Chapter 9 Chapter IX Miss Prescott and the Other Residents

"That's what I heard," said Miss Prescott, lowering her voice again, and looking round.Miss Marple drew the chair closer.It had been a long time since she had had a chance to have a good talk with Miss Prescott.This is because pastors are men who take good care of their families. Therefore, Miss Prescott is always accompanied by her brother. Of course, with such a kind Gannon present, Miss Marple and Miss Prescott cannot Gossip without hesitation. "It seems so," said Miss Prescott; "but of course I don't mean to speak of some dark scandal, and I really don't know about such things."

"Of course I understand that," said Miss Marple. "It seems that something unspeakable happened while his first wife was still alive! It must have been the luck of the woman—such a strange name!—I think she was his older wife's cousin, and she too Came down here to meet them, and do him some flowers or butterflies or something. Talked up soon, because they got along really well—I think you know what I mean." "People really pay attention to a lot of things, don't they?" said Miss Marple. "And then, of course, his wife died suddenly—" "She died here, on this island?"

"No, it wasn't. I think they were in Martinique or Tobago then." "Oh." "However, from the people who were there at the time and came here later and often like to chat, it seems that the doctors are not satisfied." "Really?" said Miss Marple with interest. "Of course, it's only a rumour, but—Mr. Dyson is remarrying very soon." She dropped her voice again. "Not a month, I think." "Only a month," said Miss Marple. The two women exchanged glances. "It's just a little—very heartless," said Miss Prescott.

"Yes," said Miss Marple, "of course it is." Then she added tactfully, "Is there any connection with money?" "Don't know. He used to joke--perhaps you've heard him say--that his wife was his 'lucky star'--" "Yes, I heard him say it," said Miss Marple. "Some people think that means he's lucky to have a rich wife. But, of course," said Miss Prescott, in a tone of impartiality: "She's really pretty, too, if you like her type of woman. I personally think the rich one is his first wife." "Are the Hillingdons rich?"

"Very rich, I suppose. Not terribly rich, but pretty rich. Two boys go to a private high school, and I'm told they have a nice house in England; they travel a lot in the winter." At this moment Gannon appeared and beckoned Miss Priscott to go for a walk with her. Miss Prescott got up and went to her brother.Miss Marple was still sitting where she had been. A few minutes later, Greg walked past her, walking toward the restaurant.As he walked by, he waved happily to her. "What are you thinking?" he called to her. Miss Marple smiled a little, wondering how he would react if she said back, "I was thinking you were a murderer?"

Actually, he probably is.Everything seems to fit perfectly—the death of the first Mrs. Dyson.Major Balgrave did tell about a man who killed his wife--and specifically about the bride dying in the bathtub. Yes, it fits perfectly—the only thing that doesn't fit is that everything fits too well.But Miss Marple reproached herself for thinking so.Who is she, how can she casually set the standard for a murderer?A loud voice frightened her so much that she almost jumped up. "See where Greg is, er--Miss?" Miss Marple thought she had a lot of temper today. "He just came over—towards the hotel."

"I knew it!" Lucky roared angrily and hurried over. "At least I'm forty years old, and I already showed it on my face early this morning." Miss Marple murmured in her heart. Just pity came to her--she mourned for the fortunes of the world, which were so timeless.There was a sound behind her, and she moved her chair back. Mr. Raifel emerged from his cabin, supported by Jaxon, to make his morning debut. Jaxon seated his boss in a wheelchair and looked after him graciously.Mr. Raifel waved his servant away impatiently, and Jaxon walked in the direction of the hotel.

Miss Marple did not want to miss an opportunity—Mr Raffle was seldom left unattended.Maybe Esther Walders would come to see him.Miss Marple wanted to have a few words with Raifel alone, and she thought this was her chance.Moreover, she had to speak quickly if she had something to say, and she didn't need any opening remarks.Mr. Raifel is not a man who likes to listen to the old lady's gossip.If he had felt tortured, he might have fled back to the cabin.Miss Marple made up her mind to talk to him straight to the point. She walked to the place where he was sitting, pulled up a chair, sat down and said, "Mr. Laifer, I want to ask you something."

"All right, all right," said Mr. Rifle, "speak quickly. What's your request—for my contribution, eh? A church in Africa, or building a church? It's something of that sort." "Yes," said Miss Marple, "I'm really interested in the subject, and I'd be very grateful if you would donate to the work. But that's not what I want to ask you, I want to ask Did Major Belgrave tell you about a murder?" "Oh," said Mr. Rifle, "he told it too, didn't he? I think you must have been caught by him, and swallowed the fish, the thread, and the hammer all in one gulp?"

"I don't know how to believe him," said Miss Marple. "What the hell did he tell you?" "Anyway, he's talking nonsense," said Mr. Rifle. "Speaking of a beautiful woman from heaven. Young, beautiful, fair-haired, with every beauty." "Well," said Miss Marple, which she did not expect, "whom has she murdered?" "Her husband, of course," said Mr. Rifle; "who else do you think?" "Poisoned?" "No, I think she gave him sleeping pills and stuffed his head in a gas oven. Fairy woman. Then she said he killed himself. She got away easily. Only Some negligent responsibilities or something. These days, people who are beautiful, little rascals are spoiled by their mothers, etc., will be dismissed so easily. Shit!"

"Did the Major ever show you a photograph?" "What—a photograph of that woman? No. What was he showing me?" "Oh—" said Miss Marple. She sat there, stunned.It goes without saying that Major Balgrave had told people not only of his tiger and elephant shooting stories, but of the murders he had been involved in all his life.And maybe he has several murder stories.This should be an indisputable fact.She was startled when Mr. Raifel yelled, "Jackson!"But no one answered. "Shall I go and find him!" Miss Marple said, standing up. "You can't find him. Sniffing somewhere, like a stray cat. This guy is worthless. Bad bastard. But it suits me just fine." "I'll go and find him for you," said Miss Marple. Miss Marple found Jaxon sitting at the end of the hotel balcony drinking with Tim Kendall. "Mr. Rifle called you," she said. Jaxon made a sad face, drank the wine in his glass, and stood up. "You see," he said, "no peace. I thought two phone calls and a special diet would allow me to fish for at least a quarter of an hour. It's not that easy! Thank you, Marble Miss. Thank you for the wine, Mr. Kendall." He walks away. "I'm sorry for that guy," Tim said. "Sometimes to comfort him, I buy him a glass of wine. What would you like to drink, Miss Marple? How about a glass of lemonade? I know you like it." .” "Not now, thank you. I suppose it's quite a struggle to take care of a man like Mr. Raifel. A crippled man is not easy to care for." "Not only that. He's paid very well, and he also knows that such a person is fickle. In fact, old Mr. Laifel is not a bad person. I mean something else—" He hesitated. Miss Marple looked at him curiously. "It's—how should I put it?—well, he's had a lot of trouble socially. People are so snobby. There's no one of his class in this place. He's a little above the average servant, but below Ordinary customers, at least that's how they see it. He's a bit of a Victorian butler. Even the secretary thinks he's superior. It doesn't sit well with him." Tim paused. Said with emotion: "A place like this has a lot of social difficulties." Dr. Graham walked past them.With a book in hand, he sat down at a table overlooking the sea. "Dr. Graham seems to have something on his mind," said Miss Marple. "Alas! we all have concerns." "Did you have it too? For Major Belgrave's death?" "I don't bother with that anymore. The guests seem to have forgotten it, too, and everything is back to normal. Not these things, but my wife—Molly. Have you ever studied dreams?" "Dreams?" said Miss Marple, rather surprised. "Yes—bad dreams—bad dreams. Of course we all have them sometimes. But Molly—she seems to have nightmares all the time, and she's terrified. Is there anything What about a cure? Like medicine? She has some sleeping pills, but she says it's worse—she's trying so hard to wake up, but she can't.” "What are these dreams?" "Well, some one or some monster keeps chasing her. And some one keeps watching her or stalking her—she can't shake that feeling even if she wakes up." "The doctor should always be able to." "She's afraid of seeing a doctor. She doesn't listen to anyone's advice at all. Oh, I think it will pass slowly. It's just that we used to be so happy. So happy. And now, just recently— Perhaps it was the death of the old man Balgrave that disturbed her.She seems to be a different person, since..." He stood up. "Got to do something, don't you really want a glass of fresh lemonade?" Miss Marple shook her head. She sat there, lost in thought.Her face was gloomy and anxious. She glanced at Dr. Graham in the distance. Immediately, she made up her mind. She got up and walked over to the table where he was sitting. "I must ask your pardon, Dr. Graham," she said. "Is there such a thing?" The doctor looked at her gently although he was surprised, and pushed a chair for her to sit down. "I'm sorry, but I've done a most shameful thing," said Miss Marple: "I lied to you—doctor—on purpose." She looked at him timidly. Dr. Graham's face did not show panic, although it was inevitable that there was a look of surprise. "Really?" he said, "Don't worry too much about it." He thought to himself: What kind of lies did the old lady tell?her age?However, as far as he could remember, she didn't mention her age. "Can you tell me?" He said, it seems that she came here on purpose. "Do you remember that I mentioned to you a photograph of my nephew which I showed to Major Balgrave and which he did not return to me?" "Yes, yes, of course I do. I'm sorry we didn't find it for you." "There's no such thing as a photograph," said Miss Marple apprehensively. "What did you say?" "That's not the case at all. I made it up." "You made it up?" Dr. Graham asked slightly displeased, "For what?" Miss Marple told him.She didn't talk nonsense, she just told him the truth.She told him the story of the murder told by Major Balgrave, and was about to show her a photograph, when she fell into a panic which caused her own uneasiness, and finally decided to try and see if she could make it out. . "So, if I don't tell you that I lied to you, how can I proceed," she said. "I hope you will forgive me." "Do you think he's going to show you a picture of a murderer?" "That's what he said," said Miss Marple. "At least he said it was a photograph a friend of his gave him when he told him a story about a murderer." "Yes, yes, but, please forgive me for asking you, do you believe in his life?" "I don't know if I really believed it then," said Miss Marple: "But, you know, he died the next day." "Yes," said Dr. Graham, suddenly realizing the truth of that statement—he was dead the next day. "And that picture is gone." Dr. Graham looked at her, not knowing what to say for a moment. "I'm sorry, Miss Marple," he finally let go. "What you told me now—is it the truth this time?" "I don't blame you for doubting me," said Miss Marple. "I would do the same if I were you. Yes, I'm telling you the truth this time, but I also understand that there is no basis for what I say. But, Even if you don't believe me, I think I should still tell you." "why?" "I know you'll have to gather all the information you can get your hands on. In case—" "What if?" "In case you decide to take any action."