After the Funeral. Agatha Christie
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mean the companion did do it? Did Cora leave her anything?’
‘An amethyst brooch of no great value and some sketches of fishing villages of sentimental value only.’
‘One has to have a motive for murder – unless one is half-witted.’
Mr Entwhistle gave a little chuckle.
‘As far as one can see, the only person who had a motive is you, my dear Susan.’
‘What’s that?’ Greg moved forward suddenly. He was like a sleeper coming awake. An ugly light showed in his eyes. He was suddenly no longer a negligible feature in the background. ‘What’s Sue got to do with it? What do you mean – saying things like that?’
Susan said sharply:
‘Shut up, Greg. Mr Entwhistle doesn’t mean anything –’
‘Just my little joke,’ said Mr Entwhistle apologetically. ‘Not in the best taste, I’m afraid. Cora left her estate, such as it was, to you, Susan. But to a young lady who has just inherited several hundred thousand pounds, an estate, amounting at the most to a few hundreds, can hardly be said to represent a motive for murder.’
‘She left her money to me?’ Susan sounded surprised. ‘How extraordinary. She didn’t even know me! Why did she do it, do you think?’
‘I think she had heard rumours that there had been a little difficulty – er – over your marriage.’ Greg, back again at sharpening his pencil, scowled. ‘There had been a certain amount of trouble over her own marriage – and I think she experienced a fellow feeling.’
Susan asked with a certain amount of interest:
‘She married an artist, didn’t she, whom none of the family liked? Was he a good artist?’
Mr Entwhistle shook his head very decidedly.
‘Are there any of his paintings in the cottage?’
‘Yes.’
Then I shall judge for myself,’ said Susan.
Mr Entwhistle smiled at the resolute tilt of Susan’s chin.
‘So be it. Doubtless I am an old fogey and hopelessly old-fashioned in matters of art, but I really don’t think you will dispute my verdict.’
‘I suppose I ought to go down there, anyway? And look over what there is. Is there anybody there now?’
‘I have arranged with Miss Gilchrist to remain there until further notice.’
Greg said: ‘She must have a pretty good nerve – to stay in a cottage where a murder’s been committed.’
‘Miss Gilchrist is quite a sensible woman, I should say. Besides,’ added the lawyer drily, ‘I don’t think she has anywhere else to go until she gets another situation.’
‘So Aunt Cora’s death left her high and dry? Did she – were she and Aunt Cora – on intimate terms –?’
Mr Entwhistle looked at her rather curiously, wondering just what exactly was in her mind.
‘Moderately so, I imagine,’ he said. ‘She never treated Miss Gilchrist as a servant.’
‘Treated her a damned sight worse, I dare say,’ said Susan. ‘These wretched so called “ladies” are the ones who get it taken out of them nowadays. I’ll try and find her a decent post somewhere. It won’t be difficult. Anyone who’s willing to do a bit of housework and cook is worth their weight in gold – she does cook, doesn’t she?’
‘Oh yes. I gather it is something she called, er “the rough” that she objected to. I’m afraid I don’t quite know what “the rough” is.’
Susan appeared to be a good deal amused.
Mr Entwhistle, glancing at his watch, said:
‘Your aunt left Timothy her executor.’
‘Timothy,’ said Susan with scorn. ‘Uncle Timothy is practically a myth. Nobody ever sees him.’
‘Quite.’ Mr Entwhistle glanced at his watch. ‘I am travelling up to see him this afternoon. I will acquaint him with your decision to go down to the cottage.’
‘It will only take me a day or two, I imagine. I don’t want to be long away from London. I’ve got various schemes in hand. I’m going into business.’
Mr Entwhistle looked round him at the cramped sitting-room of the tiny flat. Greg and Susan were evidently hard up. Her father, he knew, had run through most of his money. He had left his daughter badly off.
‘What are your plans for the future, if I may ask?’
‘I’ve got my eye on some premises in Cardigan Street. I suppose, if necessary, you can advance me some money? I may have to pay a deposit.’
‘That can be managed,’ said Mr Entwhistle. ‘I rang you up the day after the funeral several times – but could get no answer. I thought perhaps you might care for an advance. I wondered whether you might perhaps have gone out of Town.’
‘Oh no,’ said Susan quickly. ‘We were in all day. Both of us. We didn’t go out at all.’
Greg said gently: ‘You know Susan, I think our telephone must have been out of order that day. You remember how I couldn’t get through to Hard and Co. in the afternoon. I meant to report it, but it was all right the next morning.’
‘Telephones,’ said Mr Entwhistle, ‘can be very unreliable sometimes.’
Susan said suddenly:
‘How did Aunt Cora know about our marriage? It was at a Registry Office and we didn’t tell anyone until afterwards!’
‘I fancy Richard may have told her about it. She remade her will about three weeks ago (it was formerly in favour of the Theosophical Society) – just about the time he had been down to see her.’
Susan looked startled.
‘Did Uncle Richard go down to see her? I’d no idea of that?’
‘I hadn’t any idea of it myself,’ said Mr Entwhistle.
‘So that was when –’
‘When what?’
‘Nothing,’ said Susan.
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