'I wonder if you could help me on a small point. It concerns the day of the fete when poor Mrs Badcock died. I believe you were standing quite near Miss Gregg when Mr and Mrs Badcock arrived.'
'Yes – yes – I was just before them, I think. Such a tragic day.'
'Yes, indeed. And I believe that Mrs Badcock was recalling to Miss Gregg that they had met before in Bermuda. She had been ill in bed and had got up specially.'
'Yes, yes, I do remember.'
'And do you remember if Mrs Badcock mentioned the illness she was suffering from?'
'I think now – let me see – yes, it was measles – at least not real measles – German measles – a much less serious disease. Some people hardly feel ill at all with it. I remember my cousin Caroline…'
Miss Marple cut off reminiscences of Cousin Caroline by saying firmly: 'Thank you so much, Vicar,' and replacing the receiver.
There was an awed expression on her face. One of the great mysteries of St Mary Mead was what made the vicar remember certain things – only outstripped by the greater mystery of what the vicar could manage to forget!
'The taxi's here, dear,' said Miss Knight, bustling in. 'It's a very old one, and not too clean I should say. I don't really like you driving in a thing like that. You might pick up some germ or other.'
'Nonsense,' said Miss Marple. Setting her hat firmly on her head and buttoning up her summer coat, she went out to the waiting taxi.
'Good morning, Roberts,' she said.
'Good morning, Miss Marple. You're early this morning. Where do you want to go?'
'Gossington Hall, please,' said Miss Marple.
'I'd better come with you, hadn't I, dear,' said Miss Knight. 'It won't take a minute just to slip on outdoor shoes.'
'No, thank you,' said Miss Marple, firmly. 'I'm going by myself. Drive on, Inch. I mean Roberts.'
Mr Roberts drove on, merely remarking:
'Ah, Gossington Hall. Great changes there and everywhere nowadays. All that development. Never thought anything like that'd come to St Mary Mead.'
Upon arrival at Gossington Hall Miss Marple rang the bell and asked to see Mr Jason Rudd.
Giuseppe's successor, a rather shaky-looking elderly man, conveyed doubt.
'Mr Rudd,' he said, 'does not see anybody without an appointment, madam. And today especially -'
'I have no appointment,' said Miss Marple, 'but I will wait,' she added.
She stepped briskly past him into the hall and sat down on a hall chair.
'I'm afraid it will be quite impossible this morning, madam.'
'In that case,' said Miss Marple, 'I shall wait until this afternoon.'
Baffled, the new butler retired. Presently a young man came to Miss Marple. He had a pleasant manner and a cheerful, slightly American voice.
'I've seen you before,' said Miss Marple. 'In the Development. You asked me the way to Blenheim Close.'
Harley Preston smiled good-naturedly. 'I guess you did your best, but you misdirected me badly.'
'Dear me, did I?' said Miss Marple. 'So many Closes, aren't there. Can I see Mr Rudd?'
'Why, now, that's too bad,' said Harley Preston. 'Mr Rudd's a busy man and he's – er – fully occupied this morning and really can't be disturbed.'
'I'm sure he's very busy,' said Miss Marple. 'I came here quite prepared to wait.'
'Why, I'd suggest now,' said Hailey Preston, 'that you should tell me what it is you want. I deal with all these things for Mr Rudd, you see. Everyone has to see me first.'
'I'm afraid,' said Miss Marple, 'that I want to see Mr Rudd himself. And,' she added, 'I shall wait here until I do.'
She settled herself more firmly in the large oak chair.
Hailey Preston hesitated, started to speak, finally turned away and went upstairs.
He returned with a large man in tweeds.
'This is Dr Gilchrist. Miss – er -'
'Miss Marple.'
'So you're Miss Marple,' said Dr Gilchrist. He looked at her with a good deal of interest.
Hailey Preston slipped away with celerity.
'I've heard about you,' said Dr Gilchrist. 'From Dr Haydock.'
'Dr Haydock is a very old friend of mine.'
'He certainly is. Now you want to see Mr Jason Rudd? Why?'
'It is necessary that I should,' said Miss Marple.
Dr Gilchrist's eyes appraised her.
'And you're camping here until you do?' he asked.
'Exactly.'
'You would, too,' said Dr Gilchrist. 'In that case I will give you a perfectly good reason why you cannot see Mr Rudd. His wife died last night in her sleep.'
'Dead? exclaimed Miss Marples. 'How?'
'An overdose of sleeping stuff. We don't want the news to leak out to the Press for a few hours. So I'll ask you to keep this knowledge to yourself for the moment.'
'Of course. Was it an accident?'
'That is definitely my view,' said Gilchrist.
'But it could be suicide.'
'It could – but most unlikely.'
'Or someone could have given it to her?'
Gilchrist shrugged his shoulders.
'A most remote contingency. And a thing,' he added firmly, 'that would be quite impossible to prove.'
'I see,' said Miss Marple. She took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry, but it's more necessary than ever that I should see Mr Rudd.'
Gilchrist looked at her.
'Wait here,' he said.
Chapter 23
Jason Rudd looked up as Gilchrist entered.
'There's an old dame downstairs,' said the doctor; 'looks about a hundred. Wants to see you. Won't take no and says she'll wait. She'll wait till this afternoon, I gather, or she'll wait till this evening and she's quite capable, I should say, of spending the night here. She's got something she badly wants to say to you. I'd see her if I were you.'
Jason Rudd looked up from his desk. His face was white and strained.
'Is she mad?'
'No. Not in the least.'
'I don't see why I – Oh, all right – send her up. What does it matter?'
Gilchrist nodded, went out of the room and called to Hailey Preston.
'Mr Rudd can spare you a few minutes now, Miss Marple,' said Hailey Preston, appearing again by her side.
'Thank you. That's very kind of him,' said Miss Marple as she rose to her feet. 'Have you been with Mr Rudd long?' she asked.
'Why, I've worked with Mr Rudd for the last two and a half years. My job is public relations generally.'
'I see.' Miss Marple looked at him thoughtfully. 'You remind me very much,' she said, 'of someone I knew called Gerald French.'
