After The Funeral Part 19

"Let me understand. Someone claims that Abernethie told her--it was a woman, I,,suppose ?"

"Oh yes, it was a woman.

"--told her that someone was trying to kill him ?"

Cornered, Mr. Entwhistle reluctantly told the tale of Cora's remark at the funeral. Dr. Larraby's face lightened.

"My dear fellow. I shouldn't pay any attentionl The explanation is quite simple. The woman's at a certain .time of life--craving for sensation, unbalanced, unreliable--might wi"

say anything. They do, you kno , Mr. Entwhistle resented the doctor s easy a.s.sumption. He himself had had to deal with plenty of sensation-hunting and hysterical women.

"Yomay be quite right," he said, rising., "Unfortunately we can t tackle her on the subject, as she s been murdered herself."

"What's that--murdered ?" Dr. Larraby looked as though he had grave suspicions of Mr. Entwhistle's own stability of mind.

"You've probably read about it in the paper. Mrs. Lam-quenet at Lytchett St. Mary in Berkshire."

"Of course--I'd no idea she was a relation of Richard Abernethie's I" Dr. Larraby was looking quite shaken.

Feeling that he had revenged himself for the doctor's professional superiority, and unhappily conscious that his own suspicions had not been a.s.suaged as a result of the visit, Mr. Entwhistle took his leave.

Back at Enderby, Mr. Entwhistle decided to talk to Lans...o...b...

He started by asking the old butler what his plans were. "Mrs. Leo has asked me to stay on here until the house is sold, sir, and I'm sure I shall be very pleased to oblige her.

We are all very fond of Mrs. Leo." He sighed. "I feel it very much, sir, if you will excuse me mentioning it, that the house has to be sold. I've known it for so very many y. ears, and seen all the young ladies and gentlemen grow up in it.

I always thought that Mr. Mortimer would come after his father and perhaps bring up a family here, too. It was arranged, sir, that I should go to the North Lodge when I got 68

ast doing my work here. A very nice little place, the North odge--and I look.e,d forward to having it very spick and span.

But I suppose that s all over now."

"I'm afraid so, Lans...o...b... The estate will all have to be,sold t,o, gether. But with your legaclr "

Oh I m not complaining, sir, aha I'm very sensible of Mr. Abernethie'sgenerosity. I'm well provided for, but it's not so easy to finda little place to buy nowadays and though my married niece has asked me to make my home with them, well, it won',t, be quite the same thing as living on the estate."

"I know, said Mr. Entwhistle. "It's a hard new world for us old fellows. I wish I'd seen more of my old friend before he went. How did he seem those last few months ?"

"Well, he wasn't himself, sir. Not since Mr. Mortimer's death."

"No, it broke him up. And then he was a sick man--sick men have strange fancies sometimes. I imagine Mr. Abernethie suffered from that sort of thing in his last days. He spoke of enemies sometimes, of somebody wishing to do him harm--perhaps ? He may even have thought his food was being tampered with ?"

Old Lans...o...b.. looked surprised--surprised and offended. "I cannot recall anything of that kind, sir."

Entwhistle looked at him keenly.

"You're a very loyal servant, Lans...o...b.., I know that.

But such fancies, on Mr. Abernethie's part would be quite--er --unimportant--a natural symptom in some---er diseases."

"Indeed, sir ? I can only say Mr. Abernethie never said anything like that to me, or in my hearing."

Mr. Entwhistle slid gently to another subject.

"He had some of his family down to stay with him, didn't he, before he died. His nephew and his two nieces and their husbands ?"

"Yes, sir, that is so."

"Was he satisfied with those visits ? Or was he disappointed ?"

Lans...o...b..'s eyes became remote, his old back stiffened. "I really could not say, sir."

"I think you could, you know," said Mr. Entwhistle gently.

"It's not your place to say anything of that kind--that's what you really mean. But there are times when one has to do violence to one's sense of what is fitting. I was one of your master's oldest friends. I cared for him very much. So did you. That's why I'm asking you for your opinion as a man, not as a butler."

69

Lans...o...b.. was s/lent for a moment, then he said /n a colourless voice: "Is there anything--wrong, sir ? 'j Mr. Entwhistle replied truthfully.

"I don't know," he said. "I hope not. I would like to make sure. Have you yourself felt that something was--wrong ? '

"Only since the funeral, sir. And I couldn't say exactly what it is. But Mrs. Leo and M-rs. Timothy, too, they didn,t, seem quite themselves that evening after the others had gone.

"You know the contents of the will ?"

"Yes, sir. Mrs. Leo thought I would like to know. It seemed to me, if I may permit myself to comment, a very fair

"Yes, it was a fair will. Equal benefits. But it is not, I

think, the will that Mr. Abernethie orig/nally intended to

make after his son died. W/II you answer now the question that I asked you just now ?"

"As a matter of personal opinion "

"Yes, yes, that is understood."

"The master, sir, was very much disappointed after Mr.

George had been here He had hoped, I think, that Mr.

George might resemble Mr. Mortimer. Mr. George, if I may say so, did not come up to standard. Miss Laura's husband was always considered unsatisfactory, and I'm afraid Mr.

George took after him." Lans...o...b.. paused and then went on, "Then the young ladies came with their husbands. Miss Susan he took to at once--a very sp;.rited and handsome voun lady, but it's my opinion he couldn t abide her husband.

Young ladies make funny choices nowadays, s .

"And the other couple ?"

"I couldn't say much about that. A very pleasant and good-looking young pa, ir. I think the master enjoyed having them here--but I don t think ." The old man hesitated. "Yes, Lans...o...b.. ?"

"Well, the master had never had much truck with the stage. He said to me one day, 'I can't understand why anyone gets stage-struck. It's a foolish kind of life. Seems to deprive people of what little sense they have. I don't know what it does to your moral sense. You certainly lose your sense of proportion.' Of course he wasn't referring directly"

"No, no, I quite understand. Now after these visits, Mr. Abernethie himself went away--first to his brother, and afterwards to his sister Mrs. Lansquenet."

?o

"That I did not know, sir. I mean he mentioned to me that he was going to Mr. Timothy and afterwards to Something St. Mary."

"That is right. Can you remember anything he said on his return in regard to those visits ?"

Lans...o...b.. reflected.

"I really don't know--nothing direct. He was glad to be back. Travelling and staying in strange houses tired him very muchmthat I do remember his saying."

"Nothing else ? Nothing about either of them ?"

Lans...o...b.. frowned.

"The master used to--well, to murmur, if you get my meaning--speaking to me and yet more to himself--hardly noticing I was there--because he knew me so well." "Knew you and trusted you, yes."

"But my recollection is very vague as to what he said--something about he couldn't think what he'd done with his money--that was Mr. Timothy, I take it. And then he said something about ' Women can be fools in ninety-nine different ways but be pretty shrewd in the hundredth. Oh yes, and he said, ' You can only say what you really think to someone of your own generation. They don't think you're fancying things as the younger ones do.' And later he said but I don't know in what connectionm 'It's not very nice to have to set traps for people, but I don't see what else I can do.'

But I think it possible, sir, that he may have been thinking of the second gardener--a question of the peaches being taken.

But Mr. Entwhistle did not think that it was the second gardener who had been in Richard Abernethie's mind. After a few more questions he let Lans...o...b.. go and reflected on what he had learned. Nothing, really--nothing, that is, that he had not deduced before. Yet there were suggestive points.

It was not his sister-in-law, Maude, but his sister Cora of whom he had been thinking when he made the remark about women who were fools and yet shrewd. And it was to her he had confided his "fancies." And he had spoken of setting a trap. For whom ?

Mr. Entwhistle had meditated a good deal over how much he should tell Helen. In the end he decided to take her wholly into his confidence.

First he thanked her for sorting out Richard's things and for making various household arrangements. The house had been advertised for sale and there were one or two prospective buyers who would be shortly coming to look over it.

"Private buyers ?"

"I'm afraid not. The 1W.C.A. are considering it, and there is a young people's club, and the Trustees of the Jefferson Trust are looking for a suitable place to house their Collection."

"It seems sad that the house will not be lived in, but of course it is not a practicable proposition nowadays."

"I am going to ask you if it would be possible for you to remain here until the house is sold. Or would it be a great inconvenience ?"

"No--actually it would suit me very well. I don't want to go to Cyprus until May, and I much prefer being here than to being in London as I had planned. I love this house, you know; Leo loved it, and we were always happy when we were here together."

"There is another reason why I should be grateful if you would stay on. There is a friend of mine, a man called Hercule Poirot--"

Helen said sharply: "Hercule Poirot?

Then you think- "

"You know of him ?" "Yes. Some friends of mine but I imagined that he was dead long ago."

"He is very much alive. Not y,o, ung, of course."

"No, he could hardly be young.

She spoke mechanically. Her face was white and strained.

She said with an effort: "You think--that Cora was right ? That Richard was-- murdered ?"

Mr. Entwhistle unburdened himself. It was a pleasure to unburden himself to Helen with her clear calm mind.

When he had finished she said: "One ought to feel it's fantastic--but one doesn't. Mande and I, that night ater the funeral--it was in both our minds, I'm sure. Saying to ourselves what a silly woman Cora was--and yet being uneasy. And then--Cora was killed--and 7

I told myself it was'just coincidenceand of course it may be--but oh I if one can only be sure. It's all so difficult."