Miss Marple 3-Book Collection 1: The Murder at the Vicarage, The Body in the Library, The Moving Finger

‘Did you say that Inspector Slack was going to trace that telephone call – the one that took you to the Abbotts’?’

‘Yes.’

‘But can he do it? Isn’t it a very difficult thing to do?’

‘I should not imagine so. The Exchange will have a record of the calls.’

‘Oh!’ My wife relapsed into thought.

‘Uncle Len,’ said my nephew, ‘why were you so ratty with me this morning for joking about your wishing Colonel Protheroe to be murdered?’

‘Because,’ I said, ‘there is a time for everything. Inspector Slack has no sense of humour. He took your words quite seriously, will probably cross-examine Mary, and will get out a warrant for my arrest.’

‘Doesn’t he know when a fellow’s ragging?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘he does not. He has attained his present position through hard work and zealous attention to duty. That has left him no time for the minor recreations of life.’

‘Do you like him, Uncle Len?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘I do not. From the first moment I saw him I disliked him intensely. But I have no doubt that he is a highly successful man in his profession.’

‘You think he’ll find out who shot old Protheroe?’

‘If he doesn’t,’ I said, ‘it will not be for the want of trying.’

Mary appeared and said:

‘Mr Hawes wants to see you. I’ve put him in the drawing-room, and here’s a note. Waiting for an answer. Verbal will do.’ I tore open the note and read it.

‘Dear Mr Clement, – I should be so very grateful if you could come and see me this afternoon as early as possible. I am in great trouble and would like your advice.

‘Sincerely yours,

‘Estelle Lestrange.’

‘Say I will come round in about half an hour,’ I said to Mary. Then I went into the drawing-room to see Hawes.

Chapter 15 (#ulink_69016294-2151-5fc7-85a2-5d2936ac4d2d)

Hawes’s appearance distressed me very much. His hands were shaking and his face kept twitching nervously. In my opinion he should have been in bed, and I told him so. He insisted that he was perfectly well.

‘I assure you, sir, I never felt better. Never in my life.’

This was so obviously wide of the truth that I hardly knew how to answer. I have a certain admiration for a man who will not give in to illness, but Hawes was carrying the thing rather too far.

‘I called to tell you how sorry I was – that such a thing should happen in the Vicarage.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it’s not very pleasant.’

‘It’s terrible – quite terrible. It seems they haven’t arrested Mr Redding after all?’

‘No. That was a mistake. He made – er – rather a foolish statement.’

‘And the police are now quite convinced that he is innocent?’

‘Perfectly.’

‘Why is that, may I ask? Is it – I mean, do they suspect anyone else?’

I should never have suspected that Hawes would take such a keen interest in the details of a murder case. Perhaps it is because it happened in the Vicarage. He appeared as eager as a reporter.

‘I don’t know that I am completely in Inspector Slack’s confidence. As far as I know, he does not suspect anyone in particular. He is at present engaged in making inquiries.’

‘Yes. Yes – of course. But who can one imagine doing such a dreadful thing?’

I shook my head.

‘Colonel Protheroe was not a popular man, I know that. But murder! For murder – one would need a very strong motive.’

‘So I should imagine,’ I said.

‘Who could have such a motive? Have the police any idea?’

‘I couldn’t say.’

‘He might have made enemies, you know. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that he was the kind of man to have enemies. He had a reputation on the Bench for being very severe.’

‘I suppose he had.’

‘Why, don’t you remember, sir? He was telling you yesterday morning about having been threatened by that man Archer.’

‘Now I come to think of it, so he did,’ I said. ‘Of course, I remember. You were quite near us at the time.’

‘Yes, I overheard what he was saying. Almost impossible to help it with Colonel Protheroe. He had such a very loud voice, hadn’t he? I remember being impressed by your own words. That when his time came, he might have justice meted out to him instead of mercy.’

‘Did I say that?’ I asked, frowning. My remembrance of my own words was slightly different.

‘You said it very impressively, sir. I was struck by your words. Justice is a terrible thing. And to think the poor man was struck down shortly afterwards. It’s almost as though you had a premonition.’

‘I had nothing of the sort,’ I said shortly. I rather dislike Hawes’s tendency to mysticism. There is a touch of the visionary about him.

‘Have you told the police about this man Archer, sir?’

‘I know nothing about him.’

‘I mean, have you repeated to them what Colonel Protheroe said – about Archer having threatened him?’

‘No,’ I said slowly. ‘I have not.’