Chapter 15 Chapter Fifteen

1 In the kitchen in the paddock, Miss Blacklock was giving Mickey instructions. "Tomato sandwiches and sardine sandwiches, and those scones you do so well, and I'm going to ask you to make your special cakes." "You want so many things, is that a party?" "It's Miss Bonner's birthday, and some people are coming to tea." "At her age, people don't celebrate birthdays, so it's best to forget." "But she doesn't want to forget. A few people are going to give her presents—so it would be nice to have a little party." "You said the same thing last time—see what happened!"

Miss Blacklock refrained from attacking. "Come on, nothing will happen this time." "How do you know what's going on in this house? I'm shaking all day, and at night I lock the door and check in the closet to see if anyone's hiding there." "It's sure to make you feel better and safer," said Miss Blacklock icily. "The cake you want me to make, is that—?" Mickey uttered a sound that sounded to Miss Blacklock's English-accustomed ears like the German word for 'sweat', or perhaps Cats spitting at each other. "That's the kind. The greasy kind."

"Yes, greasy. But I have nothing: I can't make this cake. I need chocolate, lots of cream, sugar and raisins." "You can use this pot of cream they sent us from America. And the raisins we're saving for Christmas, here's a big thick slice of chocolate and a pound of sugar." Mickey's face suddenly burst into a radiant smile. "Then for your sake, I'll do it," she exclaimed, ecstatically, "it'll be delicious and melt in your mouth: I'll top the cake with chocolate frosting, and I'll make it right, with some Write well wishes. These Brits make cakes that taste like sand, and they never, never tasted cakes like that. They'll say it's delicious, delicious—"

Shadows fell over her face again. "Mr. Patrick calls it Delicious Death. My Cake 2 I wouldn't want anyone to call it that!" "It's actually a compliment," said Miss Blacklock. "He means it's worth dying for such a cake." Mickey looked at her suspiciously. "But I don't like the word 'dead'. They're not going to die from eating my cake, no, they're going to feel really, really good..." "I believe we will." Miss Blacklock turned away from the kitchen, relieved that the conversation had come to a successful conclusion.Talk to Mickey, no one can predict the outcome.

She met Dora Bonner outside the kitchen. "Oh, Letty, do you want me to go in and show Mickey how to cut a sandwich?" "Don't go," said Miss Blacklock, resolutely leading her friend into the hall. "She's in a good mood right now and I don't want her to be disturbed." "But I can teach her how to—" "Please don't teach her anything, Dora. These Central Europeans don't like being told what to do. They hate it." Dora looked at her suspiciously, then suddenly smiled. "Edmund Swettenham called just now. He wished me a happy birthday and said he would bring me a jar of honey as a present this afternoon. Kind of nice, isn't it? I can't imagine how he would know today is my birthday."

"Everyone seems to know. You must have been talking about it, Dora." "Oh, I just happened to mention that I'm fifty-nine today." "You are sixty-four," said Miss Blacklock, with a gleam of pleasure in her eyes. "But Miss Hinchcliffe said: 'You don't see the age. How old do you think I am?' It was an embarrassing question, because Miss Hinchcliffe looked so queer, what kind of It can be any age. She said that she would bring me some eggs. I told her that our (birds) haven't laid many eggs lately." "We did very well for your birthday," said Miss Blacklock. "Honey, (again) eggs—and a big box of chocolates that Julia got—"

"I really don't know where she got such a thing." "Better not to ask. Her method may strictly be illegal." "And the lovely brooch you gave me." Miss Bonner looked down with pride at a small diamond leaf brooch pinned to her breast. "Do you like it? I'm glad. I've never liked jewelry." "I love so much." "Very well. Let's feed the ducks." 2 "Ha," Patrick exclaimed, as the birthday dinner began around the dining room table, "what's in front of me? Delicious death." "Shh," said Miss Blacklock, "don't let Mickey hear, she's very much against you calling her cakes that."

"But it's delicious death! Is it Bonner's birthday cake?" "Well," said Miss Bonner, "I'm having the best birthday ever." Her cheeks flushed with excitement.Before that, Colonel Easterbrook had bowed to her, presented her with a box of sweets, and said, "Sweets for sweethearts." She had been like that ever since. Miss Blacklock frowned at Julia, who looked away hastily. After solving the good looks on the table, everyone had another round of biscuits.After the banquet, they got up from their seats. "I feel a little sick," said Julie Kie, "because of the cake.

I remember the same thing last time. " "That's worth it," Patrick said. "These gringos are pretty good at pastry, of course," said Miss Hinchcliffe. "They just can't make plain boiled pudding." Out of respect, no one commented, although Patrick had something on his lips to ask if anyone really wanted to eat plain boiled pudding. "A new gardener?" Miss Hinchcliff asked Miss Blacklock, when they were all back in the drawing-room. "No, what's the matter?" "I saw a man poking around the (bird) shed. He looked very pompous, like a soldier."

"Oh, that," said Julia, "that's our detective." Mrs. Easterbrook threw down her handbag. "Detective?" she cried, "but-but-why?" "I don't know," said Julia, "he was walking around, staring at the house. I guess he was protecting Aunt Letty. " "Nonsense," said Miss Blacklock. "I can protect myself, thank you." "But that must have been over," cried Mrs. Easterbrook, "but I want to ask you why they stopped asking?" "The police are not satisfied," replied her husband, "that's what it means."

"But what are they dissatisfied with?" Colonel Easterbrook shook his head as if he had a lot to say if he wanted to.Edmund Swettenham, who hated the colonel, said: "The truth is we are all under suspicion." "But what's there to doubt?" asked Mrs. Easterbrook again. "Never mind, Kitty," said her husband. "Wandering purposefully," said Edmund, "with the aim of catching the murderer in the act." "Oh, no, please don't say that, Mr. Swettenham," cried Dora Bonner. "I'm sure there's no one here who might try to kill dear, dear Litty." Everyone was in a dilemma for a while.Edmund, flushing, whispered, "Just a joke." Philippa raised his voice, and suggested, word by word, that we should listen to the six o'clock news, and everyone rushed to agree. Patrick whispered to Julie Kie, "We need Mrs. Harmon here. She would have said loudly and crisply: 'But I think someone is still looking for a good chance to lay hands on Miss Blacklock! ' 'I'm glad she and that Miss Marple didn't come,' said Julia, 'that old crone is one of those snooping characters.I think she's got a lot going on in her head.Authentic Victorian character. " Listening to the news, everyone easily turned the topic to the horrors of atomic warfare.Colonel Easterbrook said that the real threat to civilization was unquestionably the Russians, and Edmund's statement that he had some charming Russian friends—a statement that was met with lukewarm reaction. The guests thanked the hostess again, and the party came to an end. "Have you had a good time, Bonnie?" asked Miss Blacklock, after seeing off the last guest. "Oh, yes. But I've got a terrible headache. I think it's from excitement." "It's cake," Patrick said. "I don't feel well about my liver. You've been nibbling on chocolate all morning." "I'm going to lie down," said Miss Bonner. "I'm going to take a couple of aspirins and try to get as much sleep as I can." "It's a very treacherous plan," said Miss Blacklock. Miss Bonner went upstairs. "Shall I lock the duck for you, Aunt Letty?" Miss Blacklock looked at Patrick gravely. "If you promise to lock that door." "I will. I swear I will." "Have a glass of sherry, Aunt Letty," said Julie Kie, "as my old hushi said: 'It will calm your stomach.' Offensive, but strangely appropriate at this moment .” "Well, I bet it might be a good thing. The truth is people aren't used to greasy stuff these days. Oh, Bonnie, you really startled me, what's up?" "I can't find my aspirin," said Miss Bonner sullenly. "Then, take some of mine, by my bedside." "I have a bottle on my dresser too," Philippa said. "Thanks - thank you very much. If I can't find it - but I do remember where it is, a new bottle. Where the hell did I put it?" "There's a lot in the bedroom," said Julia impatiently. "There's a lot of aspirin in the house." "It bothers me to be so careless and misplaced myself," said Miss Bonner, and went back upstairs again. "Poor old Bonnie," said Juliet, adjusting her glasses, "do you think we should give her sherry?" "I reckon it's all right," said Miss Blacklock. "She's so excited today that it's really not doing her any good. I'm afraid she'll be worse off tomorrow. Still, I think she's having a good day:" "She likes it." Philippa said. "Let's give Mickey a glass of sherry," suggested Julia. "Hey, Pale," she called when he came in, "call Mickey." Mickey was called in and Julia poured her a glass of sherry. "Toast to the greatest chef in the world," Patrick said. Micky was satisfied--but felt it was time to protest. "That's not the case. I'm not actually a cook. In my country I do mental work." "That's a waste of you," Patrick said. "How can brainwork be compared to the idea of ​​a delicious death?" "Oh—I told you I didn't like—" "I don't care what you like, my girl," Patrick said, "that's what I named it. Let's drink to a delicious death, to hell's torments. " 3 "Philippa, my dear, I want to talk to you." "Oh, Miss Blacklock?" Philippa looked up slightly surprised. "What are you worried about, aren't you?" "Worry?" "I've noticed that you seem worried lately, is nothing wrong?" "Oh, no, Miss Blacklock. Why bother?" "Well—I wonder. I thought maybe you and Patrick—" "Patrick?" Philippa was genuinely surprised. "Well, that's not the case anymore. Forgive me if I'm wrong. But you two spend a lot of time together, and even though Patrick is my cousin, I don't think he's the kind Man with satisfied husband. In any case, not for some time to come. " Philippa's face was rigid and expressionless. "I will never marry again," she said. "Oh no, you will one day, my dear boy, you are still young. But we need not discuss that. Is there any other trouble?You're not worried about—like money, are you? " "No, I'm fine." "I know you sometimes worry about your children's education, so I want to tell you something. I drove to Milchester this afternoon to see my lawyer, Mr. Bedingfield. Things haven't been fully settled recently, and I Wants to make a new will--in case something happens. Everything is yours, Philippa, except what's left of Bonny." "But I don't—really don't...well, I'd rather not...but why? Why me?" "Perhaps," said Miss Blacklock in a peculiar voice, "because there is no one else." "But there's Patrick and Julia." "Yes, there is Patrick and Juliet." The strange tone of Miss Blacklock's voice was still there. "They are your relatives." "A distant relative. They have no right to make demands on me." "But I—nor have I—I don't know what you're thinking... oh, I don't want to." Her eyes fixed on her with hostility rather than gratitude. There was something almost frightened in her demeanor. "I know what I'm about, Philippa. I'm in love with you--and the boy. . . If I die now, you won't get much--but in a few weeks it might be different." Her eyes were fixed on Philippa's. "But you won't die," protested Philippa. "Not if I take the proper steps." "measure?" "Yes, think about it...don't worry anymore." She suddenly walked out of the room.Philippa heard her talking to Julia in the hall. After a while Julia came into the living room. There was a gleam of determination in her eyes. "You play very well, don't you, Philippa? I think you're one of those men who come from behind the scenes... a dark horse." "So you hear—" "Yes, I did. I'd rather feel like I was eavesdropping on purpose." "what do you mean?" "Our Litty's no fool... But, anyway, you've done a good job, Philippa. Sit tight, don't you?" "Oh, Julia - I didn't mean to - I never thought of it" No?Of course you mean it.You're not happy with anything, are you?Very short of money.But you remember this for me—if anyone kills Aunt Letty.You are prime suspect. " "But I won't. I'd be idiotic to kill her while—if I could wait—" "So you know that old woman whose name was dying in Scotland? I've been wondering. . . Philippa, I'm beginning to believe that you're a real dark horse indeed." "I don't want to get in your way and Patrick." "Don't you want to, my dear? Then I'm so sorry—but I don't believe you."