"I looked up tontine in the dictionary," said Lucy.
The first greetings were over and now Lucy was wandering
rather aimlessly round the room, touching a china dog here, an antimacassar
there, the plastic work-box in the window.
"I thought you probably would," said Miss Marple equably.
Lucy spoke slowly, quoting the words. "Lorenzo Tonti, Italian
banker, originator, 1653, of a form of annuity in which the shares of
subscribers who die are added to the profit shares of the survivors." She
paused. "That's it, isn't it? That fits well enough, and you were thinking of it
even then before that last two deaths."
She took up once more her restless, almost aimless prowl
round the room. Miss Marple sat watching her. This was a very different Lucy
Eyelesbarrow from the one she knew.
"I suppose it was asking for it really," said Lucy. "A will
of that kind, ending so that if there was only one survivor left he'd get the
lot. And yet – there was quite a lot of money, wasn't there? You'd think it
would be enough shared out…." She paused, the words tailing off.
"The trouble is," said Miss Marple, "that people are greedy.
Some people. That's so often, you know, how things start. You don't start with
murder, with wanting to do murder, or even thinking of it. You just start by
being greedy, by wanting more than you're going to have." She laid her knitting
down on her knee and stared ahead of her into space. "That's how I came across
Inspector Craddock first, you know. A case in the country. Near Medenham Spa.
That began the same way, just a weak amiable character who wanted a great deal
of money. Money that that person wasn't entitled to, but there seemed an easy
way to get it. Not murder then. Just something so easy and simple that it hardly
seemed wrong. That's how things begin…. But it ended with three murders."
"Just like this," said Lucy. "We've had three murders now.
The woman who impersonated Martine and who would have been able to claim a share
for her son, and then Alfred, and then Harold. And now it only leaves two,
doesn't it?"
"You mean," said Miss Marple, "there are only Cedric and Emma
left?"
"Not Emma. Emma isn't a tall dark man. No.I mean Cedric and
Bryan Eastley. I never thought of Bryan because he's fair. He's got a fair
moustache and blue eyes, but you see - the other day…." She paused.
"Yes, go on," said Miss Marple. "Tell me. Something has upset
you very badly, hasn't it?"
"It was when Lady Stoddart-West was going away. She had said
good-bye and then suddenly turned to me just as she was getting into the car and
asked: 『Who was that tall dark man who was standing on the terrace as I came
in?』"
"I couldn't imagine who she meant at first, because Cedric
was still laid up. So I said, rather puzzled, 『You don't mean Bryan Eastley?'
and she said, 『Of course, that's who it was, Squadron Leader Eastley. He was
hidden in our loft once in France during the Resistance. I remembered the way he
stood, and the set of his shoulders,' and she said, 『I should like to meet him
again,' but we couldn't find him."
Miss Marple said nothing, just waited.
"And then," said Lucy, "later I looked at him…. He was
standing with his back to me and I saw what I ought to have seen before. That
even when a man's fair his hair looks dark because he plasters it down with
stuff. Bryan's hair is a sort of medium brown, I suppose, but it can look dark.
So you see, it might have been Bryan that your friend saw in the train. It
might…"
"Yes," said Miss Marple. "I had thought of that."
"I suppose you think of everything!" said Lucy bitterly.
"Well, dear, one has to really."
"But I can't see what Bryan Eastley would get out of it. I
mean the money would come to Alexander, not to him. I suppose it would make an
easier life, they could have a bit more luxury, but he wouldn't be able to tap
the capital for his schemes, or anything like that."
"But if anything happened to Alexander before he was
twenty-one, then Bryan would get the money as his father and next of kin," Miss
Marple pointed out.
Lucy cast a look of horror at her.
"He'd never do that. No father would ever of that just - just
to get the money."
Miss Marple sighed. "People do, my dear. It's very sad and
very terrible, but they do."
"People do very terrible things," went on Miss Marple. "I
know a woman who poisoned three of her children just for a little bit of
insurance money. And then there was an old woman, quite a nice old woman
apparently, who poisoned her son when he came home on leave. Then there was that
old Mrs. Stanwich. That case was in the papers. I dare say you read about it.
Her daughter died and her son, and then she said she was poisoned herself. There
was poison in the gruel, but it came out, you know, that she'd put it there
herself. She was just planning to poison her last daughter. That wasn't exactly
for money. She was jealous of them for being younger than she was and alive, and
she was afraid - it's a terrible thing to say but it's true – they would enjoy
themselves after she was gone. She』d always kept a very tight hold on the purse
strings. Yes, of course she was a little peculiar, as they say, but I never see
myself that that's any real excuse. I mean you can be a little peculiar in so
many different ways. Sometimes you just go about giving all your possessions
away and writing a cheques on bank accounts that don't exist, just so as to
benefit people. It shows, you see, that behind being peculiar you have quite a
nice disposition. But of course if you're peculiar and behind it you have a bad
disposition - well, there you are. Now, does that help you at all, my dear
Lucy?"
"Does what help me?" asked Lucy bewildered.
"What I've been telling you," said Miss Marple. She added
gently, 「You mustn't worry, you know. You really mustn't worry. Elspeth
McGillicuddy will be here any day now."
"I don't see what that has to do with it."
"No, dear, perhaps not. But I think it's important myself."
"I can't help worrying," said Lucy. "You see I've got
interested in the family."
"I know, dear, it's very difficult for you because you are
quite strongly attracted to both of them, aren't you, in very different ways."
"What do you mean?" said Lucy. Her tone was sharp.
"I was talking about the two sons of the house," said Miss
Marple. "Or rather the son and the son-in-law. It's unfortunate that the two
more unpleasant members of the family have died and the two more attractive ones
are left. I can see that Cedric Crackenthorpe is very attractive. He is inclined
to make himself out worse than he is and has a provocative way with him."
"He makes me fighting mad sometimes," said Lucy.
"Yes," said Miss Marple, "and you enjoy that, don't you?
You're a girl with a lot of spirit and you enjoy a battle. Yes, I can see where
that attraction lies. And then Mr. Eastley is a rather plaintive type, rather
like an unhappy little boy. That, of course, if attractive, too."
"And one of them's a murderer," said Lucy bitterly, "and it
may be either of them. There's noting to choose between them really. There's
Cedric, not caring a bit about his brother Alfred's death or about Harold』s. He
just sits back looking thoroughly pleased making plans for what he』ll do with
Rutherford Hall, and he keeps saying that it』ll need a lot of money to develop
it in the way he wants to do. Of course I know he's the sort of person who
exaggerates his own callousness and all that. But that could be a cover, too. I
mean everyone says that you're more callous than you really are. But you
mightn't be. You might be even more callous than you seem!"
"Dear, dear Lucy, I'm so sorry about all this."
"And then Bryan," went on Lucy. "It's extraordinary, but
Bryan really seems to want to live there. He thinks he and Alexander would find
it awfully jolly and he's full of schemes."
"He's always full of schemes of one kind or another, isn't
he?"
"Yes, I think he is. They all sound rather wonderful - but
I've got an uneasy feeling that they'd never really work. I mean, they're not
practical. The idea sounds all right - but I don't think he ever considers the
actual working difficulties."
"They are up in the air, so to speak?"
"Yes, in more ways than one. I mean they are usually
literally up in the air. They are all air schemes. Perhaps a really good fighter
pilot never does quite come down to earth again…."
She added: "And he likes Rutherford Hall so much because it
reminds him of the big rambling Victorian house he lived in when he was a
child."
"I see," said Miss Marple thoughtfully. "Yes, I see…"
Then, with a quick sideways glance at Lucy, she said with a
kind of verbal pounce, "But that isn't all of it, is it, dear? There's something
else."
"Oh, yes, there's something else. Just something that I
didn't realise until just a couple of days ago. Bryan could actually have been
on that train."
"On the 4.33 from Paddington?"
"Yes. You see Emma thought she was required to account for
her movements on 20th December and she went over it all very
carefully - a committee meeting in the morning, and then shopping in the
afternoon and tea at the Green Shamrock, and then, she said, she went to meet
Bryan at the station. The train she met was the 4.50 from Paddington, but he
could have been on the earlier train and pretended to come by the later one. He
told me quite casually that his car had had a biff and was being repaired and so
he had to come down by train - an awful bore, he said, he hates trains. He
seemed quite natural about it all…. It may be quite all right – but I wish,
somehow, he hadn't come down by train."
"Actually on the train," said Miss Marple thoughtfully.
"It doesn't really prove anything. The awful thing is all
this suspicion. Not to know. And perhaps we never shall know!"
"Of course we shall know," dear, said Miss Marple briskly. "I
mean – all this isn't going to stop just at this point. The one thing I do know
about murderers is that they can never let well alone. Or perhaps one should say
- ill alone. At any rate," said Miss Marple with finality, "they can't once
they've done a second murder. Now don't get too upset, Lucy. The police are
doing all they can, and looking after everybody - and the great thing is that
Elspeth McGillicuddy will be here very soon now!"
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