"That was a nasty business.

Hope they catch the man

who did it."

"Yes, indeed."

The ambulance came. Miss Gilchrist was taken away and the doctor went with her. He told Susan he would ring her 92

up in the morning. When he had left she went upstairs to bed, This time she fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow

2

The funeral was well attended. Most of the village had turned out. Susan and Mr. Entwhistle were the only mourners, but various wreaths had been sent by the other members of the family. Mr. Entwhistle asked where Miss Gilchrist was, and Susan explained the circ.u.mstances in a hurried whisper.

Mr. Entwhistle raised his eyebrows.

"Rather an odd occurrence ?"

"Oh, she's better this morning. They rang up from the hospital. People do get these bilious turns. Some make more fuss than others."

Mr. Entwhistle said no more. He was returning to London immediately after the funeral.

Susan went back to the cottage. She found some eggs and made herself an omelette. Then she went up to Cora's room and started to sort through the dead woman's things.

She was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor.

The doctor was looking worried. He replied to Susan's inquiry by saying that Miss Gilchrist was much better.

"She'll be out and around in a couple of days," he said.

"But it was lucky I got called in so promptly. Otherwise---it might have been ,a, near thing."

Susan stared. Was she really so bad ?"

"Mrs. Banks, will you tell me again exactly what Miss Gilchrist had to eat and drink yesterday. Everything."

Susan reflected and gave a meticulous account. The doctor shook his head in a dissatisfied manner.

"There must have been something she had and you didn't ?"

"I don't think so... Cakes, scones, jam, tea--and then supper. No, I can't remember anything."

The doctor rubbed his nose. He walked up and down the room.

"Was it definitely something she ate ? Definitely food poisoning ?"

The doctor threw her a sharp glance. Then he seemed to come to a decision.

"It was a.r.s.enic," he said.

"a.r.s.enic ?" Susan stared. "You mean somebody gave her a.r.s.enic ?"

93

"That's what it looks like." "Could she have taken it herself ? Deliberately, I mean ?"

"Suicide ? She says not and she should know. Besides, if she wanted to commit suicide she wouldn't be likely to choose a.r.s.enic. There are sleeping pills in this house. She could have taken an overdose of them."

"Could the a.r.s.enic have got into something by accident ?"

"That's what I'm wondering. It seems very unlikely, but such things have been known. But if you and she ate the same things--"

Susan nodded. She said, "It all seems impossible--"

then she gave a sudden gasp. "Why, of course, the wedding cake I"

"What's that ? Wedding cake ?"

Susan explained. The doctor listened with close attention.

"Odd. And you say she wasn't sure who sent,? ? Any of it left ? Or is the box it came in lying around ?

"I don't know. I'll look."

They searched together and finally found the white cardboard box with a few crumbs of cake still in it lying on the kitchen dresser. The doctor packed it away with some care.

"I'll take charge of this. Any idea where the wrapping paper it came in might be ?"

Here they were not successful and Susan said that it had probably gone into the Ideal boiler.

"You won't be leaving here just yet, lllrs. Banks ?"

His tone was genial, but it made Susan feel a little uncomfortable. "No, I have to .g,,o through my aunt's things. I shall be here for a few days "Good. You understand the police will probably want to ask some questions. You don't know of anyone who--well, might have had it in for Miss Gilchrist ?"

Susan shook her head.

"I don't really know much about her. She was with my aunt for some years--that's all I know."

"Quite, quite. Always seemed a pleasant una.s.suming woman--quite ordinary. Not the kind, you'd say, to have enemies or anything melodramatic of that kind. Wedding cake through the post. Sounds like some jealous woman--but who'd be jealous of Miss Gilchrist ? Doesn't seem to fit."

"No."

"Well, I must be on my way. I don't know what's hal>pening to us in quiet little Lytchett St. Mary. First a brutal

murder and now attempted poisoning through the post. Odd, the one following the other."

He went down the path to his car. The cottage felt stuffy and Susan left th door standing open as she went slowly upstairs to resume her task.

Cora Lansquenet had not been a tidy or methodical woman.

Her drawers held a miscellaneous a.s.sortment of things. There were toilet accessories and letters and old handkerchiefs and paint brushes mixed up together in one drawer. There were a few old letters and bills thrust in amongst a bulging drawer of underclothes. In another drawer under some woollen jumpers was a cardboard box holding two false fringes. There was another drawer full of old photographs and sketching books. Susan lingered over a group taken evidently at some French place many years ago and which showed a younger, thinner Cora clinging to the arm of a tall lanky man with a straggling beard dressed in what seemed to be a velveteen coat and whom Susan took to be the late Pierre Lansquenet.

The photographs interested Susan, but she laid them aside, sorted all the papers she had found into a heap and began to go through them methodically. About a quarter way through she came on a letter. She read it through twice and was still staring at it when a voice speaking behind her caused her to give a cry of alarm.

"And what may you have got hold of there, Susan ?

Hallo, what's the matter ?"

Susan reddened with annoyance. Her cry of alarm had been quite involuntary and she felt ashamed and anxious to explain.

"George ? How you startled me I"

Her cousin smiled lazily. "So it seems."

"How did you get here ?" "Well, the door downstairs was open, so I walked in.

There seemed to be n.o.body about on the ground floor, so I came up here. If you mean how did I get to this part of the world, I started down this morning to come to the funeral." "I didn't see you there ?"

"The old bus played me up. The petrol feed seemed choked. I tinkered with it for some time and finally it seemed to clear itself. I was too late for the funeral by then, but I thought I might as well come on down. I knew you were here."

He paused and then went on: 95

"I rang you up, as a matter of fact--and Greg told me you'd

come down to take possession, aa it were. I thought I might

give you a hand."

Susan said, "Aren't you needed in the office ? Or can you

take days off whenever you like ?"

"A funeral has always been a recognised excuse for absen teeism. And this funeral is indubitably genuine. Besides, a murder always fascinates people. Anyway, I shan't be

going much to the office in future--not now that I'm a man of

means. I shall have better things to do."

He paused and grinned, "Same as Greg," he said.

Susan looked at George thoughtfully. She had never seen

much of this cousin of hers and when they did meet she had

always found him rather difficult to make out.