A Murder Is Announced, стр. 32

After a night in the train, Inspector Craddock alighted at a small station in the Highlands.

It struck him for a moment as strange that the wealthy Mrs Goedler-an invalid-with a choice of a London house in a fashionable square, an estate in Hampshire, and a villa in the South of France, should have selected this remote Scottish home as her residence. Surely she was cut off here from many friends and distractions. It must be a lonely life-or was she too ill to notice or care about her surroundings?

A car was waiting to meet him. A big old-fashioned Daimler with an elderly chauffeur driving it. It was a sunny morning and the Inspector enjoyed the twenty-mile drive, though he marvelled anew at this preference for isolation. A tentative remark to the chauffeur brought partial enlightenment.

‘It’s her own home as a girl. Ay, she’s the last of the family. And she and Mr Goedler were always happier here than anywhere, though it wasn’t often he could get away from London. But when he did they enjoyed themselves like a couple of bairns.’

When the grey walls of the old keep came in sight, Craddock felt that time was slipping backwards. An elderly butler received him, and after a wash and a shave he was shown into a room with a huge fire burning in the grate, and breakfast was served to him.

After breakfast, a tall, middle-aged woman in nurse’s dress, with a pleasant and competent manner, came in and introduced herself as Sister McClelland.

‘I have my patient all ready for you, Mr Craddock. She is, indeed, looking forward to seeing you.’

‘I’ll do my best not to excite her,’ Craddock promised.

‘I had better warn you of what will happen. You will find Mrs Goedler apparently quite normal. She will talk and enjoy talking and then-quite suddenly-her powers will fail. Come away at once, then, and send for me. She is, you see, kept almost entirely under the influence of morphia. She drowses most of the time. In preparation for your visit, I have given her a strong stimulant. As soon as the effect of the stimulant wears off, she will relapse into semi-consciousness.’

‘I quite understand, Miss McClelland. Would it be in order for you to tell me exactly what the state of Mrs Goedler’s health is?’

‘Well, Mr Craddock, she is a dying woman. Her life cannot be prolonged for more than a few weeks. To say that she should have been dead years ago would strike you as odd, yet it is the truth. What has kept Mrs Goedler alive is her intense enjoyment and love of being alive. That sounds, perhaps, an odd thing to say of someone who has lived the life of an invalid for many years and has not left her home here for fifteen years, but it is true. Mrs Goedler has never been a strong woman-but she has retained to an astonishing degree the will to live.’ She added with a smile, ‘She is a very charming woman, too, as you will find.’

Craddock was shown into a large bedroom where a fire was burning and where an old lady lay in a large canopied bed. Though she was only about seven or eight years older than Letitia Blacklock, her fragility made her seem older than her years.

Her white hair was carefully arranged, a froth of pale blue wool enveloped her neck and shoulders. There were lines of pain on the face, but lines of sweetness, too. And there was, strangely enough, what Craddock could only describe as a roguish twinkle in her faded blue eyes.

‘Well, this is interesting,’ she said. ‘It’s not often I receive a visit from the police. I hear Letitia Blacklock wasn’t much hurt by this attempt on her? How is my dear Blackie?’

‘She’s very well, Mrs Goedler. She sent you her love.’

‘It’s a long time since I’ve seen her…For many years now, it’s been just a card at Christmas. I asked her to come up here when she came back to England after Charlotte’s death, but she said it would be painful after so long and perhaps she was right…Blackie always had a lot of sense. I had an old school friend to see me about a year ago, and, lor!’-she smiled-‘we bored each other to death. After we’d finished all the “Do you remembers?” there wasn’t anything to say.Most embarrassing.’

Craddock was content to let her talk before pressing his questions. He wanted, as it were, to get back into the past, to get the feel of the Goedler-Blacklock menage.

‘I suppose,’ said Belle shrewdly, ‘that you want to ask about the money? Randall left it all to go to Blackie after my death. Really, of course, Randall never dreamed that I’d outlive him. He was a big strong man, never a day’s illness, and I was always a mass of aches and pains and complaints and doctors coming and pulling long faces over me.’

‘I don’t think complaints would be the right word, Mrs Goedler.’

The old lady chuckled.

‘I didn’t mean it in the complaining sense. I’ve never beentoo sorry for myself. But it was always taken for granted that I, being the weakly one, would go first. It didn’t work out that way. No-it didn’t work out that way…’

‘Why, exactly, did your husband leave his money the way he did?’

‘You mean, why did he leave it to Blackie? Not for the reason you’ve probably been thinking.’ The roguish twinkle was very apparent. ‘What minds you policemen have! Randall was never in the least in love with her and she wasn’t with him. Letitia, you know, has really got a man’s mind. She hasn’t any feminine feelings or weaknesses. I don’t believe she was ever in love with any man. She was never particularly pretty and she didn’t care for clothes. She used a little make-up in deference to prevailing custom, but not to make herself look prettier.’ There was pity in the old voice as she went on: ‘She never knew any of the fun of being a woman.’

Craddock looked at the frail little figure in the big bed with interest. Belle Goedler, he realized,had enjoyed-still enjoyed-being a woman. She twinkled at him.

‘I’ve always thought,’ she said, ‘it must be terribly dull to be a man.’

Then she said thoughtfully:

‘I think Randall looked on Blackie very much as a kind of younger brother. He relied on her judgment which was always excellent. She kept him out of trouble more than once, you know.’

‘She told me that she came to his rescue once with money?’

‘That, yes, but I meant more than that. One can speak the truth after all these years. Randall couldn’t really distinguish between what was crooked and what wasn’t. His conscience wasn’t sensitive. The poor dear really didn’t know what was just smart-and what was dishonest. Blackie kept him straight. That’s one thing about Letitia Blacklock, she’s absolutely dead straight. She would never do anything that was dishonest. She’s a very fine character, you know. I’ve always admired her. They had a terrible girlhood, those girls. The father was an old country doctor-terrifically pig-headed and narrow-minded-the complete family tyrant. Letitia broke away, came to London, and trained herself as a chartered accountant. The other sister was an invalid, there was a deformity of kinds and she never saw people or went out. That’s why when the old man died, Letitia gave up everything to go home and look after her sister. Randall was wild with her-but it made no difference. If Letitia thought a thing was her duty she’d do it. And you couldn’t move her.’

‘How long was that before your husband died?’

‘A couple of years, I think. Randall made his will before she left the firm, and he didn’t alter it. He said to me: “We’ve no one of our own.” (Our little boy died, you know, when he was two years old.) “After you and I are gone, Blackie had better have the money. She’ll play the markets and make ’em sit up.”

‘You see,’ Belle went on, ‘Randall enjoyed the whole money-making game so much-it wasn’t just the money-it was the adventure, the risks, the excitement of it all. And Blackie liked it too. She had the same adventurous spirit and the same judgment. Poor darling, she’d never had any of the usual fun-being in love, and leading men on and teasing them-and having a home and children and all the real fun of life.’

Craddock thought it was odd, the real pity and indulgent contempt felt by this woman, a woman whose life had been hampered by illness, whose only child had died, whose husband had died, leaving her to a lonely widowhood, and who had been a hopeless invalid for years.

She nodded her head at him.

‘I know what you’re thinking. But I’vehad all the things that make life worth while-they may have been taken from me-but I have had them. I was pretty and gay as a girl, I married the man I loved, and he never stopped loving me…My child died, but I had him for two precious years…I’ve had a lot of physical pain-but if you have pain, you know how to enjoy the exquisite pleasure of the times when pain stops. And everyone’s been kind to me, always…I’m a lucky woman, really.’

Craddock seized upon an opening in her former remarks.

‘You said just now, Mrs Goedler, that your husband left his fortune to Miss Blacklock because he had no one else to leave it to. But that’s not strictly true, is it? He had a sister.’

‘Oh, Sonia. But they quarrelled years ago and made a clean break of it.’

‘He disapproved of her marriage?’

‘Yes, she married a man called-now what was his name-?’

‘Stamfordis.’

‘That’s it. Dmitri Stamfordis. Randall always said he was a crook. The two men didn’t like each other from the first. But Sonia was wildly in love with him and quite determined to marry him. And I really never saw why she shouldn’t. Men have such odd ideas about these things. Sonia wasn’t a mere girl-she was twenty-five, and she knew exactly what she was doing. He was a crook, I dare say-I mean really a crook. I believe he had a criminal record-and Randall always suspected the name he was passing under here wasn’t his own. Sonia knew all that. The point was, which of course Randall couldn’t appreciate, that Dmitri was really a wildly attractive person to women. And he was just as much in love with Sonia as she was with him. Randall insisted that he was just marrying her for her money-but that wasn’t true. Sonia was very handsome, you know. And she had plenty of spirit. If the marriage had turned out badly, if Dmitri had been unkind to her or unfaithful to her, she would just have cut her losses and walked out on him. She was a rich woman and could do as she chose with her life.’