Chapter 21 Chapter 21 Three Women

Dinner in the small paddock is over.No one said a word during this meal, and they were unwilling to eat. Uncomfortably aware that he had fallen out of favor, Patrick tried, as usual, to bring up the topic now and then, but it was not welcomed.Philippa Hymes was lost in thought.Miss Blacklock did not want to waste any further effort in pretending to be as cheerful as ever.She had changed her clothes for dinner, and came downstairs wearing a jade cameo necklace, but for the first time the blackness around her eyes showed the fear in her heart, which was more clearly revealed by her trembling watch.

Only Julie maintained her characteristic cynical and indifference attitude throughout the evening. "I'm sorry, Litty," she said, "because I can't pack and go. I don't think the police will allow it either.I don't think I'll be standing in your house—or whatever the word is—for too long.I should have expected Inspector Craddock to show up any minute with warrant and handcuffs.In fact, I can't imagine why this has happened. " "He's looking for the old lady—Miss Marple," said Miss Blacklock. "You think she was killed too?" Patrick asked with scientific curiosity. "But why? What could she know?"

"I don't know," replied Miss Blacklock stiffly. "Perhaps Miss Murgatroyd told her something." "If she's murdered too," Patrick said, "logically, there's only one person who can do it." "Who?" "It's Hinchcliff, of course," said Patrick triumphantly. "That's where she was last seen alive--Boulder Heights. I don't think she ever left Boulder Heights at all." "I have a headache," said Miss Blacklock, in a flat voice.She put her hand on her forehead, "Why did Hinch kill Miss Marple? It doesn't make sense."

"It would make sense if Hinch really killed Murgatroyd," Patrick said triumphantly. Philippa suddenly swept away his indifferent attitude, and said, "Hinch will not kill Murgatroyd." "If Murgatroyd slipped up and it turned out that she — Hinch — was the murderer, she would." "Anyway, Hinch was at the police station when Murgatroyd was killed." "She could kill Murgatroyd first and then go." Letitia Blacklock startled everyone by yelling suddenly: "Murder, murder, murder—! Can't you say anything else? I'm scared, you understand? I'm scared .I wasn't afraid before. I thought I could protect myself... But how can you defend against a murderer who waits, watches, and waits for his opportunity! O God!"

She buried her head in her hands.After a moment, she looked up and apologized abruptly. "I'm sorry. I—I lost control." "It's all right, Aunt Letty," said Patrick lovingly, "I'll take care of you." "You?" was Letitia Blacklock's answer, but the disillusionment behind the word became almost an accusation. All this happened just before dinner time.It was only when Micky came in and announced that she wasn't going to cook dinner that the conversation was distracted. "I don't do anything in this house any more. I'm going to my room and I'm going to lock myself in there. I'm going to stay in there till dawn. I'm afraid—killing after killing—with that Miss Murgatroyd with a silly English face—who would kill her? Only madmen! Then it's all about madmen: and madmen don't care who they kill. But I, I don't want to be killed. Kitchen There was a shadow—I heard a noise—I saw someone in the yard, and then I thought I saw a shadow at the storeroom door, and then I heard footsteps. So I'm going back to my room now, and I'm going to put the door Lock it, and maybe I'll even put a locker against the door. By tomorrow morning, I'll tell the hard-hearted police that I'm going to get out of here. If they won't let me, I'll say, 'I'm going to scream, scream, Scream until you let me go!"

Everyone remembers Mickey's screams vividly, and now they shudder to hear her threaten. "Okay, I'm going back to my room," said Midge, with an emphasis that made her purpose clear.In a symbolic gesture, she threw aside the chintz apron she had been wearing. "Good night, Miss Blacklock. Perhaps by tomorrow morning you may not be alive. So, in case that is the case, I say good-bye." She left suddenly, and the door closed softly behind her with that usual faint whimper. Julia got up from her seat. "I'll go get supper," she said matter-of-factly. "Pretty good arrangement—it'll be less embarrassing to you all than having me sit at your table with you. Patrick—since he's made himself your protector, Aunt Letty—better taste every plate first. I don't want to be accused of poisoning you, among other things."

So Julie Ji cooked a very wonderful dinner. Philippa volunteered to help in the kitchen, but Julie Ji insisted that no one else should help. "Julia, I want to say something—" "I don't have time for girls' gossip," said Julia firmly. "Go back to the dining room, Philippa." Now that supper was over, we all went into the drawing room and drank coffee around a small coffee table by the fire.But no one seemed to have anything to say.Everyone is waiting - that's all. At eight-thirty Inspector Craddock called. "I'll be at your place in a quarter of an hour," he announced, "with the Colonel and his wife, and Mrs. Swettenham. with her son."

"But as a matter of fact, Inspector . . . I can't have guests tonight—" Miss Blacklock sounded exhausted. "I understand how you feel, Miss Blacklock. I'm sorry, but it's urgent." "Have you -- found Miss Marple?" "No," replied the inspector, and hung up the phone. Julia carried the coffee tray to the kitchen and, to her surprise, found Mickie lost in thought over the stacked dishes in the sink. Hearing her come in, Mickey slapped her and began to rebuke: "Look what you've done to my clean kitchen 2 I only use this wok—only for making omelets!

But you, what did you do with it? " "Fried onions." "Damn—really ruined. Now it has to be washed, but I never—never wash the omelette pan. I wipe it carefully with ink paper, and that's it. And this long A saucepan, this one I only use to boil milk—" "Well, I don't know what your pot is for," said Julia angrily. "You're going to bed yourself, and why you're getting up again, I can't imagine. Go away and leave me alone. do the washing up." "No, I won't let you use my kitchen." "Oh, Mickey, you are intolerable!"

Julia strode out of the kitchen angrily when the doorbell rang. "I'm not going to answer the door!" Mickey called from the kitchen.Julia cursed in a whisper, in a continental obscenity, and strode to the front door. It was Miss Hinchcliffe. "Good evening," she said hoarsely, "I'm sorry to barge in again. I suppose the inspector called?" "He didn't tell us you were coming," said Juliet, leading the visitor into the living room. "He says I needn't come if I don't want to," said Miss Hinchcliffe, "but I'm very willing."

No one offered any sympathy for Hinchcliff, or mentioned Miss Murgartroyd's death.This tall, energetic woman had a look of survivors on her face that would have overshadowed any language of pity and sympathy. "Turn on the light," said Miss Blacklock, "and add some more coal to the fire. I'm cold - very cold.Come and sit by the fire, Miss Hinchcliffe.The inspector said he would be there in a quarter of an hour, and it was about time now. " "Micky's down again," Julia said. "Is it? Sometimes I see the girl is crazy--very crazy. But maybe we're all crazy." "I can't stand the idea that criminals are crazy," cried Miss Hinchcliffe angrily. Then Craddock came in with the Colonel and his mistresses, and Mrs. Edmund and Swettenham. Everyone stopped talking curiously. Colonel Easterbrook, in a repetition of his usual tone, said: "Ha! What a fire." Mrs. Easterbrook, unwilling to take off her soft fur hat, sat down next to her husband, her face, usually pretty but dull, looking now like the little face of a squeezed weasel.Edmund was still indignant and glared at everyone. Mrs. Swettenham, in spite of her apparent best efforts, turned out to be beyond affectation. "Terrible, isn't it?" she said lightly. "I mean everything. It really does prove the saying - too many words will be lost, because one never knows whose turn will be next - like Like the plague. Don't you think, dear Miss Blacklock, you ought to have some brandy? Even if it's only half a glass? I've always thought there was nothing like brandy - what a wonderful stimulant. I - it seems everyone - Feeling bad about breaking in like that. But Inspector Craddock made us come. And just as bad—she hasn't found it yet, you know, I mean living in That poor old thing at the vicarage. Bunchy Harmon was going crazy. Nobody knew where she was except home. She didn't come to our house. I didn't even see her today. If she had been, I'd know for sure, because I'm in the living room--right behind the house.You see, Edmund is writing in his study--that's in front of the house--so whichever way she comes in we ought to see her.Ah, I do hope and pray that nothing happens to that dear sweet old thing--may her talent and all be well. " "Mother," said Edmund in a voice of great anguish, "will you shut up?" "I promise, darling, I don't want to say another word," said Mrs. Swettenham, and sat down on the sofa next to Julie Kie. Inspector Craddock stood near the door.Facing him were three women sitting almost in a row—Julia and Mrs Swettenham on the sofa, and Mrs Easterbrook on the arm of her husband's chair.He didn't deliberately arrange it, but the result was exactly what he wanted. Miss Blacklock and Miss Hinchcliff were bending over the fire.Edmund stood near them.Philippa was far back in the shadows. Craddock cut to the chase: "You all know that Miss Murgatroyd was murdered. We have reason to believe that her murderer was a woman. We can narrow it down even further for other reasons. I Just a few ladies to tell what they were doing this afternoon from four to four-twenty. I have already heard an account of her activities from a young lady who calls herself Miss Simmons. I would like her to repeat. What she said. At the same time, Miss Simmons, I must remind you that if you think your answer is unfavorable to yourself, then you do not have to answer, and everything you say will be recorded by Sergeant Edwards, and may be used as evidence in court." "You must say those words, don't you?" said Julia.She was exceptionally pale, but composed, "I repeat, between four and four-thirty I was walking along the fields beside the stream that ran to Compton Farm. Field of trees walking back to the road. As far as I can remember, I met no one. I didn't come near Gravel Grange." "Is Swettenham too big?" Edmund asked: "Are you reminding us all?" The inspector turned to him. "No. It's just Miss Simmons at the moment. I have no reason to believe that I will be hurt by what anyone else says, but, of course, anyone has the right to have a lawyer present, and to refuse to answer questions in his absence." "Oh, but it's a very stupid thing to do, and a complete waste of time," cried Mrs. Swettenham. "I promise I'll tell you what I was doing all the time, and that's what you want, isn't it? Now Can I start?" "Yes, please, Mrs. Swettenham." "Now let me think about it." Mrs. Swettenham closed her eyes and then opened them again. "Of course I had nothing to do with the murder of Miss Murgatroyd. I'm sure everyone here knows that. But , I'm a man of the world, and I understand that the police have to ask the most unnecessary questions and write down the answers with extreme care, because it's all for the sake of what they call 'the record'. That's it, Don't you?" Mrs. Swettenham put the question suddenly to the conscientious Inspector Edwards, and then added reasonably: "I hope I'm not too quick for you?" Sergeant Edwards was an excellent stenographer, but knew little of the tactful way of doing things, and blushed to the ears.He replied, "It's all right, ma'am. Well, maybe a little slower." Mrs. Swettenham continued her tirade, with apparent pauses where she thought a comma or period would be appropriate. "Of course, it's hard to say exactly, because I don't have a very good sense of time. Since the war, half the clocks in our house don't run at all, and the half that do run, because they aren't wound up, aren't fast. Just slow, or not at all." Mrs. Swettenham paused to allow this chaotic time chart to sink in, and then went on sincerely: "I think I'm renewing my stockings at four o'clock. Bottom—for some bizarre reason, I reversed the direction—with filigree embroidery, you know, not plain white cloth—but if I didn't do it, then, before it rained, I must be Pinch off dead chrysanthemums outside—no, it’s earlier.” "The rain," said the Inspector, "began to fall exactly at ten past four." "Really? It helped a lot. Of course, I was upstairs at the time, and I put the washbasin in the hall to catch the rain, and it always leaked in that place, and the rain leaked so fast, I immediately guessed that the gutter on the roof must be It was stuck again. So I came downstairs to put on my raincoat and rubber shoes. My name is Edmund, but he didn't answer, so I figured he must have gotten to the point of the novel, so I didn't bother him anymore. Besides, it used to be I often do it myself, too. Tie a broom handle, you know, to the long stick you use to push up the windows." "You mean," Craddock asked, noticing the puzzled look on his subordinate's face, "you're cleaning the sink?" "Yeah, it was all clogged up with leaves. It took a long time and got me pretty wet, but I finally cleaned it up. Then I went in and got a wash - dead leaves stink. And then I went to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. The kitchen clock said six-fifteen. " Sergeant Edwards blinked. "That is to say," concluded Mrs. Swettenham triumphantly, "that the real time is twenty minutes to five." "Or close," she added. "Did anyone see you when you went outside to clean the sink?" "Not yet," said Mrs. Swettenham. "If there is anyone, I'll get him to help right away. It's hard to do it alone." "So, according to your statement, you were outside the house wearing a raincoat and rubber shoes when it rained, and, according to your statement, you were cleaning the sink during that time, but you have no other proof?" "You can go and see the sink," said Mrs. Swettenham, "it's clean." "Did you hear your mother calling you, Mr. Swettenham?" "No," replied Edmund, "I was in a deep sleep." "Edmund," reproached his mother, "I thought you were writing." Inspector Craddock said: "Please, Mrs. Easterbrook." "I'm sitting with Archie in his study," replied Mrs. Easterbrook, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes. "We're listening to the radio together, aren't we, Archie?" There was a short pause.Colonel Easterbrook flushed and took his wife's hand. "You don't understand these things, Kitty," he said, "and I—well—I must say, Inspector, that you brought this up to us quite suddenly. My wife, you know, was It's all very disturbing. She's tense, the strings are very tense, and she doesn't understand the importance — the importance — that should be given due consideration before giving a confession." "Archie," cried Mrs. Easterbrook reproachfully, "are you going to say you're not with me?" "I didn't, did I, dear? I mean one has to be truthful. It's extremely important in an inquiry like this. I was talking to Lampson, a farmer in Croft District, about how to live on (Again) money business. It was a quarter to four. I came home after the rain had stopped, just before tea, and it was a quarter to five. Laura was baking cakes." "You have been away too, Mrs. Easterbrook?" That pretty face was becoming more and more like that of a weasel, and her eyes showed the look of being caught in a trap. "No--no, I just sat and listened to the radio, I didn't go out. Not at that time. I went out a little earlier, about--about half-past three, just a little walk, walk Not far." She looked as if she expected more questions, but Craddock said quietly, "That's all, Mrs. Easterbrook." He went on to say: "The confession will be typed. You can have a look at it, and if the content is correct, please sign it." Mrs. Easterbrook gave him a sudden, vicious look. "Why don't you ask where the others were? Like this woman, Hymes? Edmund Swettenham? How do you know he was really sleeping in the house? No one saw him." Inspector Craddock said calmly: "Miss Murgatroyd said something before she was murdered. Someone was not in the room on the night of the robbery here. Miss Murgatroyd told her friends about her Saw the names of those present. After excluding one by one, she found that there was one person she hadn't seen." "It's impossible for anyone to see anything," said Julie Ji. "Mergatroyd can," said Miss Hinchcliffe suddenly, in a deep voice, "and she's right there behind the door, where Mr. Craddock is standing now. She's the only one who saw what happened." "Aha: It's your imagination! Isn't it?" Mickey demanded. She slammed the door open, nearly shoving Craddock aside, and popped out, mad with excitement. "Well, you don't ask Micky to come in with the others, do you, you old-fashioned cop! I'm only Micky! Mickey in the kitchen!Keep her in the kitchen!She only belongs in the kitchen!But let me tell you, Micky sees as well as anyone else, maybe better.Yes, I can see things clearly.What I saw the night of the robbery, and what I believed so deeply, I have never said before.I thought to myself, I won't tell what I saw, it's not yet time, I have to wait. " "Trying to ask someone for a little money when things calm down, huh?" Craddock said. Mickey turned to him, just like an angry cat. "Why not? Why do you look down on people? Why shouldn't I be paid if I've been so generous in my silence? Especially when there's money someday--a lot of money. Ah! I hear-- I know what it is. I know this Pip, Emma—this she—” She pointed a finger at Julia—“that secret society that acts as a spy. Yes, I was Could wait for the money—but now I'm afraid. I'd rather be safe. Because, maybe, someone's going to kill me soon. So I'm going to tell what I know." "Well then," said the inspector suspiciously, "what the hell do you know?" "I tell you," said Micky solemnly, "that night I wasn't cleaning silver in the pantry as I said, and I was in the dining room when I heard the gunshot. I went through the keyhole. Look, it's dark in the hall, but there's a lot of gunshots, and the flashlight falls to the floor—I see her. I see her with a gun in her hand, near him. I see Miss Blacklock." "Me?" Miss Blacklock jumped up from her seat in astonishment. "You must be crazy?" "But it's impossible," cried Edmund, "it's impossible for Mickey to see Miss Blacklock." Craddock interrupted him suddenly, his voice sharp and sarcastic: "Can't it be her, Mr. Swettenham? Why can't it be? Just because it wasn't Miss Blacklock standing there with the gun? Then it was you." It's gone, isn't it?" "I—of course not—hell:" "You stole Colonel Easterbrook's revolver. You conspired with Rudy Shields—what a joke. You followed Patrick? Simmons went into the little parlour, and as soon as the lights went out, you slipped out the carefully oiled door. You shot Miss Blacklock, and then Rudy Shields. A few seconds later, you're back in the living room, flicking on the lighter. " Edmund seemed speechless for a moment, and then he said in a huff: "The whole idea is horrific. Why me? What motive do I have?" "If Miss Blacklock dies before Mrs. Godler dies, remember, there are two people who will inherit. The only people we know are Pip and Emma. Julia Simmons turned out to be Emma—" "And you think I'm Pip?" laughed Edmund, "Fantasy--wonderful through and through! About my age—that's all.I can prove to you, you bloody idiot, that I am Edmund Swettenham.Birth certificates, school leave certificates, college diplomas—everything. " "He's not Pip." The voice came from the shadows in the corner. "You, Mrs. Hammers?" "True. Everyone seems to think Pip was a boy—of course Julia knew her twin was a girl, but I don't know why she didn't say this afternoon—" "For family unity," Julia said, "I suddenly realized who you are. But I didn't know until that moment." "I think the same as Julie Kie," Philippa said, with a slight tremor in his voice, "ah, I didn't know what to do after I lost my husband and the war. My mother died many years ago. I found out About our Godlers. Mrs. Godler is dying, and when she dies, the money goes to some Miss Blacklock. I found out where Miss Blacklock lived, and I—I Here it is. I got a job at Mrs. Lucas. I hope, since this Miss Blacklock is an old woman and has no family, she might be willing to help me. But not for me, because I To be able to work, but to help Harry's education. After all, this is the money of the Godler family, and besides, she has no special relatives to spend money on." "Then," Philippa said more quickly, as if all the words that had been stored up in her breast suddenly burst, and no amount of speed could express her feelings. "This robbery happened and I started to get scared. Because it seemed to me that the only person who could possibly have had the motive to kill Miss Blacklock was me. I had no idea which one was Emma - we weren't that long I was born as identical twins, and it was obvious that we were not very much alike. So it seemed that the only one who should be suspected was me." She paused to brush her hair back from her face.Craddock suddenly realized that the faded snapshot in the letter case must be Philippa's mother.This resemblance is absolutely unmistakable.He also understood why the phrase "hands clenched and loosened repeatedly" in the letter was so familiar—this was what Philippa was doing now. "Miss Blacklock was very kind to me, very very kind—I never tried to murder her, nor did I ever think of it. But the result is the same, I am Pip." She added, "You see, you Don't doubt Edmund any more." "No need?" said Craddock, with that sharp tone in his voice again. "Edmund Swettenham is a lad who loves money. A man in his prime." , Maybe want to ask for a rich wife. But if Miss Blacklock hadn't died before Mrs. Godler, the wife he wanted would have no money.Since Mrs. Godler will die before Miss Blacklock is almost a certainty, then he has to do something, doesn't he, Mr. Swettenham? " "It's all a bloody lie 2" Edmund yelled. Just at that moment, out of nowhere, there was a sudden cry from the kitchen--a long, terrifying scream of terror. "It's not Mickey!" cried Julia. "No," said Inspector Craddock, "this is the murderer of three..."