realized at once who had written it, and he saw a chance to finish the case once and for all, and make himself safe. Not very nice – no, not very nice, but he was frightened, you see. The police wouldn't be satisfied until they'd got the anonymous letter writer. When he took the letter down to the police and he found they'd actually seen Aimee writing it, he felt he'd got a chance in a thousand of finishing the whole thing.
'He took the family to tea there that afternoon and as he came from the office with his attache case, he could easily bring the torn-out book pages to hide under the stairs and clinch the case. Hiding them under the stairs was a neat touch. It recalled the disposal of Agnes' body, and, from the practical point of view, it was very easy for him. When he followed Aimee and the police, just a minute or two in the hall passing through would be enough.'
'All the same,' I said, 'there's one thing I can't forgive you for, Miss Marple – roping in Megan.'
Miss Marple put down her crochet which she had resumed.
She looked at me over her spectacles and her eyes were stern.
'My dear young man, something had to be done. There was no evidence against this very clever and unscrupulous man. I needed someone to help me, someone of high courage and good brains. I found the person I needed.'
'It was very dangerous for her.'
'Yes, it was dangerous, but we are not put into this world, Mr. Burton, to avoid danger when an innocent fellow creature's life is at stake. You understand me?'
I understood.
It was morning in the High Street.
Miss Emily Barton came out of the grocer's with her shopping bag. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were excited.
'Oh, dear, Mr. Burton, I really am in such a flutter. To think I really am going on a cruise at last!'
'I hope you'll enjoy it.'
'Oh, I'm sure I shall. I should never have dared to go by myself. It does seem so providential the way everything has turned out. For a long time I've felt that I ought to part with Little Furze, that my means were really too straitened, but I couldn't bear the idea of strangers there.
'But now that you have bought it and are going to live there with Megan – it is quite different. And then dear Aimee, after her terrible ordeal, not quite knowing what to do with herself, and her brother getting married (how nice to think you have both settled down with us!), and agreeing to come with me. We mean to be away quite a long time. We might even' – Miss Emily dropped her voice – 'go around the world! And Aimee is so splendid and so practical. I really do think – don't you? – that everything turns out for the best.'
Just for a fleeting moment I thought of Mrs. Symmington and Agnes Woddell in their graves in the churchyard and wondered if they would agree, and then I remembered that Agnes' boyfriend hadn't been very fond of her and that Mrs. Symmington hadn't been very nice to Megan and, what the hell? We've all got to die sometime! And I agreed with happy Miss Emily that everything was for the best in the best of possible worlds.
I went along the High Street and in at the Symmingtons' gate and Megan came out to meet me.
It was not a romantic meeting because an out-size old english sheep dog came out with Megan and nearly knocked me over with his ill-timed exuberance.
'Isn't he adorable?' said Megan.
'A little overwhelming. Is he ours?'
'Yes, he's a wedding present from Joanna. We have had nice wedding presents, haven't we? That fluffy woolly thing that we don't know what it's for from Miss Marple, and the lovely Crown Derby tea set from Mr. Pye, and Elsie has sent me a toast rack'
'How typical!' I interjected.
'And she's got a post with a dentist and is very happy. And – where was I?'
'Enumerating wedding presents. Don't forget if you change your mind you'll have to send them all back.'
'I shan't change my mind. What else have we got? Oh, yes, Mrs. Dane Calthrop has sent an Egyptian scarab.'
'Original woman,' I said.
'Oh! Oh! But you don't know the best. Partridge has actually sent me a present. It's the most hideous tea cloth you've ever seen. But I think she must like me now because she says she embroidered it all with her own hands.'
'In a design of sour grapes and thistles, I suppose?'
'No; true lover's knots.'
'Dear, dear,' I said, 'Partridge is coming on.'
Megan had dragged me into the house.
She said:
'There's just one thing I can't make out. Besides the dog's own collar and lead, Joanna has sent an extra collar and lead. What do you think that's for?'
'That,' I said, 'is Joanna's little joke.'
