shan't waste my time here. It's no good wasting time on a patient that doesn't need my ministrations. Your cheeks are pink, your eyes are bright, you've begun to enjoy yourself. Nothing like having an interest in life. I'll be on my way.' He stomped out again.
'I'd rather have him than Sandford any day,' said Mrs Bantry.
'So would I,' added Miss Marple. 'He's a good friend, too,' she added thoughtfully. 'He came, I think, to give me the go-ahead sign.'
'Then it was murder,' said Mrs Bantry. They looked at each other. 'At any rate, the doctors think so.'
Miss Knight brought in cups of coffee. For once in their lives, both ladies were too impatient to welcome this interruption.
When Miss Knight had gone Miss Marple started immediately. 'Now then, Dolly, you were there -'
'I practically saw it happen,' said Mrs Bantry, with modest pride.
'Splendid,' said Miss Marple. 'I mean – well, you know what I mean. So you can tell me just exactly what happened from the moment she arrived.'
'I'd been taken into the house,' said Mrs Bantry. 'Snob status.'
'Who took you in?'
'Oh, a willowy-looking young man. I think he's Marina Gregg's secretary or something like that. He took me in, up the staircase. They were having a kind of reunion reception committee at the top of the stairs.'
'On the landing?' said Miss Marple, surprised.
'Oh, they've altered all that. They've knocked the dressing-room and bedroom down so that you've got a big sort of alcove, practically a room. It's very attractive looking.'
'I see. And who was there?'
'Marina Gregg, being natural and charming, looking lovely in a sort of willowy grey-green dress. And the husband, of course, and that woman Ella Zielinsky I told you about. She's their social secretary. And there were about – oh, eight or ten people I should think. Some of them I knew, some of them I didn't. Some I think were from the studios – the ones I didn't know. There was the vicar and Doctor Sandford's wife. He wasn't there himself until later, and Colonel and Mrs Clittering and the High Sheriff. And I think there was someone from the press there. And a young woman with a big camera taking photographs.'
Miss Marple nodded.
'Go on.'
'Heather Badcock and her husband arrived just after me. Marina Gregg said nice things to me, then to somebody else, oh yes, – the vicar – and then Heather Badcock and her husband came. She's the secretary, you know, of the St John Ambulance. Somebody said something about that and how hard she worked and how valuable she was. And Marina Gregg said some pretty things. Then Mrs Badcock, who struck me, I must say, Jane, as rather a tiresome sort of woman, began some long rigmarole of how years before she'd met Marina Gregg somewhere. She wasn't awfully tactful about it since she urged exactly how long ago and the year it was and everything like that. I'm sure that actresses and film stars and people don't really like being reminded of the exact age they are. Still, she wouldn't think of that I suppose.'
'No,' said Miss Marple, 'she wasn't the kind of woman who would have thought of that. Well?'
'Well, there was nothing particular in that except for the fact that Marina Gregg didn't do her usual stuff.'
'You mean she was annoyed?'
'No, no, I don't mean that. As a matter of fact I'm not at all sure that she heard a word of it. She was staring, you know, over Mrs Badcock's shoulder and when Mrs Badcock had finished her rather silly story of how she got out of a bed of sickness and sneaked out of the house to go and meet Marina and get her autograph, there was a sort of odd silence. Then I saw her face.'
'Whose face? Mrs Badcock's?'
'No. Marina Gregg's. It was as though she hadn't heard a word the Badcock woman was saying. She was staring over her shoulder right at the wall opposite. Staring with – I can't explain it to you -'
'But do try, Dolly,' said Miss Marple, 'because I think perhaps that this might be important.'
'She had a kind of frozen look,' said Mrs Bantry, struggling with words, 'as though she'd seen something that – oh dear me, how hard it is to describe things. Do you remember the Lady of Shalott?
Well, that's what she looked like. People laugh at Tennyson nowadays, but the Lady of Shalott always thrilled me when I was young and it still does.'
'She had a frozen look,' repeated Miss Marple thoughtfully. 'And she was looking over Mrs Badcock's shoulder at the wall. What was on the wall?'
'Oh! A picture of some kind, I think,' said Mrs Bantry. 'You know, Italian. I think it was a copy of a Bellini Madonna, but I'm not sure. A picture where the Virgin is holding up a laughing child.'
Miss Marple frowned. 'I can't see that a picture could give her that expression.'
'Especially as she must see it every day,' agreed Mrs Bantry.
'There were people coming up the stairs still, I suppose?'
'Oh yes, there were.'
'Who were they, do you remember?'
'You mean she might have been looking at one of the people coming up the stairs?'
'Well, it's possible, isn't it?' said Miss Marple.
'Yes – of course – Now let me see. There was the mayor, all dressed up too with his chains and all, and his wife, and there was a man with long hair and one of those funny beards they wear nowadays. Quite a young man. And there was the girl with the camera. She'd taken her position on the stairs so as to get photos of people coming up and having their hands shaken by Marina, and – let me see, two people I didn't know. Studio people, I think, and the Grices from Lower Farm. There may have been others, but that's all I can remember now.'
'Doesn't sound very promising,' said Miss Marple. 'What happened next?'
'I think Jason Rudd nudged her or something because all of a sudden she seemed to pull herself together and she smiled at Mrs Badcock, and she began to say all the usual things. You know, sweet, unspoilt, natural, charming, the usual bag of tricks.'
'And then?'
'And then Jason Rudd gave them drinks.'
'What kind of drinks?'
'Daiquiris, I think. He said they were his wife's favourites. He gave one to her and one to the Badcock woman.'
'That's very interesting,' said Miss Marple. 'Very interesting indeed. And what happened after that?'
'I don't know, because I took a gaggle of women to look at the bathrooms. The next thing I knew was when the secretary woman came rushing along and said someone had been taken ill.'
Chapter 7
The inquest, when it was held, was short and disappointing. Evidence of identification was given by the husband, and the only other evidence was medical. Heather Badcock had died as a result of four grains of hyethyldexylbarboquindelorytate, or, let us be frank, some such name. There was no evidence to show how the drug was administered.
The inquest was adjourned for a fortnight.
