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‘And therewas someone with a motive, and Miss Blacklock knew it,’ said Miss Marple. ‘I think she recognized Phillipa almost at once. Because Sonia Goedler seems to have been one of the very few people who had been admitted to Charlotte’s privacy. And when one is old (you wouldn’t know this yet, Mr Craddock) one has a much better memory for a face you’ve seen when you were young than you have for anyone you’ve only met a year or two ago. Phillipa must have been just about the same age as her mother was when Charlotte remembered her, and she was very like her mother. The odd thing is that I think Charlotte was very pleased to recognize Phillipa. She became very fond of Phillipa and I think, unconsciously, it helped to stifle any qualms of conscience she may have had. She told herself that when she inherited the money, she was going to look after Phillipa. She would treat her as a daughter. Phillipa and Harry should live with her. She felt quite happy and beneficent about it. But once the Inspector began asking questions and finding out about “Pip and Emma” Charlotte became very uneasy. She didn’t want to make a scapegoat of Phillipa. Her whole idea had been to make the business look like a hold-up by a young criminal and his accidental death. But now, with the discovery of the oiled door, the whole viewpoint was changed. And, except for Phillipa, there wasn’t (as far asshe knew, for she had absolutely no idea of Julia’s identity) anyone with the least possible motive for wishing to kill her. She did her best to shield Phillipa’s identity. She was quick-witted enough to tell you when you asked her, that Sonia was small and dark and she took the old snapshots out of the album so that you shouldn’t notice any resemblance at the same time as she removed snapshots of Letitia herself.’
‘And to think I suspected Mrs Swettenham of being Sonia Goedler,’ said Craddock disgustedly.
‘My poor mamma,’ murmured Edmund. ‘A woman of blameless life-or so I have always believed.’
‘But of course,’ Miss Marple went on, ‘it was Dora Bu
‘I’m afraid that that conversation with me in the cafe really sealed Dora’s fate-if you’ll excuse such a melodramatic expression. But I think it would have come to the same in the end…Because life couldn’t be safe for Charlotte while Dora Bu
‘Delicious Death,’ said Phillipa with a shudder.
‘Yes-yes, it was rather like that…she tried to give her friend a delicious death…The party, and all the things she liked to eat, and trying to stop people saying things to upset her. And then the tablets, whatever they were, in the aspirin bottle by her own bed so that Bu
‘And so Bu
‘That’s horrible,’ said Bunch. ‘Horrible.’
‘But it’s very human,’ said Julian Harmon. ‘One forgets how human murderers are.’
‘I know,’ said Miss Marple. ‘Human. And often very much to be pitied. But very dangerous, too. Especially a weak kindly murderer like Charlotte Blacklock. Because, once a weak person getsreally frightened, they get quite savage with terror and they’ve no self-control at all.’
‘Murgatroyd?’ said Julian.
‘Yes, poor Miss Murgatroyd. Charlotte must have come up to the cottage and heard them rehearsing the murder. The window was open and she listened. It had never occurred to her until that moment that there was anyone else who could be a danger to her. Miss Hinchcliffe was urging her friend to remember what she’d seen and until that moment Charlotte hadn’t realized that anyone could have seen anything at all. She’d assumed that everybody would automatically be looking at Rudi Scherz. She must have held her breath outside the window and listened. Was it going to be all right? And then, just as Miss Hinchcliffe rushed off to the station Miss Murgatroyd got to a point which showed that she had stumbled on the truth. She called after Miss Hinchcliffe: “She wasn’tthere…”
‘I asked Miss Hinchcliffe, you know, if that was the way she said it…Because if she’d said “Shewasn’t there” it wouldn’t have meant the same thing.’
‘Now that’s too subtle a point for me,’ said Craddock.
Miss Marple turned her eager pink and white face to him.
‘Just think what’s going on in Miss Murgatroyd’s mind…One does see things, you know, and not know one sees them. In a railway accident once, I remember noticing a large blister of paint at the side of the carriage. I could havedrawn it for you afterwards. And once, when there was a flying bomb in London-splinters of glass everywhere-and the shock-but what I remember best is a woman standing in front of me who had a big hole half-way up the leg of her stockings and the stockings didn’t match. So when Miss Murgatroyd stopped thinking and just tried to remember what shesaw, she remembered a good deal.
‘She started, I think, near the mantelpiece, where the torch must have hit first-then it went along the two windows and there were people in between the windows and her. Mrs Harmon with her knuckles screwed into her eyes for instance. She went on in her mind following the torch past Miss Bu
‘You see what I mean now? She’d been thinking of the three women Miss Hinchcliffe had told her to think about. If one of them hadn’t been there, it would have been thepersonality she’d have fastened upon. She’d have said-in effect-“That’sthe one!She wasn’t there;” But it was aplace that was in her mind-a place where someone should have been-but the place wasn’t filled-there wasn’t anybody there. The place was there-but the person wasn’t. And she couldn’t take it in all at once. “How extraordinary, Hinch,” she said. “She wasn’tthere ”…So that could only mean Letitia Blacklock…’
‘But you knew before that, didn’t you?’ said Bunch. ‘When the lamp fused. When you wrote down those things on the paper.’
‘Yes, my dear. It all came together then, you see -all the various isolated bits-and made a coherent pattern.’
Bunch quoted softly:
‘Lamp?Yes.Violets? Yes.Bottle of Aspirin. You meant that Bu
‘Not unless her own bottle had been taken or hidden. It had to appear as though Letitia Blacklock was the one meant to be killed.’
‘Yes, I see. And then “Delicious Death”. The cake-but more than the cake. The whole party set-up. A happy day for Bu
‘Shewas quite a kindly woman. What she said at the last in the kitchen was quite true. “I didn’t want to kill anybody.” What she wanted was a great deal of money that didn’t belong to her! And before that desire-(and it had become a kind of obsession-the money was to pay her back for all the suffering life had inflicted on her)-everything else went to the wall. People with a grudge against the world are always dangerous. They seem to think life owes them something. I’ve known many an invalid who has suffered far worse and been cut off from life much more than Charlotte Blacklock -and they’ve managed to lead happy contented lives. It’s what inyourself that makes you happy or unhappy. But, oh dear, I’m afraid I’m straying away from what we were talking about. Where were we?’
‘Going over your list,’ said Bunch. ‘What did you mean by “Making enquiries?” Inquiries about what?’
Miss Marple shook her head playfully at Inspector Craddock.
‘You ought to have seen that, Inspector Craddock. You showed me that letter from Letitia Blacklock to her sister. It had the word “enquiries” in it twice-each time spelt with ane. But in the note I asked Bunch to show you, Miss Blacklock had written “inquiries” with ani. People don’t often alter their spelling as they get older. It seemed to me very significant.’
‘Yes,’ Craddock agreed. ‘I ought to have spotted that.’