I
Miss Marple awoke early because she always wokeearly. She was appreciative of her bed. Most comfortable.
She pattered across to the window and pulled thecurtains, admitting a little London daylight. As yet, however, she did not try to dispensewith the electric light. A very nice bedroom they had given her, again quite in thetradition of Bertram's. A rose-flowered wallpaper, a largewell-polished mahogany chest of drawers – a dressing-table tocorrespond. Two upright chairs, one easy chair of a reasonable height from the ground. Aconnecting door led to a bedroom which was modern but which had a tiled wallpaper of rosesand so avoided any suggestion of over-frigid hygiene.
Miss Marple got back into bed, plumped her pillowsup, glanced at her clock, half-past seven, picked up the small devotional book that alwaysaccompanied her, and read as usual the page and a half allotted to the day. Then shepicked up her knitting and began to knit, slowly at first, since her fingers were stiffand rheumatic when she first awoke, but very soon her pace grew faster, and her fingerslost their painful stiffness.
"Another day," saidMiss Marple to herself, greeting the fact with her usual gentle pleasure. Another day –and who knew what it might bring forth?
She relaxed, and abandoning her knitting, letthoughts pass in an idle stream through her head…. Selina Hazy…what a pretty cottage she had had in St. Mary Mead's – and now someone had put on that ugly greenroof…. Muffins… very wasteful inbutter… but very good…. And fancyserving old-fashioned seed cake! She had never expected, not for a moment, that thingswould be as much like they used to be, … because, after all,Time didn't stand still…. And tohave made it stand still in this way must really have cost a lot of money…. Not a bit of plastic in the place! …. It mustpay them, she supposed. The out-of-date returns in due course as the picturesque…. Look how people wanted old-fashioned roses now, and scorned hybrid teas! …None of this place seemed real at all….Well, why should it? …. It was fifty – no, nearer sixty years since she had stayed here. And it didn't seem real to her because she was not acclimatised in this present year ofOur Lord – Really, the whole thing opened up a veryinteresting set of problems…. The atmosphere and the people…Miss Marple's fingers pushed her knittingfarther away from her.
"Pockets," she saidaloud… "Pockets, I suppose…. Andquite difficult to find…」
Would that account for that curious feeling ofuneasiness she had had last night? That feeling that something was wrong….
All those elderly people – really very much like those she remembered when she had stayed here fiftyyears ago. They had been natural then – but they weren't very natural now. Elderly people nowadays weren'tlike elderly people then – they had that worried harried lookof domestic anxieties with which they are too tired to cope, or they rushed around tocommittees and tried to appear bustling and competent, or they dyed their hair gentianblue, or wore wigs, and their hands were not the hands she remembered, tapering, delicatehands – they were harsh from washing up and detergents…
And so – well, so thesepeople didn't look real. But the point was that they werereal. Selina hazy was real. And that rather handsome military man in the corner was real –she had met him once, although she did not recall his name – and the Bishop (dear Robbie!) was dead.
Miss Marple glanced at her little clock. It waseight-thirty. Time for her breakfast.
She examined the instructions given by the hotel –Splendid big print so that it wasn'tnecessary to put one's spectacles on.
Meals could be ordered through the telephone byasking for Room Service, or you could press the bell labelled Chambermaid.
Miss Marple did the latter. Talking to Room Servicealways flustered her.
The result was excellent. In no time at all therewas a tap on the door and a highly satisfactory chambermaid appeared. A real chambermaidlooking unreal, wearing a striped lavender print dress and actually a cap, a freshlylaundered cap. A smiling, rosy, positively countrified face. (Where did they find thesepeople?)
Miss Marple ordered her breakfast. Tea, poachedeggs, fresh rolls. So adept was the chambermaid that she did not even mention cereals ororange juice.
Five minutes later breakfast came. A comfortabletray with a big pot-bellied teapot, creamy-looking milk, a silver hot water jug. Twobeautifully poached eggs on toast, poached the proper way, not little round hard bulletsshaped in tin cups, a good-sized round of butter stamped with a thistle. Marmalade, honeyand strawberry jam. Delicious-looking rolls, not the hard kind with papery interiors –they smelt of fresh bread (the most delicious smell in the world!).there were also an apple, a pear and a banana.
Miss Marple inserted a knife gingerly but withconfidence. She was not disappointed. Rich deep yellow yolk oozed out, thick and creamy.Proper eggs!
Everything piping hot. A real breakfast. She couldhave cooked it herself but she hadn't had to! It was broughtto her as if – no, not as though she were a queen – as though she were a middle-aged lady staying in a good but not undulyexpensive hotel. In fact – back to 1909. Miss Marple expressedappreciation to the chambermaid who replied smiling.
"Oh, yes, Madam, the Chef is very particular abouthis breakfast."
Miss Marple studies her appraisingly. Bertram'sHotel could certainly produce marvels. A real housemaid. She pinched her left armsurreptitiously.
"Have you been here long?" she asked.
"Just over three years, Madam."
"And before that?"
"I was in a hotel at Eastbourne. Very modern andup-to-date – but I prefer an old-fashioned place like this."
Miss Marple took a sip of tea. She found herselfhumming in a vague way – words fitting themselves to a longforgotten song.
"Oh where have you been all my life…."
The chambermaid was looking slightly startled.
"I was just remembering an old song," twittered Miss Marple apologetically. "Verypopular at one time."
Again she sang softly. "Ohwhere have you been all my life…."
"Perhaps you know it?" sheasked.
"Well –」 Thechambermaid looked rather apologetic.
"Too long ago for you," said Miss Marple. "Ah well, one gets toremembering things – in a place like this."
"Yes, Madam, a lot of the ladies who stay herefeel like that, I think."
"It's partly why theycome, I expect," said Miss Marple.
The chambermaid went out. She was obviously used toold ladies who twittered and reminisced.
Miss Marple finished her breakfast, and got up in apleasant leisurely fashion. She had a plan ready made for a delightful morning ofshopping. Not too much – to overtire herself. Oxford Streettoday, perhaps. And tomorrow Knighsbridge. She planned ahead happily.
It was about ten o'clockwhen she emerged from her room fully equipped: hat, gloves, umbrella – just in case, though it looked fine – handbag –her smartest shopping bag –
The door next but one on the corridor opened sharplyand someone looked out. It was Bess Sedgwick. She withdrew back into the room and closedthe door sharply.
Miss Marple wondered as she went down the stairs.She preferred the stairs to the lift first thing in the morning. It limbered her up. Hersteps grew slower and slower… she stopped.
II
As Colonel Luscombe strode along the passage fromhis room, a door at the top of the stairs opened sharply and Lady Selina spoke to him.
"There you are at last! I've been on the look out for you – waiting topounce. Where can we go and talk? That is to say without falling over some old pussy everysecond."
"Well, really, Bess, I'mnot quite sure – I think on the mezzanine floor there's a sort of writing-room."
"You'd better come inhere. Quick now, before the chambermaid gets peculiar ideas about us."
Rather unwillingly, Colonel Luscombe stepped acrossthe threshold and had the door shut firmly behind him.
"I'd no idea you wouldbe staying here, Bess, I hadn't the faintest idea of it."
"I don't suppose youhad."
"I mean – I wouldnever have brought Elvira here. I have got Elvira here, you know?"
"Yes, I saw her with you last night."
"But I really didn'tknow that you were here. It seemed such an unlikely place for you."
"I don't see why,"said Bess Sedgwick coldly. "It's far and away the most comfortable hotel in London. Why shouldn't I stay here?"
"You must understand that I hadn't any idea of… I mean –」
She looked at him and laughed. She was dressed readyto go out in a well cut dark suit and a shirt of bright emerald green. She looked gay andvery much alive. Beside her, Colonel Luscombe looked rather old and faded.
"Darling Derek, don'tlook so worried. I'm not accusing you of trying to stage amother and daughter sentimental meeting. It's just one ofthose things that happen; where people meet each other in unsuspected places. But you mustget Elvira out of here, Derek. You must get her out of it at once – today."
"Oh, she's going. Imean, I only brought her here just for a couple of nights. Do a show – that sort of thing. She's going down to theMelfords' tomorrow."
"Poor girl, that'll beboring for her."
Luscombe looked at her with concern. "Do you think she will be very bored?"
Bess took pity on him.
"Probably not after duress in Italy. She mighteven think it wildly thrilling."
Luscombe took his courage in both hands.
"Look here, Bess, I was startled to find you here,but don't you think it – well, youknow, it might be meant in a way. I mean that it might be an opportunity – I don't think you really know how – well, how the girl might feel."
"What are you trying to say, Derek?"
"Well, you are her mother, you know."
"Of course I'm hermother. She's my daughter. And what good has that fact everbeen to either of us, or ever will be?"
"You can't be sure. Ithink – I think she feels it."
"What gives you that idea?" said Bess Sedgwick sharply.
"Something she said yesterday. She asked where youwere, what were you doing."
Bess Sedgwick walked across the room to the window.She stood there a moment tapping on the pane.
"You're so nice,Derek," she said. "You have suchnice ideas. But they don't work, my poor angel. That's what you've got to say to yourself. They don't work and they might be dangerous."
"Oh come now, Bess. Dangerous?"
"Yes, yes, yes. Dangerous. I'm dangerous. I've always been dangerous."
"When I think of some of the things you've done," said Colonel Luscombe.
"That's my ownbusiness," said Bess Sedgwick. "Runninginto danger has become a kind of habit with me. No, I wouldn'tsay habit. More an addiction. Like a drug. Like that nice little dollop of heroin addictshave to have every so often to make life seem bright coloured and worth living. Well, that's all right. That's my funeral – or not – as the case may be. I've never taken drugs – never needed them –Danger has been my drug. But people who live as I do can be a source ofharm to others. Now don't be an obstinate old fool, Derek. Youkeep that girl well away from me. I can do her no good. Only harm. If possible, don't even let her know I was staying in the same hotel. Ring up the Melfords andtake her down there today. Make some excuse about a sudden emergency –」
Colonel Luscombe hesitated, pulling his moustaches.
"I think you're makinga mistake, Bess." He sighed. "Sheasked where you were. I told her you were abroad."
"Well, I shall be in another twelve hours, so thatall fits very nicely."
She came up to him, killed him on the point of hischin, turned him smartly around as though they were about to play Blind Man's Buff, opened the door, gave him a gentle little propelling shove out it. Asthe door shut behind him, Colonel Luscombe noticed an old lady turning the corner from thestairs. She was muttering to herself as she looked into her handbag. "Dear, dear me. I suppose I must have left it in my room. Oh dear."
She passed Colonel Luscombe without paying muchattention to him apparently, but as he went on down the stairs Miss Marple paused by herroom door and directed a piercing glance after him. Then she looked towards Bess Sedgwick's door. "So that'swho she was waiting for," said Miss Marple to herself. "I wonder why."
III
Canon Pennyfather, fortified by breakfast, wanderedacross the lounge, remembered to leave his key at the desk, pushed his way through theswinging doors, and was neatly inserted into a taxi by the Irish commissionaire whoexisted for this purpose.
"Where to, sir?"
"Oh dear," said CanonPennyfather in sudden dismay. "Now let me see – where was I going?"
The traffic in Pond Street was held up for someminutes whilst Canon Pennyfather and the commissionaire debated this knotty point.
Finally Canon Pennyfather had a brainwave and thetaxi was directed to go the British Museum.
The commissionaire was left on the pavement with abroad grin on his face, and since no other exits seemed to be taking place, he strolled alittle way along the fa?ade of the hotel whistling an old tune in a muted matter.
One of the windows on the ground floor of Bertram's was flung up – but the commissionaire did noteven turn his head until a voice spoke unexpectedly through the open window.
"So this is where you'velanded up, Micky. What on earth brought you to this place?"
He swung round, startled – and stared.
Lady Sedgwick thrust her head through the openwindow.
"Don't you know me?"she demanded.
A sudden gleam of recognition came across the man's face.
"Why, if it isn'tlittle Bessie now! Fancy that! After all these years. Little Bessie."
"Nobody but you ever called me Bessie. It's a revolting name. What have you been doing all these years?"
"This and that," saidMicky with some reserve. "I've notbeen in the news like you have. I've read of your doings inthe paper time and again."
Bess Sedgwick laughed. "Anyway,I've worn better than you have," shesaid. "You drink too much. You always did."
"You've worn wellbecause you've always been in the money."
"Money wouldn't havedone you any good. You'd have drunk even more and gone to thedogs completely. Oh yes, you would! What brought you here? That's what I want to know. How did you ever get taken on at this place?"
"I wanted a job. I had these –」 his hand flicked over the row of medals.
"Yes, I see." She wasthoughtful. "All genuine too, aren'tthey?"
"Sure they're genuine.Why shouldn't they be?"
"Oh I believe you. You always had courage. You've always been a good fighter. Yes, the army suited you. I'm sure of that."
"The army's all rightin time of war, but it's no good in peace time."
"So you took to this stuff. I hadn't the least idea –」 she stopped.
"You hadn't the leastidea what, Bessie?"
"Nothing. It's queerseeing you again after all these years."
"I haven't forgotten,"said the man. "I've never forgotten you, little Bessie. Ah! A lovely girl you were! A lovelyslip of a girl."
"A damn' fool of agirl, that's what I was," saidLady Sedgwick.
"That's true now. Youhadn't much sense. If you had, you wouldn't have taken up with me. What hands you had for a horse. Do you remember thatmare – what was her name now? – MollyO'Flynn. Ah, she was a wicked devil, that one was."
"You were the only one that could ride her,"said Lady Sedgwick.
"She'd have had me offif she could! When she found she couldn't, she gave in. ah,she was a beauty, now. But talking of sitting a horse, there wasn't one lady in those parts better than you. A lovely seat you had, lovelyhands. Never any fear in you, not for a minute! And it's beenthe same ever since, so I judge. Aeroplanes, racing cars."
Bess Sedgwick laughed.
"I must get on with my letters."
She drew back from the window.
Micky leaned over the railing. "I've not forgotten Ballygowlan," he said with meaning. "Sometimes I've thought of writing to you –」
Bess Sedgwick's voicecame out harshly.
"And what do you mean by that, Mick Gorman?"
"I was just saying as I haven't forgotten – anything. I was just – reminding you like."
Bess Sedgwick's voicestill held its harsh note.
"If you mean what I think you mean, I'll give you a piece of advice. Any trouble from you, and I'd shoot you as easily as I'd shoot a rat. I've shot men before –」
"In foreign parts, maybe –」
"Foreign parts or here – it's all the same to me."
"Ah, good Lord, now, and I believe you would dojust that!" his voice held admiration. "In Ballygowlan –」
"In Ballygowlan," shecut in, "they paid you to keep your mouth shut and paid youwell. You took the money. You'll get no more from me so don't think it."
"It would be a nice romantic story for the Sundaypapers…」
"You heard what I said."
"Ah," he laughed, "I'm not serious, I was just joking. I'd never do anything to hurt my little Bessie. I'llkeep my mouth shut."
"Mind you do," saidLady Sedgwick.
She shut down the window. Staring down at the deskin front of her she looked at her unfinished letter on the blotting paper. She picked itup, looked at it, crumpled it into a ball and slung it into the waste-paper basket. Thenabruptly she got up from her seat and walked out of the room. She did not even cast aglance around her before she went.
The smaller writing-rooms at Bertram's often had an appearance of being empty even when they were not. Twowell-appointed desks stood in the windows, there was a table on the right that held a fewmagazines, on the left were two very high-backed armchairs turned towards the fire. Therewere favourite spots in the afternoon for elderly military or naval gentlemen to ensconcethemselves and fall happily asleep until tea-time. Anyone coming in to write a letter didnot usually even notice them. The chairs were not so much in demand during the morning.
As it happened, however, they were on thisparticular morning both occupied. An old lady was in one and a young girl in the other.The young girl rose to her feet. She stood a moment looking uncertainly towards the doorthrough which Lady Sedgwick had passed out, then she moved slowly towards it. Elvira Blake's face was deadly pale.
It was another five minutes before the old ladymoved. Then Miss Marple decided that the little rest which she always took after dressingand coming downstairs had lasted quite long enough. It was time to go out and enjoy thepleasures of London. She might walk as far as Piccadilly, and take a No. 9 but to HighStreet, Kensington, or she might walk along to Bond Street and take a 25 bus to Marshall& Snelgrove's or she might take a 25 the other way whichas far as she remembered would land her up at the Army & Navy Stores. Passing throughthe swing doors she was still savouring these delights in her mind. The Irishcommissionaire, back on duty, made up her mind for her.
"You'll be wanting ataxi, Ma'am," he said withfirmness.
"I don't think I do,"said Miss Marple. "I think there's a 25 bus I could take quite near here – or a 2from Park Lane."
"You'll not be wantinga bus," said the commissionaire firmly. "It's very dangerous springing on a bus when you're getting on in life. The way they start and stop and go on again. Jerk youoff your feet, they do. No heart at all, these fellows, nowadays. I'll whistle you along a taxi and you'll go towherever you want to like a queen."
Miss Marple considered and fell.
"Very well then," shesaid, "perhaps I had better have a taxi."
The commissionaire had no need even to whistle. Hemerely clicked his thumb and a taxi appeared like magic. Miss Marple was helped into itwith every possible care and decided on the spur of the moment to go to Robinson &Cleaver's and look at their splendid offer of real linensheets. She sat happily in her taxi feeling indeed as the commissionaire had promised her,just like a queen. Her mind was filled with pleasurable anticipation of linen sheets,linen pillow cases and proper glass- and kitchen-cloths without pictures of bananas, figsor performing dogs and other pictorial distractions to annoy you when you were washing up.
Lady Sedgwick came up to the Reception desk.
"Mr. Humfries in his office?"
"Yes, Lady Sedgwick." MissGorringe looked startled.
Lady Sedgwick passed behind the desk, tapped on thedoor and went in without waiting for any response.
Mr. Humfries looked up startled.
"What –」
"Who engaged that man Michael Gorman?"
"Parfitt left – he hada car accident a month ago. We had to replace him quickly. This man seemed all right.References O.K. – ex-Army – quitegood record – Not very bright perhaps – but that's all the better sometimes – you don't know anything against him, do you?"
"Enough not to want him here."
"If you insist," Humfriessaid slowly, "we'll give him hisnotice –」
"No," said LadySedgwick slowly. "No – it's too late for that – Never mind."
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