxiously.Her screaming was not voluntary, she felt ashamed and eager to explain. "George! You frighten me!" Her cousin smiled idly. "It seems so." "How did you get here?" "Oh, the downstairs door was open, so I walked in. There didn't seem to be anyone downstairs, so I went up. If you're asking how I got here, I left early this morning for the funeral. " "I didn't see you at the funeral?" "My old car got me together and the gas line seemed to be stuck. I fiddled with it and it finally cleared itself. So I'm missing the funeral, but I think I can come over here anyway. I know you're here .” He paused and continued: "Honestly, I called you... Greg told me you were here to 'receive property,' so to speak. I thought I could help you out." Susan said, "Don't you have to work? Or you can automatically ask for leave whenever you feel like it?" "Funerals are always a good excuse for not going to work. And this one was fake. Besides, murders are always something people think about. Anyway, I'm not going to have to go to work very much. . . A man with a way. I have better things to do." He paused and grinned. "Just like Greg," he said. Susan looked at George thoughtfully.She rarely saw her cousin, and when they did, she always found him a little elusive. "What on earth are you here for, George?" she asked. "I'm not sure I've had a lot of cameos on detective work. The funeral we attended last time made me think a lot. Aunt Cora was a blockbuster that day. I've always wondered if she was purely irresponsible and added as a joke. A little fun, or she really meant something. What was in that letter you read so intently when I came in?" Susan said slowly, "This is a letter from Uncle Richard to Cora after he came here to see her." George's eyes were really very dark.She thought they were brown but they were black, and there was something unfathomably mysterious about the dark eyes.It masks the thoughts that lie behind them. George said lazily: "Is there anything interesting up there?" "No, nothing..." "May I take a look at it?" She hesitated, then put the letter into his outstretched hand. He looked at the letter and roughly read the contents in a low, monotonous voice. "Nice to see you again after all these years...you look good...have a nice trip home and not too tired..." His voice suddenly changed and became sharper: "Please don't tell anyone what I have told you. It may be a mistake. Your dear brother, Richard." He looked up at Susan. "What does it mean?" "It could mean anything... or it could just be about his health. Or it could be gossip about a friend they both knew." "Oh yes, there are many possible meanings. No way to say for sure... but suggestive... What did he tell Cora? Does anyone know what he told her?" "Miss Gilchrist may know," said Susan thoughtfully. "I think she heard it." "Oh, yes, the companion. By the way, where is she?" "In the hospital, arsenic poisoning." George opened his eyes wide. "You're not serious, are you?" "I mean it. Someone gave her a poisoned wedding cake." George sat down in a chair and whistled once. "It seems," said he, "that Uncle Richard is right." Inspector Morton came to the villa the next morning. He is a quiet middle-aged man with a country guttural voice.His demeanor was calm and collected, and his eyes shrewd. "You know what it is, Mrs. Bankes?" he said. "Dr. Brockett has told you about Miss Gilchrist. The crumbs of the wedding cake he took from here have been tested for arsenic." "So someone deliberately poisoned her to death?" "There seems to be nothing wrong with that. Miss Gilchrist herself doesn't seem to be able to help us. She keeps repeating that it's impossible... that no one would do such a thing. But someone did. Can you give us some pointers?" Susan shook her head. "I was literally speechless," she said. "Can't you get any clue from the postmark? Or the handwriting?" "You forgot... the wrapping paper seems to have been burned. And it's a little suspicious whether it was sent by mail. Little Andrews, the postman who drove the mail van, doesn't seem to remember ever delivering the parcel. He's going to go around Big circle, and he can't be sure...but the mail package is...a bit suspicious." "But... what is the other possibility?" "Another possibility, Mrs. Bankes, is to use a piece of old khaki wrapping paper which already has Miss Gilchrist's name, address and postmark on it, and the parcel is slipped in through the mouth of a letter-box or Putting it in the door by hand gives the impression that it was delivered by the postman." He added calmly: "Pretty clever idea, you know, of choosing a wedding cake. A wedding cake can touch the heart of a lonely middle-aged woman and make her happy to be remembered. A box of sweets or something might raise suspicions." Susan said slowly: "Miss Gilchrist spent a lot of time wondering who it was from, but she didn't suspect it at all... As you say, she was delighted and right... flattered." She added: "Is the poison given enough...to be fatal?" "It's hard to tell until we get the dosimetry report. It depends on whether Miss Gilchrist ate the whole cake. She seems to say no. Do you remember?" "No... no, I'm not sure. She asked me to eat it and I said no, then she ate some and said it was a really good cake, but I don't remember if she ate it all." "If you don't mind, I'd like to go upstairs, Mrs. Bankes." "Of course I don't mind." She followed him to Miss Gilchrist's room.She apologized and said: "I'm afraid it's a mess here, but I don't have time to tidy it up. My aunt's funeral and so on. After Dr. Brockett came, I thought maybe we should keep the status quo." "You're very clever, Mrs. Bankes. Not everyone is so wise." He made his way to the bed, slipped his hand under the pillow and lifted it up carefully.A smile slowly spread across his face. "Yes," he said. A small piece of cake lay on what appeared to be a somewhat worn-out sheet. "It's queer," said Susan. "Oh, no, it's not unusual. Maybe your generation isn't like that. Girls these days probably don't think so highly of marriage. But, it's an old custom. Put a piece of wedding cake under your pillow and you'll Dreaming about your future husband." "But of course Miss Gilchrist..." "She doesn't want to tell us because she thinks it's silly to do it at her age. But I know the custom and guess it might be." His expression returned to seriousness. "And if it weren't for the spinster's follies, Miss Gilchrist might not be alive today." "But who could possibly poison her?" He met her eyes with a strange, thoughtful look in his eyes that made Susan uncomfortable. "You don't know?" he asked. "No...of course I don't know." "Then it looks as if we'll have to find out," said Inspector Maulton.