Chapter 7 Chapter 7 The Blue Geranium

"When I came here last year..." Henry Clithering paused after saying this. Mrs. Bantry, the hostess, looked at him expectantly. The ex-Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police was staying at the house of his old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Bantry.They also live near St Mary Mead. Mrs. Bantry, pen in hand, was seeking his opinion as to who would be suitable for a dinner party of six. "Oh?" said Mrs. Bantry, somewhat encouragingly. "When you came here last year..." "Tell me," said Sir Henry, "do you know a Miss Marple?" Mrs. Bantry was taken aback for a moment. It was so unexpected.

"Miss Marple? Who doesn't know her, a typical old lady in an old novel, very lovely, but hopelessly far from this era, you don't mean me to invite her?" "You feel a little surprised, don't you?" "A little bit, I have to admit. Never thought you'd . . . presumably you'd have some kind of explanation." "The explanation couldn't be simpler. When I came here last year, we had a habit of getting together to discuss some mysteries. There were five or six of us, each telling a story, and there was no second but the storyteller. The man knows the answer. That writer, Raymond West, opens. It's like an exercise in reasoning. Guess who's guess is closest to the truth."

"Who?" "As in those old tales, we were not at all aware that Miss Marple was going to join us in our games. But we accepted her politely, so as not to hurt the dear old lady's feelings. It turned out that , the most exciting thing about this game is that the old lady beats us every time." "what?" "I promise you - she goes straight to the truth, like a domestic pigeon knows its way home." "But it's too queer. My dear Miss Marple never even left St. Mary Mead." "Yes, but according to Miss Marple, it just happens to provide her with a steady stream of opportunities to look at human nature under the microscope."

"There is something unusual about country life," admitted Mrs. Bantry. "You can at least get a glimpse of the unfortunate side of human nature, but I don't think there's any real crime in that sense. Anyway, after dinner we Let Arthur try her with his ghost story, and I'd be very grateful if she could find out." "Why didn't I know that Arthur still believed in ghosts?" "Oh, of course he doesn't believe in ghosts, and that's what bothers him so much. It happened to him—a friend, George Pritchard, a very unremarkable little guy. , it was a nightmare for George, whether there was a ghost in the ghost story, or..."

"what is this else?" Mrs. Bantry made no answer, and after a minute or two she changed the subject to say: "You know, I like George, everyone likes him, it's hard to believe that he would... But people are doing things that are more or less incomprehensible to others." Sir Henry nodded, for he knew better than Mrs Bantry the unreasonable things people did. In this way, the dinner that day will be held as scheduled.Mrs. Bantry looked at her guests, shivering, for most English dining-rooms are exceptionally cold, and rested her eyes on the old girl who sat upright at her husband's right hand.Miss Marple wore a pair of mesh mittens today, an old-fashioned thin triangular shawl over her shoulders, and a ribbon around her snow-white hair.She was talking with great interest to the elderly Dr. Lloyd.The topic was about nursing homes and the questionable problems with nursing staff in those areas.

Once again Mrs. Bantry was surprised. She had suspected that Sir Henry was playing an elaborate joke on her, but now there was no sign of it, and maybe he was telling the truth. Her eyes continued to wander over everyone until they finally came to rest on her red-faced, broad-shouldered husband, who was talking about horse races with Jenny Hellier, a beautiful and lovely actress.This Jenny is prettier offstage (if possible) than onstage.Opening her blue eyes, she interjected from time to time in a decent tone, "Really?" "Oh, it's so interesting!" "It's so unusual!" thought.

"Arthur," said Mrs. Bantry, "you don't bother Miss Jenny about the races any more, and tell her your ghost story... George Pritchard." "Huh? Dolly, yes, but I don't know..." "Sir Henry would like to hear it, too. I mentioned it to him this morning. Now it will be interesting to hear what you all think of the matter." "Oh, go ahead!" said Jenny. "I like hearing ghost stories." "Well," said the colonel with some hesitation, "I don't believe in ghosts, but this time—" "I don't think you know George Pritchard, he was one of the nicest kind of people. His wife, a poor woman, is dead. I want to say a few more words about her. She She was a half-crippled person, and I don't doubt that she was ill, but whatever it was, she was pretentious, capricious, harsh, incomprehensible, and She blames everyone at night. George is always by her side, but no matter what George does, she feels that it is wrong, and she will only be scolded. I believe that if this happened to other men, it would have split her in half a long time ago. Wrong, Dolly?"

"She's a devil," confirmed Mrs. Bantry. "If George had blown her brains out, George would have been acquitted, even if the jury had had women." "I don't know how this situation started, and George is vague when he talks about it. I guess his wife has a hobby of fortune-telling, palm reading, and belief in supernatural forces, and George doesn't care about her as long as she feels happy." , but he refused to participate, which became another of his not. "The nurses in the family were constantly changing like lanterns. When a nurse came for a few weeks, Mrs. Pritchard began to be dissatisfied with her. There was a young nurse who also believed in the fortune-teller, and she especially liked this little nurse. But One day she suddenly quarreled with the little nurse and told the little nurse to leave. She brought back an old nurse who had taken care of her before. This old nurse was very experienced in dealing with mental patients. According to George, Nurse Coplin was someone to talk to rationally. She tolerated Mrs. Pritchard's irascibility and nervousness in a unique way.

"Mrs. Pritchard usually had lunch upstairs, and George and the nurse were discussing who would take care of the patients in the afternoon. Strictly speaking, the nurse was off duty between two and four in the afternoon, but sometimes she Also forced to give up her rest time if George wanted to do something else that afternoon. It happened again that day, but the nurse said she was going to visit a sister in Gordon Green in the afternoon and might be back later When George heard this, his face sank immediately, because he had made an appointment with someone to play golf in the afternoon. Finally, Coplin assured him: "Neither of us will be missed." George's eyes flickered A look of delight. 'The lady will have a companion this afternoon who will please her more than either of us.'

"'Who is she?' "'Wait,' Nurse Coplin's eyes twinkled with greater joy, 'let me make it clear, Zareda, a witch who can see the future.' "'Oh! God!' moaned George. 'There's a new one, isn't it?' "'Yes, no one knew her, it was introduced by my former Nurse Castles. The madam has never seen her, and the madam sent me to write to the wizard asking her to come this afternoon.' "'Well, whatever it is, I'm going to play golf this afternoon,' said George, and left the house in gratitude to the wizard Zareda.

"As soon as he got home, he found his wife was very restless. She was lying in the wheelchair as usual, sniffing the smelling salts in her hand from time to time. "'George,' she bellowed, 'what have I told you about this house, eh? I've felt wrong from the moment I moved into this house, have I told you? Uh?' "George said petulantly: 'You may have said, but I don't remember.' "'You never remember anything about me. Men have no sympathy, and you are the hardest of them all.' "'Come on, Mary, dear, it's not fair.' "'I was right. The witch said as soon as she entered the house that she sensed a bad omen and danger in the house.' "George unwisely laughed out loud. "'So you got your money's worth this afternoon?' "His wife closed her eyes, took her sniffing bottle and took a deep breath. "'How much do you hate me? You'd laugh at me with glee if I died, wouldn't you?' "George hastened to declare that he would not, and after a minute or two she went on: "'You may laugh at me, but I must finish. The house is dangerous to me, said the witch.' "George's gratitude to Zareed is now gone, and he knows that if his wife gets serious, he will definitely move to live elsewhere. "'What else did she say?' he asked. "'She couldn't tell me everything, she was very disturbed. She did say one thing, that there were violets in one of my vases, and pointing to them, she exclaimed: "'Throw these away quickly, for there shall be no blue flowers in this house, never shall there be, and remember that blue flowers will bring you bad luck.' "'You know, too,' went on his wife, 'that I have told you more than once that blue is my nemesis, that I have a natural aversion to blue.' "George was very wise this time, he didn't say something like 'I haven't heard of her before...', but asked her what this mysterious witch looks like, and his wife gave him a description with great interest. "'Black hair, tied in a bun behind the ears, eyes half-closed, dark circles, a black veil covering her mouth and chin, speaking as if singing, with a distinctly foreign accent, I think Spanish accent.' "It's a common trick of witches," he said with a laugh. "His wife immediately closed her eyes. "'I feel very ill,' she said. 'Call the nurse. It makes me feel bad not to be understood, and you know that.' Just two days later, Nurse Coplin came to George, ashen-faced. "'Go and see the lady, she has a letter which troubles her.' "The madam had a letter in her hand, and as soon as she saw him she drew it out. "'Look at the letter,' she said. "George began to read the letter, which smelled strongly of perfume, with large writing and ink stains all over the paper. "'I see the future, and watch out for it before it's too late—look out for the full moon, blue primroses for warning, blue hollyhocks for danger, blue geraniums for death...' "George couldn't help laughing, and Coplin gave him a quick look, so he said awkwardly: 'The witch may be trying to scare you. Besides, where are the blue primroses and blue primroses? Where's the hollyhock?" "Mrs. Pritchard still began to cry, saying her days were numbered. When Nurse Coplin left her room with George, and when they reached the bend of the stairs, George couldn't help it anymore, and finally spoke up." :'Absurd to the extreme.' "'Maybe.' "The tone in which Coplin said this startled George, who looked at her suspiciously. "'Stupid, well, you don't believe that too...' "'No, no, Mr. Pritchard. I don't believe in fortune-telling, it's all bullshit. What confuses me is that, generally speaking, fortune-tellers don't do it for nothing, it's always you. How much money he will give you, but this witch is obviously trying to scare the wife, what good does it do her? I don't know what she is planning? And...' "'What else?' "'The lady said she seemed to find this Zareda familiar.' "'yes?' "'Yes, I don't like all that much, Mr. Pritchard, that's all.' "'I had no idea you were so superstitious.' "'I'm not superstitious, but I always know when something's going wrong.' "Five days after this conversation, the first strange incident occurred. In order to facilitate the description, I must first describe Mrs. Pritchard's room." "That would be better for me, dear," interrupted Mrs. Bantry. "Her room is covered with a new type of wallpaper, and each wall is surrounded by various The flowers surround the perimeter and give the feeling of being in a garden. Of course the flowers themselves are not right. I mean it’s impossible for so many varieties to bloom at the same time.” "Don't let your professional eye for gardening cloud your narrative, Dolly. We all know you have a special passion for gardening," her husband said. "That would be absurd," retorted Mrs. Bantry, "to put bluebells, daffodils, white lupines, hollyhocks, and asters all together." "It's very unscientific," said Sir Henry, "but go on." "Among these fringe bushes are yellow primroses, pink primroses, and . . . oh, your turn, Arthur." Colonel Bantry took over and continued the story. "One morning, Mrs. Pritchard rang the bell hurriedly, and the housekeeper ran away immediately, thinking she was going crazy again, but it was not the case, she was extremely restless, pointing to the wallpaper, there, among the flowers, really A blue flower appeared." "Ah!" said Miss Marple, "it's dreadful!" "The question is, was the blue primrose there in the first place? George and the nurse are of the opinion. But Mrs. Pritchard will not let the blue flower last so long, no matter how much she spends." She was there all the time. She hadn't noticed the blue flowers there until that morning, and besides the full moon the next night, it nearly broke her." "That same day I met George and he told me everything," continued Mrs. Bantry, "and I went to see Mrs. Pritchard and explained the whole thing to her as best I could. How absurd, but to no avail. I left her worried. I remember meeting Jenny Instor the other day, and I talked to her about it. Jenny was such a weird girl, she asked: 'Puri Is Mrs. Chad really very frightened?' I told her I thought the woman was going to die of fright, she was superstitious." "I was quite taken aback by what Jenny said next. She said, 'That would be the best ending, wouldn't it?' She said it in such a calm, dry tone that I was flabbergasted. I know people today speak directly and without mercy, but I'm still not used to this way of speaking. Jenny looked at me strangely and smiled and said: 'You sure don't like me saying that, but it's the way it is .What does Mrs. Pritchard's life mean to herself? It means nothing. But Mr. Pritchard lives in hell. His wife is scared to death, and it can't be better for him.' I said George had been good to her. She said: 'Yes, he deserves a medal for that, poor man. George Pritchard was an attractive man, the one who had just been thrown out. Nurse, what's the name of that lovely girl? Oh yes, Castells, I think so, and they quarreled about it.' "I don't want to hear any more from Miss Jenny. Of course, anyone would suspect..." Mrs. Bantry stopped deliberately. "Yes, my dear," said Miss Marple quietly. "People always do. Is Miss Instor pretty? I suppose she plays golf too!" "Yes, she can play all kinds of sports, and looks good, very attractive, healthy complexion, and a pair of beautiful steady blue eyes. If it is not the case, everyone thinks they are very good couple." "Are they friends?" asked Miss Marple. "Yes, they are very good friends." The colonel said, "Dolly, can I finish the story?" "Arthur wants to go on with his ghost story," said Mrs. Bantry resignedly. "George himself told me what happened after this," went on the Colonel. "No doubt Mrs. Pritchard was in a state of dread for the next month. She crossed out the days on the calendar." , until another full moon came. On the night of the full moon, she called both George and Nurse Coplin to her room and asked them to carefully look for blue flowers on the wallpaper, but it turned out that there were only pink and yellow flowers Hollyhocks, no blue flowers. As soon as George left her room, she locked the door..." "The next morning there was a blue hollyhock," said Miss Helier excitedly. "Exactly," said Colonel Bantry, "a hollyhock on the wall above her head turned blue. It shocked George, and the more he was surprised the less he wanted to take it as a serious matter." Instead, he insisted that the whole thing was a hoax. The door was locked and his wife was the first to notice the change. No one had ever entered before, not even the nurses. Her room. Even these facts he ignored." "He was completely bewildered and out of his mind. His wife wanted to leave the house, and he insisted on not letting her go. For the first time, he began to believe in this kind of 'supernatural force', but he refused to admit it. Usually he Submissive to his wife, but this time he won't budge. 'Mary can't lie to herself any more,' he said, 'and it's all the damned nonsense.' "It went on like this for another month, and Mrs. Pritchard didn't insist too much on leaving, which was unexpected. I think she thought she was doomed. She repeated over and over again: 'Blue Primroses—warning; blue hollyhocks—danger; blue geraniums—death.” Looking at the clusters of pink geraniums on the walls around the bed, she seemed to be talking in her sleep. "The whole atmosphere was so tense that even the nurse was infected. Two days before the full moon, the nurse came to George and begged him to take his wife somewhere else. George became angry again. "'If every flower on that damned wall turned into a blue devil, who would it hurt?' he cried. "'Yes, some people have been frightened to death.' "'It's nonsense,' said George. "George can be damn stubborn sometimes. Nine cows won't come back. I guess he must have the idea that it's his wife's fault, the result of her hysteria. "The unlucky night came at last, and Mrs. Pritchard locked the door as usual, very calm, in a state of fearlessness. The nurse stood beside her, very anxious, trying to give her an injection." Ning, but Mrs. Pritchard refused. 'In a way, she seemed to be enjoying it.' That's what George said of her." "How is that possible?" said Mrs. Bantry. "There must be some strange magic going on in the whole affair." "Mrs. Pritchard usually awoke around eight o'clock the next morning, without hearing the rapid ringing of the bell. At half past eight, when there was still no sound, the nurse slammed on the door, and when there was no answer, she called for George. Insisting on breaking the door open, they pried it open with a chisel. Nurse Coplin knew what was going on as soon as she saw the wife stretched out on the bed. She told George to call the doctor, but it was too late. She died about eight hours ago, the doctor said. Her bottle of smelling salts lay beside her, and on the wall near the head of the bed, a pink geranium turned bright dark blue." "It's terrible," said Miss Hellier, trembling. Sir Henry frowned. "No more details?" Colonel Bantry shook his head, but Mrs Bantry said hastily, "The smell." "What smell?" asked Sir Henry. "When the doctor arrived, he smelled a strange smell in the room. He found that the smell came from the fireplace. It was like gas. Just a little bit was not enough to kill him." "Didn't Mr. Pritchard and the nurse notice the smell of gas when they went in?" "The nurse said she smelled something; George said he didn't notice any smell at all, but something made him feel uncomfortable and depressed, and he took it as the result of being frightened. As far as I can see, Anyway, it's not gas poisoning, it's so faint you can barely smell it." "Is this the end of the story?" "Not yet, and all the stories that follow. The servants of the house, the eavesdroppers, have heard things like Mrs. Pritchard telling her husband that he hates her and that if she dies he will Very happy, and some recent conversations and all. One day she wanted to leave the house, and when she argued with George, she said, 'Well, someday I die, and I want everyone to know that you killed me ’ The man’s unlucky time was true, and George had just mixed some weed killer for the garden path the day before his wife’s death, and a servant had seen it all. He was also seen bringing his wife a glass of milk. "The gossip is spreading, and getting worse. The doctor has actually concluded that she died of some shock, fainting, heart failure, or whatever medical term he's not sure about. Whatever the terminology is. It doesn’t mean much, it was a natural death anyway. The poor man had not slept peacefully in the tomb for a month, when the order for the exhumation arrived, he was dug out of the ground.” "As I recall, the coroner's report was fruitless," said Sir Henry gravely. "Just this one, a case of smoke and fire." "It's been very strange all along," said Mrs. Bantry. "Is the fortune-teller's name Zareda? Look for her at the address she left, but the locals say they've never heard of him." "She appeared once for the blue," said Mr. Bantry, "and then disappeared altogether. For the blue - wonderful!" "Also," continued Mrs. Bantry, "the nurse, Castels, who is said to have introduced the witch, said she had never heard of such a person." The Bantrys met each other's eyes. "An incredible story," said Dr. Lloyd. "One can only make guesses, that's all." He shook his head. "Is Pritchard married to Miss Instor?" asked Miss Marple, her voice soft. "Why do you ask that?" asked Sir Henry. Miss Marple opened her blue eyes slightly. "That's important," she said. "Are they married?" The colonel shook his head and said, "We'd like them to get married, but it's been eighteen months now, and I'm sure they seldom see each other." "It's very important," said Miss Marple. "Very important." "Then you agree with me?" said Mrs. Bantry. "You think—" "Come, Dolly," said the husband, "what you're going to say is unreasonable, and you can't accuse a person without any proof." "Don't be so... so machismo. Arthur, men don't dare to say anything because they look forward and backward. It's a thing between us women. It's just a thought. Maybe, just maybe. Jenny Install pretends to be A fortune-telling witch. Mind you, she might be joking, I never suspected she meant any ill intentions, but if she did, stupid Mrs. Pritchard would have certainly been scared to death .That's what Miss Marple meant, didn't she?" "No, my dear, not quite," said Miss Marple. "If you think about it, if I wanted to murder someone, of course I wouldn't dream of it, because it's too odious and I don't like it." Murder, even by a wasp, and though I think a wasp deserves to be killed, I think a gardener would have done more humanely with it. Let me see, where did I go?" "If you wish to kill," replied Sir Henry quickly. "Oh, yes. If I want to do that, relying solely on causing people to die of fear is not a comprehensive plan. You may have read reports of people being scared to death in the newspapers, but this kind of thing is Very uncertain, neurotic people are far braver than we think. I would rather choose some way with greater certainty and make a careful plan." "Miss Marple," said Sir Henry, "don't, don't... you don't want me to resign, do you? Your plan will be perfect." Miss Marple looked at him reproachfully. "I think I've made it clear that I never intended to do any of that evil," she said. "Never would. I just wanted to put myself in ... a position to think about." "George Pritchard, you mean?" asked Colonel Bantry. "I never believed it was George, mind you, though the nurse thought it was possible that George ... a month later, at the exhumation, I went to see her and she didn't know what was going on, she couldn't really say anything, but it was clear she believed George was somehow responsible for his wife's death, and she stood her ground." "Hey..." Dr. Lloyd said, "Nurses' ideas are not completely unreasonable. I would like to remind everyone that nurses always have their own judgments. They can't say anything because there is no evidence, but they have their own opinions. .” Sir Henry leaned forward. "Go on, Miss Marple," he said encouragingly, "you are lost in your thoughts, can you tell us something?" Miss Marple was pulled back from her contemplation, blushing. "Excuse me, what did you say?" she said. "I was thinking about those district nurses. It's a tough question." "Tougher than blue geraniums?" "It depends on the primroses," said Miss Marple. "I mean, Mrs. Bantry says the flowers are pink and yellow, and if the ones that turn blue are pink, that's right, if It's yellow..." "It's the pink that's turned blue," said Mrs. Bantry. Her eyes widened, and everyone stared wide-eyed at Miss Marple. "Then, there is an answer to the question." Miss Marple said, shaking her head regretfully. "The wasp season and everything...Of course, the culprit is the smell." "I suppose it reminds you of countless country tragedies, doesn't it?" said Sir Henry. "Not a tragedy," said Miss Marple, "not to mention a crime, but it reminded me of a little trouble I had with district nurses. Nurses are human, after all, and they wear uncomfortable stiff collars." clothes, and having to be careful everywhere, and having constant trouble with the family she serves, can you believe they won't make something happen?" Sir Henry's eyes lit up. "You mean Nurse Castles?" "Oh no, it's not Castles, it's Coplin. You see, she used to stay in that house, and she used to quarrel with Pritchard. The master was an attractive man, I bet the poor thing wanted to... Well, let's not go into it. I guess she didn't know there was a Miss Instor, and when she learned there was such a Miss, she replied Turning against Pritchard, she did everything she could to hurt the family, and in the end, that letter betrayed her, right?" "Which letter?" "Written a letter to the fortune-teller at Mrs. Pritchard's request, and the fortune-teller came later, as if in reply to that letter, but later investigation found that there was no such person at that address at all. This is enough to say Nurse Coplin was involved. She wrote a false letter . . . What could be a more plausible conjecture than that she herself was the fortune-teller?" "It never occurred to me that there was an article in this letter," said Sir Henry. "Of course it is of considerable importance." "It's a risky move," said Miss Marple. "Despite all her adornments, Mrs. Pritchard might recognize her. Of course, if recognized, she would say yes." It's just a joke." "What do you mean when you say, 'If I'm going to do that, it's not good enough to have a plan to scare people to death'?" asked Sir Henry. "Whether that method of murder will work is the least certain," said Miss Marple. "No, I think the warnings, the blue flowers, etc., are just... to borrow military terms..." She smugly Smiled, "Pretend." "So what's under that disguise?" "I've always had wasps flying in my head," said Miss Marple, "and it would be a disaster if there were thousands of these little things. Especially in a beautiful summer like this. Potassium cyanide, when shaken up and down in the bottle with water, seems too much like smelling salts. If these potassium cyanides were put in a sniffing bottle, exchanged with Mrs. Pritchard's - poor Woman, who was in the habit of smelling salts, and you say the bottle of smelling salts was found near the dead man's hand--it follows that Nurse Coplin surreptitiously replaced the bottle when George went to call for the doctor. Turn on the gas a little, and let the gas mix with the smell of potassium cyanide, which produces a sort of almond-like smell, so no one can tell what the smell is. I have heard that cyanide in the human body after a period of time is It will disappear without a trace, leaving no trace. Of course, I may be completely wrong, and there may be something completely different in the bottle, but whatever it is, it doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Miss Marple stopped, a little out of breath. Jenny Hellier leaned forward and asked, "But what about those blue geraniums, and those flowers?" "Nurses all have some litmus papers on hand, right? It's not a good thing for experiments. I don't want to go into details about it. I also did a little bit of nursing work before." Miss Marple blushed a little when she said this . "The blue test paper will turn red when it encounters acid, and the red will turn blue when it encounters alkali. It is not difficult to stick some red litmus paper on the safflower, of course, near the bed. In this way, when When the poor woman uses her smelling bottle, the strong ammonia will turn it blue, which is really tricky. Of course, those geraniums will not be blue when they are first glued to the wall. No one had noticed it at all before the accident. The nurse must have spent a minute or two holding the bottle of smelling salts against the wall while changing the bottles, I suppose." "You seem to have witnessed it, Miss Marple," said Sir Henry. "What disturbs me," said Miss Marple, "is that poor George and that dear Miss Instor, young people, are alienated by mutual suspicion, and that life is so short." She shook her head. "You needn't worry about it," said Sir Henry. "In fact I had a secret plan. We caught a nurse and charged her with the murder of her elderly patients. Because the deceased left her a fortune. She was Substituted the potassium cyanide bottle for the smelling salt bottle. There is no need for Mr Pritchard and Miss Install to be suspicious of each other." "It couldn't be better," said Miss Marple. "I don't mean murder, of course, that's too bad. It shows us the evil in the world, and you just have to give in once and... oh, come to think of it, I told Dr. Lloyd's not finished talking about the District Nurse..."