Mrs. McGinty's Dead
}"No clue as to who the proud lady was?"}
}"Bentley suggested Mrs Upward—but as far as I can see for no real reason!"}
}Spence shook his head.}
}"Probably because she's a proud masterful sort of woman—outstandingly so, I should say. But it couldn't have been Mrs Upward, because Mrs Upward's dead, and for the same reason as Mrs McGinty died—because she recognised a photograph."}
}Poirot said sadly,}
}"I warned her."}
}Spence murmured irritably:}
}"Lily Gamboll! So far as age goes, there are only two possibilities, Mrs Rendell and Mrs Carpenter. I don't count the Henderson girl—she's got a background."}
}"And the others have not?"}
}Spence sighed.}
}"You know what things are nowadays. The war stirred up everyone and everything. The approved School where Lily Gamboll was and all its records were destroyed by a direct hit. Then take people. It's the hardest thing in the world to check on people. Take Broadhinny—the only people in Broadhinny we know anything about are the Summerhayes who have been there for three hundred years and Guy Carpenter who's}
}190 MRS. McGINTY'S DEAD
one of the engineering Carpenters. All the others are—
what shall I say—fluid? Dr Rendell's on the Medical
Register and we know where he trained and where he's
practised, but we don't know his home background.
His wife came from near Dublin. Eve Selkirk, as she
was before she married Guy Carpenter, was a pretty
young war widow. Anyone can be a pretty young war
widow. Take the Wetherbys—they seem to have floated
round the world, here there and everywhere. Why? Is
there a reason? Did he embezzle from a Bank? Or did
they occasion a scandal? I don't say we can't dig up
about people. We can—but it takes time. The people
themselves won't help you,"}
}"Because they have something to conceal—but it need not be murder," said Poirot.}
}"Exactly. It may be trouble with the law, or it may be a humble origin, or it may be common or garden scandal. But whatever it is, they've taken a lot of pains to cover up—and that makes it difficult to uncover."
"But not impossible."}
}"Oh no. Not impossible. It just takes time. As I say, if Lily Gamboll is in Broadhuiny, she's }either }Eve Carpenter or Shelagh Rendell. I've questioned them—just routine—that's the way I put it. They were both at home—alone. Mrs Carpenter was the wide eyed innocent, Mrs Rendell was nervous—but then she's a nervous type, you can't go by that."}
}"Yes," said Poirot thoughtfully. "She is a nervous type."}
}He was thinking of Mrs Rendell in the garden at Long Meadows. Mrs Rendell had received an anonymous letter, or so she said. He wondered as he had wondered before, about that statement....}
}Spence went on:}
}"And we have to be careful—because even if one of them }is }guilty, the other is innocent."}
}MRS. McGINTY'S DEAD 191}
}"And Guy Carpenter is a prospective member of parliament and an important local figure."}
}"That wouldn't help him if he was guilty of murder or accessory to it," said Spence grimly.}
}"I know that. But you have, have you not, to be }sure?"}
}"That's right. Anyway you'll agree, won't you, that it lies between the two of them?"}
}Poirot sighed.}
}"No—no—I would not say that. There are other possibilities."}
}"Such as?"}
}Poirot was silent for a moment, then he said in a different, almost casual tone of voice,}
}"Why do people keep photographs?"}
}"Why? Goodness knows! Why do people keep things —junk—trash, bits and pieces. They do—that's all there is to it!"}
}"Up to a point I agree with you. Some people keep things. Some people throw everything away as soon as they have done with it. That, yes, it is a matter of temperament. But I speak now especially of photographs. Why do people keep, in particular, }photographs?"}
}"As I say, because they just don't throw things away. Or else because it reminds them—"}
}Poirot pounced on the words.}
}"Exactly. }It reminds them. }Now again we ask—why? }Why }does a woman keep a photograph of herself when young? And I say that the first reason is, essentially, vanity. She has been a pretty girl and she keeps a photograph of herself to remind her of what a pretty girl she was. It encourages her when her mirror tells her unpalatable things. She says, perhaps, to a friend, 'That was me when I was eighteen . . .' and she sighs. . . . You agree?"}
}"Yes—yes, I should say that's true enough."}
}192 MRS. McGinty's DEAD}
}"Then that is reason No. 1, Vanity. Now reason No. 2. Sentiment."}
}"That's the same thing?"}
}"No, no, not quite. Because this leads you to preserve, not only your own photograph but that of someone else ... A picture of your married daughter— when she was a child sitting on a hearthrug with tulle round her."}
}"I've seen some of those," Spence grinned.}
}"Yes. Very embarrassing to the subject sometimes, but mothers like to do it. And sons and daughters often keep pictures of their mothers, especially, say if their mother died young. 'This was my mother as a girl.' "}
}"I'm beginning to see what you're driving at, Poirot."}
}"And there is, possibly a }third }category. Not vanity, not sentiment, not love—perhaps }hate}—what do you say?"}
}"Hate?"}
}"Yes. To keep a desire for revenge alive. Someone who has injured you—you might keep a photograph to remind you, might you not?"}
}"But surely that doesn't apply in this case?"}
}"Does it not?"}
}"What are you thinking of?'}
}Poirot murmured:}
}"Newspaper reports are often inaccurate. The Sunday Companion stated that Eva Kane was employed by the Craigs as a nursery governess. Was that actually the case?"}
}"Yes, it was. But we're working on the assumption that it's Lily Gamboll we're looking for."}
}Poirot sat up suddenly very straight in his chair. He wagged an imperative forefinger at Spence.}
}"Look. Look at the photograph of Lily Gamboll. She is not pretty—no! Frankly, with those teeth and those spectacles she is hideously ugly. Then nobody has kept}
}MRS. McGINTY'S DEAD 193}
}that photograph for the first of our reasons. No woman would keep that photo out of vanity. If Eve Carpenter or Shelagh Rendell who are both good looking women, especially Eve Carpenter, had this photograph of themselves, they would tear it in pieces quickly in case somebody should see it!"}
}"Well, there is something in that."}
}"So reason one is out. Now take sentiment. Did anybody love Lily Gamboll at that age? The whole point of Lily Gamboll is that they did not. She was an unwanted and unloved child. The person who liked her best was her aunt, and her aunt died under the chopper. So it was not sentiment that kept this picture. And revenge? Nobody hated her either. Her murdered aunt was a lonely woman without a husband and with no close friends. Nobody had hate for the little slum child}
}—only pity,"}
}"Look here, M. Poirot, what you're saying is that} }nobody }would have kept that photo."}
}"Exactly—that is the result of my reflections."
"But somebody did. Because Mrs Upward had seen} }it"}
}"Had she?"}
}"Dash it all. It was you who told me. She said so} }herself."}
}"Yes, she said so," said Poirot. "But the late Mrs Upward was, in some ways, a secretive woman. She liked to manage things her own way. I showed the photographs, and she recognised one of them. But then, for some reason, she wanted to keep the identification to herself. She wanted, let us say, to deal with a certain situation in the way she fancied. And so, being very quick witted, she deliberately pointed to the }wrong }picture.
Thereby keeping her knowledge to herself."}
}"But why?"}
}"Because, as I say, she wanted to play a lone hand."}
194 MRS. }McGINTY'S DEAD}
}"It wouldn't be blackmail? She was an extremely wealthy woman, you know, widow of a North Country manufacturer.""}
}"Oh no, not blackmail. More likely beneficence. We'll say that she quite liked the person in question, and that she didn't want to give his secret away. But nevertheless she was }curious. }She} }intended to have a private talk with that person. And whilst doing so, to make up her mind whether or not that person had had anything to do with the death of Mrs McGinty. Something like that."}
}"Then that leaves the other three photos in?"
"Precisely. Mrs Upward meant to get in touch with} }the person in question at the first opportunity. That} }came when her son and Mrs Oliver went over to the} }Repertory Theatre at Cullenquay."}
}"And she telephoned to Deirdre Henderson. }That} }puts Deirdre Henderson right back in the picture. }And} }her mother!"}
}Superintendent Spence shook his head sadly at Poirot.}
}"You do like to make it difficult, don't you, M. Poirot?" he said.}
}CHAPTER 21 }M}rs Wetherby walked back home from the post office with a gait surprisingly spry in one habitually reported to be an invalid.}
}Only when she had entered the front door did she}
}
MRS. McGINTY'S DEAD 195
once more shuffle feebly into the drawing room and
collapse on the sofa.
}
}The bell was within reach of her hand and she rang} }it.
Since nothing happened she rang it again, this time }keeping her finger on it for some time.
}In due course Maude Williams appeared. She was wearing a flowered overall and had a duster in her} }hand.}
}"Did you ring, Madam?"}
}"I rang twice. When I ring I expect someone to come at once. I might be dangerously ill."}
}"I'm sorry, Madam. I was upstairs."}
}"I know you were. You were in my room. I heard you overhead. And you were pulling the drawers in and out, I can't think why. It's no part of your job to go prying into my things."}
}"I wasn't prying. I was putting some of the things you left lying about away tidily."}
}"Nonsense. All you people snoop. And I won't have it. I'm feeling very faint. Is Miss Deirdre in?"}
"She took the dog for a walk."
}"How stupid. She might know I would need her. Bring me an egg beaten up in milk and add a little brandy. The brandy is on the sideboard in the dining} }room."}
"There are only just the three eggs for breakfast tomorrow."
"Then someone will have to go without. Hurry, will you? Don't stand there looking at me. And you're wearing far too much make-up. It isn't suitable."
}There was a bark in the hall and Deirdre and her Sealyham came in as Maude went out.}
"I heard your voice," said Deirdre breathlessly, "What have you been saying to her?"
"Nothing."
}196 MRS. McGINTY'S DEAD
"She looked like thunder."
"I put her in her place. Impertinent girl."
"Oh Mummie darling, must you? It's so difficult to
get anyone. And she does cook well."}
}"I suppose it's of no importance that she's insolent to }me! }Oh well, I shan't be with you much longer." Mrs Wetherby rolled up her eyes and took some fluttering breaths. "I walked too far," she murmured.}
}"You oughtn't to have gone out, darling. Why didn't you tell me you were going?"}
}"I thought some air would do me good. It's so stuffy. It doesn't matter. One doesn't really want to live—not if one's only a trouble to people."}
}"You're not a trouble, darling. I'd die without you."
"You're a good girl—but I can see how I weary you and get on your nerves."}
}"You don't—you don't," said Deirdre passionately.
Mrs Wetherby sighed and let her eyelids fall.
"I—can't talk much," she murmured. "I must just lie still."}
}"I'll hurry up Maude with the eggnog."}
}Deirdre jan out of the room. In her hurry she caught} }her elbow on a table and a bronze god bumped to the} }ground.}
}"So clumsy," murmured Mrs Wetherby to herself, wincing.}
}The door opened and Mr Wetherby came in. He stood there for a moment. Mrs Wetherby opened her eyes.}
}"Oh it's you, Roger."}
}"I wondered what all the noise was in here. It's impossible to read quietly in this house."}
}"It was just Deirdre, dear. She came in with the dog."}
}Mr Wetherby stooped and picked up the bronze monstrosity from the floor.}
}MRS. McGinty's DEAD 197}
}"Surely Deirdre's old enough not to knock things down the whole time."}
}"She's just rather awkward."}
}"Well, it's absurd to be awkward at her age. And can't she keep that dog from barking?"}
"I'll speak to her, Roger."
}"If she makes her home here, she must consider our wishes and not behave as though the house belonged}
}to her."}
}"Perhaps you'd rather she went away," murmured Mrs Wetherby. Through half closed eyes she watched}
}her husband.}
}"No, of course not. Of course not. Naturally her home is with us. I only ask for a little more good sense and good manners." He added, "You've been out,} }Edith?"}
}"Yes. I just went down to the post office."
"No fresh news about poor Mrs Upward?"
"The Police still don't know who it was."
"They seem to be quite hopeless. Any motive? Who gets her money?"
"The son, I suppose."}
}"Yes—yes, then it really seems as though it must have been one of these tramps. You should tell this girl you've got to be careful about keeping the front door locked. And only to open it on the chain when it gets near dusk. These men are very daring and brutal nowadays."}
}"Nothing seems to have been taken from Mrs Up-}
}ward's." }
}"Odd."}
"Not like Mrs McGinty," said Mrs Wetherby.
}"Mrs McGinty? Oh! the charwoman. What's Mrs McGinty got to do with Mrs Upward?"}
"She did work for her, Roger."
"Don't be silly, Edith."
198 MRS. McGinty's DEAD
}Mrs Wetherby closed her eyes again. As Mr Wetherby went out of the room she smiled to herself.}
}She opened her eyes with a start to find Maude standing over her holding a glass.}
}"Your eggnog, Madam," said Maude.}
}Her voice was loud and clear. It echoed too resonantly in the deadened house.}
}Mrs Wetherby looked up with a vague feeling of alarm.}
}How tall and unbending the girl was. She stood over Mrs Wetherby like—"like a figure of doom," Mrs Wetherby thought to herself—and then wondered why such extraordinary words had come into her head.}
}She raised herself on her elbow and took the glass.}
}"Thank you, Maude," she said.}
}Maude turned and went out of the room.}
}Mrs Wetherby still felt vaguely upset.}
}CHAPTER 22 }H}ercule Poirot took a hired car back to Broadhinny.}
}He was tired because he had been thinking. Thinking was always exhausting. And his thinking had not been entirely satisfactory. It was as though a pattern, perfectly visible was woven into a piece of material and yet, although he was holding the piece of material, he could not see what the pattern was.}
}But it was all there. That was the point. It was all}
MRS. McGINTY'S DEAD 199
there. Only it was one of those patterns, self-coloured
and subtle, that are not easy to perceive.
}A little way out of Kilchester his car encountered the Summerhayes' station wagon coming in the opposite direction. Johnnie was driving and he had a passenger. Poirot hardly noticed them. He was s
till absorbed in} }thought.}
}When he got back to Long Meadows, he went into the drawing room. He removed a colander full of spinach from the most comfortable chair in the room and sat down. From overhead came the faint drumming of a typewriter. It was Robin Upward, struggling with a play. Three versions he had already torn up, so he told Poirot. Somehow, he couldn't concentrate.}
}Robin might feel his mother's death quite sincerely, but he remained Robin Upward, chiefly interested in}