Chapter 5 Section 5
"I thought it wouldn't matter if I hit a few iron golf clubs on the hunting ground?" Lucy asked. "Oh, of course it doesn't matter. Do you like golf?" "I don't play very well, but I like to practice a lot, and it's more enjoyable than just going for a walk." growled Mr. Rickinthorpe. "Only sidewalks, and those poor crate houses, and they want to take my land and build more houses, but not until I die. I'm not going to die to please them." Damn, I can tell you this! I don't want to please anyone!"
Emma said softly: "Father, don't—" "I know what they think—and what they wait for, all of them, Cedric, and that crafty Harold with a smug look on his face. As for Alfred, I don't know if he himself tried to kill me. At Christmas time, it's hard to say that he didn't have that kind of intention. At that time, my illness turned so strange that it made old Jinbo very troubled. He asked carefully I have a lot of problems." "Father, everyone gets that indigestion from time to time." "Okay, okay. Just say I eat too much! That's what you mean, why should I Eat a lot? Because there is too much food on the table—too much. Waste and extravagance. Speaking of which, I remembered—girl. Your lunch today is five potatoes— They are big. Two potatoes are enough for any one person. So don't send more than four in future, and the extra one today is wasted." "It's not wasted, Mr. Crackenthorpe, I intend to Made Spanish omelets with it tonight." "Ah!" heard him say as Lucy took out the coffee tray, "cunning girl, there's always a reason. But it cooks well, and, She's a pretty girl too."
Lucy Esborough had the foresight to bring a set of golf clubs, and she took out a light iron, went to the pasture, and climbed over the fence.
She started with a series of shots, and after about five minutes a ball apparently went sideways and rolled against the railroad embankment.Lucy walked over and began to search, and she looked back towards the villa.The house was far away, and no one would have the slightest interest in what she was doing, and she continued to find the ball, which she would occasionally hit from the embankment to the grass below, and she searched the embankment for three minutes that afternoon. For one, nothing was found.So, she went all the way to the villa.
Then, on the second day, she stumbled across something, a thorny bush halfway up the embankment had broken off, some twigs were scattered about, and a fragment of fur hung from a thorn.The fur was almost the same color as the bush, a kind of ecru.Lucy looked at it for a moment, then, taking a pair of scissors from her pocket, carefully cut the piece of fur in two.The cut half, which she put in an envelope she carried in her pocket, walked down the embankment, and searched about to see if there was anything else to be found.She examined the rough grass in the field carefully, thinking she could make out a sign of someone walking in the long grass.However, it was very vague—not as clear as the footprints she had stepped on, which must have been left some time ago, because it was too unclear, so she couldn't be sure if it was just her own imagination.
Under the broken bush, under the embankment, she began to search the grass carefully.Before long, her search paid off.She found a compact, a small, cheap franc compact.She wrapped it in a handkerchief and put it in her pocket.She continued her search.However, nothing was found again.
The next afternoon, she jumped into her car to visit her sick aunt.Emma Crackenthorpe said kindly, "There's no hurry to get back, we don't need you before supper." "Thank you, but I'll be back by six o'clock at the latest."
Four Madison Road was a rough little house in a mean street.The house had very clean Nottingham lace curtains.The steps were washed white and shiny, and the handles were polished brightly.The door was opened by a tall, stern-looking woman.She was wearing a black dress, iron-gray hair, and a big bun.
She eyed Lucy distrustfully as she led her into Miss Marple's room.
Miss Marple occupied a rear sitting-room, looking out on to a neat, square garden.The room was exceedingly clean, with many cushions and doilies, and much china, and a slightly larger King Jamesian set, with two ferns in pots.Miss Marple was busy knitting in the big chair by the fire.
Lucy came in and closed the door.She sat down in the chair opposite Miss Marple. "Ah," she said. "You guessed right, it seems."
She brought out what she had found and explained in detail how it had been discovered.
Miss Marple's face flushed brightly, showing the excitement that the plan had been accomplished. “Maybe one shouldn’t feel that way,” she said, “but there’s something very satisfying about having an idea and then finding a proof that you know your idea is right.”
She played with the fur. "Esby said the woman wore a beige fur coat. I think the compact was in the pocket of that coat, and fell out when the body rolled down the slope. Now this seems unclear, but, This discovery is helpful. You didn't take the whole piece of fur off, did you?" "Yes. I left the other half on that thorny bush." "Exactly. My dear, you are very smart. The police will Definitely checked." "Are you going to the police station—are you going to take these things?" "That's—not yet..." Miss Marple considered, "I think it would be better to find the body first; you Do you think so?" "Yes, but isn't that a bit of a stretch? I mean, suppose your estimate is correct, and the murderer pushed the body off the train. Then, suppose he got off at Brackhamton." —then, on some occasion—probably the same night—to go to the place and remove the body. But what then? He might remove it anywhere.” “Not anywhere,” Miss Marple said, "I don't think you've taken the matter to a reasonable conclusion, my dear Miss Esborough." "Call me Lucy. Why not anywhere?" "Because, if so. It was much easier for him to kill the woman in a secluded place and then remove it. You don't realize—"
Lucy interrupted her. "You mean—you mean—that it was a premeditated murder?" "I didn't think so at first," said Miss Marple. "We don't, of course. It seemed to me at first A quarrel. A man lost control and strangled the woman. Then he was faced with the problem of how to get rid of the body—and that problem had to be solved in a few minutes. However, if he Strangled the woman, then looked out the window and saw the car was turning, just in a place where he could push the body down. And he must find that place later, and then remove it. If so, it's a coincidence No! If he had thrown the body there by chance, he could have done nothing else. Then the body would have been found."
She paused for a moment.Lucy watched her intently. "You know," said Miss Marple thoughtfully, "it's a smart idea if there's a plan for murder. So I thought it was very carefully planned. Trains are one of the least traceable places. If If he killed her in a place where she lived or stopped, then someone would notice him coming in, or going out. If he drove her to the country and abandoned it, someone would notice the car, its number and style. But the trains are full of people coming and going. It's easy to be alone with her in a carriage with no corridors—especially if you find out what he's going to do next, and he's got a definite plan. Well. He's familiar with everything about Rosezin Lodge--he must be familiar--very familiar with the topography of the place--I mean, the peculiar isolation. It's a railroad "It's like that." Lucy said. "It's an old place out of date. The people around are living a bustling city life, and they don't know the people in this other village. Every day In the morning, the store will send someone to deliver the necessary things." "So, we can assume that the murderer came to Losezin Villa that night as you said. It was already dark when the body fell. .It is unlikely that anyone will find out before dawn. "Yes, indeed. " "Then the murderer will come—how?"Do you drive a car?Which way to go? "
Lucy thinks about it. "Along the wall of that factory there was a rough path that turned in under the railway arch, to the driveway at the back door. He could then climb over the fence, down the embankment, find the body and carry it to the car. "Then," said Miss Marple, "he took the body to a place he had chosen beforehand. It was all thought up, and you know that. I didn't think he would move the body out of Loserzin." Outside. Or, if so, not very far away. I think, obviously, he'd bury it somewhere." She looked at Lucy inquiringly. "I suppose so," said Lucy thoughtfully, "but it won't be as easy as it sounds."
Miss Marple agreed. "You can't bury it in a hunting ground. It's too much work to dig, and it's easy to attract attention. Probably somewhere someone else has already dug?" Old and deaf now—but it would be too risky to do that."
"Are there any dogs there?"
"No."
"Well, maybe there's a shed, or a cabin?"
"That would be easier and quicker. Lots of old houses that don't work: old pigsty, tack room, workshop where no one goes near. Or he could throw it in the heather Or somewhere in the bushes."
Miss Marple nodded.
"Yes, I think, that's more likely."
At this time, someone knocked on the door.Then the stern-faced Florence came in with the tray. "It's so nice of you to have a visitor," she said to Miss Marple. "I've made you some of my special treats, scones. You used to love them." "Florence always Make the best tea," said Miss Marple.
Florence was delighted.There was an unexpected smile on her wrinkled face.Then she walks out. "My dear, I suppose," said Miss Marple, "we don't talk about murder at tea. Such an unpleasant subject!"
When tea was over, Lucy rose. "I've got to go back," she said. "I've told you. In fact, there's not a single person living at Loserzin's that's the man you're looking for. Just an old man, a middle-aged woman, and an old man. The old and deaf gardener." "I didn't say he really lived there," said Miss Marple, "I just meant he was a man who knew Rosezin's estate well, but when you find the body We'll work on that." "You seem sure I'll find the body," said Lucy, "and I don't think so optimistic." "I'm sure you'll succeed, my dear Lucy. You're such an able man. "In some respects, yes. But I have no experience in finding dead bodies." "It takes a little common sense, I believe," Miss Marple encouraged her.
Lucy looked at her, and laughed.Miss Marple smiled back.
In the afternoon of the next day, Lucy set about her search methodically.
She poked around the shed outside the villa, poking at the thorny plants that tangled in the old hunting pen.She was spying on the situation in the boiler room under the conservatory. Later, she heard a dry cough and turned around to see that it was the gardener, old Hillman, who was looking at her disapprovingly. "Be careful you don't fall, miss," he warned her. "Those steps are not safe. Neither is the hut you climbed, nor the floor there."
Lucy was careful not to appear disturbed. "I thought you thought I was nosy," she said cheerfully. "I was just wondering if there was something I could do with this place—like growing shiitake mushrooms, selling them at the market, or something like that. Who cares." "It's the man who owns it. Won't spend a dime. I should have two workmen and a kid here to help. That'll make the place look good. But he won't. I think I tried my best to persuade him to buy a lawn mower. He asked me to remove the grass in front of me by hand." "But, if this place is repaired, can we raise some things that don't like money?" "A place like this won't like money It's--too run-down. He didn't like that, anyway. He's just saving money. He knows what's going to happen to him when he's dead. The younger folks are going to sell the place, the sooner the better. They're all When he's dead. When he's dead, the place's going to sell for a lot of money. I've heard them say that." "He's a very rich man, I suppose?" said Lucy. "'Crackenthorpe's Grocery Store', that's what they kept. It was run by the old owner--Mr. Crackenthorpe's father. He was shrewd in every way. Got rich and built this shop They said he was cruel and ruthless. If he was bullied, he would never forget it. Nevertheless, he was generous and not mean at all. I heard that he was very disappointed with his two sons. He educated them and taught them Raise decent people—put them to Oxford, etc. But they think they're too dignified to be in business. The younger one married an actress and got hit and killed with a drunken drive. His elder brother—this one here—his father didn't like it. He went to foreign countries many times, bought a lot of pagan statues, and brought them home. When he was young, he didn't save money. His habit of saving After middle age. Yes, he never got on well with his father. I hear them say that."
Lucy listened to him politely and with great interest, noting the main points secretly.The old man leaned against the wall, ready to continue his long speech.He likes chatting more than doing things. "Died before the war, the old master. He had a bad temper. It was impossible to be rude to him. He couldn't bear it." "After he died, this Crackenthorpe came to live here Did he?" "He, and his family, yes. His children were almost grown up by then." "But, yes—oh, I see. You mean the war of 1914 Right?" "No, it wasn't. Died in 1928, that's what I meant."
Lucy thought 1928 could be called "before the war," but she wouldn't describe it that way herself.
She said, "Well, I guess you're going to get on with your work, don't let me keep you up." "Ah," said old Hillman nonchalantly, "there's not much to do at this time of day, the light is too bright." Difference."
Lucy went back to the cottage, looking as she went, hoping that there might be a clue in the heather or rhododendron bushes.
She found Emma Crackenthorpe standing in the hall, reading a letter whose afternoon mail had just arrived. "My nephew is coming here to-morrow--bringing a classmate. Alexander's room is above the porch, and the next room will be for James Stodler West, and they will use the one directly opposite. Bathroom." "Yes, Miss Crackenthorpe, I'll take care of getting the room ready." "They'll be here in the morning, before lunch." She hesitated, "I think they must be hungry when they first arrive. "I suppose so," said Lucy. "Roast beef, you think? Maybe some treacle flan." "Alexander likes treacle flan."
The next morning the two young men arrived, both of them with neatly combed hair, faces of unbelievable purity, and polite manners.Alexander Easterly, blond and blue-eyed; Stoddard West, brunette and wearing glasses.
Over lunch they chatted earnestly about sports, occasionally touching on the latest space novel.Their attitude was that of an older professor discussing Paleolithic tools, and Lucy felt very young compared to them.
The sirloin was gone in an instant; the molasses flan was devoid of a crumb.
Mr. Crackenthorpe muttered, "You two are going to eat me up."
Alexander's blue eyes opened wide and looked at him reproachfully. "Grandpa, if you can't afford meat, we can have bread and cheese." "Can't afford it? I can afford it, and I don't like waste." "We don't waste it, sir," said Stoddard West , while lowering his head to look at the plate in front of him, that is an obvious example. "You two eat twice as much as I do." "We're growing," Alexander explained, "and we need a lot of protein."
The old man snorted.
As the two young men left the table, Lucy heard Alexander say apologetically to his friend: "You mustn't pay attention to what my grandfather said, he probably followed the doctor's instructions to restrict his diet, so he became a little fussy." , he is also very stingy, I think it must be a kind of abnormal psychology."
Stoddard West said understandingly:
"I have an aunt who always thinks she's going broke. Actually, she's got money. It's the disease, says the doctor. Did you bring that football, Alexander?"
Lucy washed up the lunch dishes and went out.In the distance, she could hear the two young men shouting on the grass.She herself went in the opposite direction, she went up the front drive, and from there she went across to the clumps of heather.She began to search carefully, pulling up the leaves from time to time to peep in. She was methodically moving from one bush to another, poking inside with a golf club.Later, Alexander's voice startled her. "Miss Esborough, are you looking for something?" "A golf ball," said Lucy at once, "actually, several balls, and I practice golf most of the afternoon. So, I missed it." There are quite a few balls, and I really want to find some of them today." "We'll help you find them," Alexander said earnestly. "Thank you for your kindness. I thought you were playing football." "You can't play football all the time," explained Stoddard West. "It will be very hot. Do you often play golf?" I like playing games very much, but I don’t always have many opportunities.” “I don’t think so, did you cook the rice and tea here?” “That’s right.” “Did you cook today’s lunch?” “Yes , are you okay?" "It's great." Alexander said, "Our school food is terrible, it's all dry. My favorite beef is pink inside and very juicy. I ate it today The molasses flan is amazing too." "You have to tell me what I like." "Can we have some meringue rolls with ice cream fruit inside?" "Of course."
Alexander sighed happily. "There's a '' set in the stairwell," he said. "We can make holes in the grass, would you be interested, Stodler?" "Wow!" said Stodler. "He's not really Australian," Alexander explained politely, "but he's practicing saying that in case his family takes him abroad next year to watch the Anglo-Australian cricket championship."
Encouraged by Lucy, they went for the bell golf set.Later, when Lucy returned to the villa, she found them arguing over the location of the tee number plates. "Let's not set it up like a clock," Stoddard said, "that's a kid's play, we're going to set it up as a fairway with long holes and short holes, but the number plates are all rusted. , barely read." "Needs some white paint," said Lucy, "you'll have to go buy some tomorrow and paint the sign." "Good idea," said Alexander with a broad smile, "ah, at that' There's some old cans of paint in the Long Warehouse—from a previous painter, shall we go and have a look?" "What's a 'Long Warehouse'?"
Alexander pointed to a long stone building near the back lane, not far from Biezhuang. "It's an old house," he said. "Grandfather called it a leaky warehouse, and he said it was an Elizabethan building. But that's bragging. The house was sometimes used as a 'whist board fraternity.' Things like that, it's all women's association stuff, and sometimes conservative handicraft auctions are held there. Come, go and see that place."
Lucy happily accompanied them.
The warehouse had a huge, lighted oak door.
Alexander held up his hand and went to the upper right-hand side of the door to remove a key from the ivy-covered nail.He turned in the lock, then pushed the door open and they went in.
At first glance, Lucy thought the house looked like a very bad museum.Two stone heads of Roman emperors with bulging eyes glaring at people.There is a huge sarcophagus from the decline of Greco-Roman art, and a stone statue.The smirking Venus stood on the pedestal, holding the clothes that were about to fall off with one hand.In addition to these works of art, there are two trestle tables, a few stacked chairs, and some assorted odds and ends, like a rusty walk-behind lawnmower, two buckets, and two bug-infested cars The seat, an iron garden chair painted green, had one foot missing.
"I think I've seen paint here," Alexander said uncertainly.He went to a corner and drew back the worn curtain covering the corner.
They found two cans of paint, and brushes, which had become dry and hard.
"You really need some turpentine," said Lucy.
Even so, they couldn't find turpentine.The two young men suggested going on a bicycle to buy some, and Lucy urged them to do so.Painting those number plates would give them something fun to do, she thought, to pass the time. "This place really needs to be cleaned up," she murmured. "If only I wouldn't be so troublesome," Alexander advised her, "if there was any use for the place, it would be cleaned up. But it's hardly a time of year." "I'll have to clean it again." Is this key hanging outside the door? Is this key in that place?" "No, you know, there is no hanging in here. Nobody wants those marble things, and, anyway, they are It weighs a ton."
Lucy thought he was quite right, and she could hardly have praised old Mr. Crackenthorpe's artistic taste, which indeed seemed to be an intuitive selection of the worst works of art of an age.
After the two young men had left, she stood there looking around, her eyes resting on the sarcophagus placed there.
That sarcophagus...
The air in the warehouse had a slight musty smell, as if it hadn't been ventilated for a long time.She went to the sarcophagus.The sarcophagus had a heavy, tight lid, and Lucy looked at it thoughtfully.
Then she left the warehouse, went to the kitchen to find a heavy crowbar, and returned to the warehouse.It wasn't an easy task, but she pried persistently.
The lid of the sarcophagus was slowly raised, allowing the iron sledge to open a gap.
The lid was pried up enough that Lucy could see inside.
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