Reads Novel Online

The Body in the Library (Miss Marple 3)

« Prev  Chapter  Next »



“Are you fond of him or not?”

“I’m very fond of him—and at the same time I resent him. I’ll try and explain. Conway Jefferson is a man who likes to control his surroundings. He’s a benevolent despot, kind, generous, and affectionate—but his is the tune, and the others dance to his piping.”

Mark Gaskell paused.

“I loved my wife. I shall never feel the same for anyone else. Rosamund was sunshine and laughter and flowers, and when she was killed I felt just like a man in the ring who’s had a knock-out blow. But the referee’s been counting a good long time now. I’m a man, after all. I like women. I don’t want to marry again—not in the least. Well, that’s all right. I’ve had to be discreet—but I’ve had my good times all right. Poor Addie hasn’t. Addie’s a really nice woman. She’s the kind of woman men want to marry, not to sleep with. Give her half a chance and she would marry again—and be very happy and make the chap happy too. But old Jeff saw her always as Frank’s wife—and hypnotized her into seeing herself like that. He doesn’t know it, but we’ve been in prison. I broke out, on the quiet, a long time ago. Addie broke out this summer—and it gave him a shock. It split up his world. Result—Ruby Keene.”

Irrepressibly he sang:

“But she is in her grave, and, oh,

The difference to me!

“Come and have a drink, Clithering.”

It was hardly surprising, Sir Henry reflected, that Mark Gaskell should be an object of suspicion to the police.

Thirteen

I

Dr. Metcalf was one of the best-known physicians in Danemouth. He had no aggressive bedside manner, but his presence in the sick room had an invariably cheering effect. He was middle-aged, with a quiet pleasant voice.

He listened carefully to Superintendent Harper and replied to his questions with gentle precision.

Harper said:

“Then I can take it, Doctor Metcalf, that what I was told by Mrs. Jefferson was substantially correct?”

“Yes, Mr. Jefferson’s health is in a precarious state. For several years now the man has been driving himself ruthlessly. In his determination to live like other men, he has lived at a far greater pace than the normal man of his age. He has refused to rest, to take things easy, to go slow—or any of the other phrases with which I and his other medical advisers have tendered our opinion. The result is that the man is an overworked engine. Heart, lungs, blood pressure—they’re all overstrained.”

“You say Mr. Jefferson has absolutely refused to listen?”

“Yes. I don’t know that I blame him. It’s not what I say to my patients, Superintendent, but a man may as well wear out as rust out. A lot of my colleagues do that, and take it from me it’s not a bad way. In a place like Danemouth one sees most of the other thing: invalids clinging to life, terrified of over-exerting themselves, terrified of a breath of draughty air, of a stray germ, of an injudicious meal!”

“I expect that’s true enough,” said Superintendent Harper. “What it amounts to, then, is this: Conway Jefferson is strong enough, physically speaking—or, I suppose I mean, muscularly speaking. Just what can he do in the active line, by the way?”

“He has immense strength in his arms and shoulders. He was a powerful man before his accident. He is extremely dexterous in his handling of his wheeled chair, and with the aid of crutches he can move himself about a room—from his bed to the chair, for instance.”

“Isn’t it possible for a man injured as Mr. Jefferson was to have artificial legs?”

“Not in his case. There was a spine injury.”

“I see. Let me sum up again. Jefferson is strong and fit in the muscular sense. He feels well and all that?”

Metcalf nodded.

“But his heart is in a bad condition. Any overstrain or exertion, or a shock or a sudden fright, and he might pop off. Is that it?”

“More or less. Over-exertion is killing him slowly, because he won’t give in when he feels tired. That aggravates the cardiac condition. It is unlikely that exertion would kill him suddenly. But a sudden shock or fright might easily do so. That is why I expressly warned his family.”

Superintendent Harper said slowly:

“But in actual fact a shock didn’t kill him. I mean, doctor, that there couldn’t have been a much worse shock than this business, and he’s still alive?”

Dr. Metcalf shrugged his shoulders.

“I know. But if you’d had my experience, Superintendent, you’d know that case history shows the impossibility of prognosticating accurately. People who ought to die of shock and exposure don’t die of shock and exposure, etc., etc. The human frame is tougher than one can imagine possible. Moreover, in my experience, a physical shock is more often fatal than a mental shock. In plain language, a door banging suddenly would be more likely to kill Mr. Jefferson than the discovery that a girl he was fond of had died in a particularly horrible manner.”

“Why is that, I wonder?”

“The breaking of a piece of bad news nearly always sets up a defence reaction. It numbs the recipient. They are unable—at first—to take it in. Full realization takes a little time. But the banged door, someone jumping out of a cupboard, the sudden onslaught of a motor as you cross a road—all those things are immediate in their action. The heart gives a terrified leap—to put it in layman’s language.”

Superintendent Harper said slowly:

“But as far as anyone would know, Mr. Jefferson’s death might easily have been caused by the shock of the girl’s death?”

“Oh, easily.” The doctor looked curiously at the other. “You don’t think—”

“I don’t know what I think,” said Superintendent Harper vexedly.

II

“But you’ll admit, sir, that the two things would fit in very prettily together,” he said a little later to Sir Henry Clithering. “Kill two birds with one stone. First the girl—and the fact of her death takes off Mr. Jefferson too—before he’s had any opportunity of altering his will.”

“Do you think he will alter it?”

“You’d be more likely to know that, sir, than I would. What do you say?”

“I don’t know. Before Ruby Keene came on the scene I happen to know that he had left his money between Mark Gaskell and Mrs. Jefferson. I don’t see why he should now change his mind about that. But of course he might do so. Might leave it to a Cats’ Home, or to subsidize young professional dancers.”

Superintendent Harper agreed.

“You never know what bee a man is going to get in his bonnet—especially when he doesn’t feel there’s any moral obligation in the disposal of his fortune. No blood relations in this case.”

Sir Henry said:

“He is fond of the boy—of young Peter.”

“D’you think he regards him as a grandson? You’d know that better than I would, sir.”

Sir Henry said slowly:

“No, I don’t

think so.”

“There’s another thing I’d like to ask you, sir. It’s a thing I can’t judge for myself. But they’re friends of yours and so you’d know. I’d like very much to know just how fond Mr. Jefferson is of Mr. Gaskell and young Mrs. Jefferson.”

Sir Henry frowned.

“I’m not sure if I understand you, Superintendent?”

“Well, it’s this way, sir. How fond is he of them as persons—apart from his relationship to them?”

“Ah, I see what you mean.”

“Yes, sir. Nobody doubts that he was very attached to them both—but he was attached to them, as I see it, because they were, respectively, the husband and the wife of his daughter and his son. But supposing, for instance, one of them had married again?”

Sir Henry reflected. He said:

“It’s an interesting point you raise there. I don’t know. I’m inclined to suspect—this is a mere opinion—that it would have altered his attitude a good deal. He would have wished them well, borne no rancour, but I think, yes, I rather think that he would have taken very little more interest in them.”

“In both cases, sir?”

“I think so, yes. In Mr. Gaskell’s, almost certainly, and I rather think in Mrs. Jefferson’s also, but that’s not nearly so certain. I think he was fond of her for her own sake.”

“Sex would have something to do with that,” said Superintendent Harper sapiently. “Easier for him to look on her as a daughter than to look on Mr. Gaskell as a son. It works both ways. Women accept a son-in-law as one of the family easily enough, but there aren’t many times when a woman looks on her son’s wife as a daughter.”

Superintendent Harper went on:

“Mind if we walk along this path, sir, to the tennis court? I see Miss Marple’s sitting there. I want to ask her to do something for me. As a matter of fact I want to rope you both in.”

“In what way, Superintendent?”

“To get at stuff that I can’t get at myself. I want you to tackle Edwards for me, sir.”

“Edwards? What do you want from him?”

“Everything you can think of! Everything he knows and what he thinks! About the relations between the various members of the family, his angle on the Ruby Keene business. Inside stuff. He knows better than anyone the state of affairs—you bet he does! And he wouldn’t tell me. But he’ll tell you. And something might turn up from it. That is, of course, if you don’t object?”



« Prev  Chapter  Next »