帷幕24

II

I knew as well as Poirot that the danger was very close. I had more reasonto know it than he had, because of what I had actually overheard the pre-vious night.

Nevertheless I pondered on that phrase of Poirot’s as I went down tobreakfast. ‘I would trust her if I were you.’

It had come unexpectedly, but it had given me an odd sense of comfort.

And almost immediately, the truth of it was justified. For Judith had obvi-ously changed her mind about going up to London that day.

Instead she went off with Franklin to the lab as usual directly afterbreakfast, and it was clear that they were to have an arduous and busyday there.

A feeling of intense thanksgiving rushed over me. How mad, how des-pairing I had been last night. I had assumed – assumed quite certainly –that Judith had yielded to Allerton’s specious proposals. But it was true, Ireflected now, that I had never heard her actually assent. No, she was toofine, too essentially good and true, to give in. She had refused the rendez-vous.

Allerton had breakfasted early, I found, and gone off to Ipswich. He,then, had kept to the plan and must assume that Judith was going up toLondon as arranged.

‘Well,’ I thought grimly, ‘he will get a disappointment.’

Boyd Carrington came along and remarked rather grumpily that Ilooked very cheerful this morning.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’ve had some good news.’

He said that it was more than he had. He’d had a tiresome telephone callfrom the architect, some building difficulty – a local surveyor cutting uprough. Also worrying letters. And he was afraid he’d let Mrs Franklinoverdo herself the day before.

Mrs Franklin was certainly making up for her recent bout of goodhealth and spirits. She was, so I gathered from Nurse Craven, making her-self quite impossible.

Nurse Craven had had to give up her day off which had been promisedher to go and meet some friends,

and she was decidedly sour about it. Since early morning Mrs Franklinhad been calling for sal volatile, hot-water bottles, various patent food anddrinks, and was unwilling to let Nurse leave the room. She had neuralgia,a pain round the heart, cramps in her feet and legs, cold shivers and Idon’t know what else.

I may say here and now that neither I, nor anyone else, was inclined tobe really alarmed. We all put it down as part of Mrs Franklin’s hypochon-driacal tendencies.

This was true of Nurse Craven and Dr Franklin as well.

The latter was fetched from the laboratory; he listened to his wife’s com-plaints, asked her if she would like the local doctor called in (violently neg-atived by Mrs Franklin); he then mixed her a sedative, soothed her as besthe could and went off back to work again.

Nurse Craven said to me: ‘He knows, of course, she’s just playing up.’

‘You don’t really think there’s anything much the matter?’

‘Her temperature is normal, and her pulse is perfectly good. Just fuss, ifyou ask me.’

She was annoyed and spoke out more imprudently than usual.

‘She likes to interfere with anyone else enjoying themselves. She’d likeher husband all worked up, and me running round after her, and even SirWilliam has got to be made to feel like a brute because he “overtired heryesterday”. She’s one of that kind.’

Nurse Craven was clearly finding her patient almost impossible today. Igathered that Mrs Franklin had been really extremely rude to her. Shewas the kind of woman whom nurses and servants instinctively disliked,not only because of the trouble she gave, but because of her manner of do-ing so.

So, as I say, none of us took her indisposition seriously.

The only exception was Boyd Carrington, who wandered round lookingrather pathetically like a small boy who has been scolded.

How many times since then have I not gone over and over the events ofthat day, trying to remember something so far unheeded – some tiny for-gotten incident, striving to remember exactly the manner of everybody.

How far they were normal, or showed excitement.

Let me, once more, put down exactly what I remember of everybody.

Boyd Carrington, as I have said, looked uncomfortable and rather guilty.

He seemed to think that he had been rather over-exuberant the day beforeand had been selfish in not thinking more of the frail health of his com-panion. He had been up once or twice to enquire about Barbara Franklin,and Nurse Craven, herself not in the best of tempers, had been tart andsnappish with him. He had even been to the village and purchased a boxof chocolates. This had been sent down. ‘Mrs Franklin couldn’t bearchocolates.’

Rather disconsolately, he opened the box in the smoking- room andNorton and I and he all solemnly helped ourselves.

Norton, I now think, had definitely something on his mind that morn-ing. He was abstracted, once or twice his brows drew together as thoughhe were puzzling over something.

He was fond of chocolates, and ate a good many in an abstracted fash-ion.

Outside, the weather had broken. Since ten o’clock the rain had beenpouring down.

It had not the melancholy that sometimes accompanies a wet day. Actu-ally it was a relief to us all.

Poirot had been brought down by Curtiss about midday and ensconcedin the drawing-room. Here Elizabeth Cole had joined him and was playingthe piano to him. She had a pleasant touch, and played Bach and Mozart,both favourite composers of my friend’s.

Franklin and Judith came up from the garden about a quarter to one. Ju-dith looked white and strained. She was very silent, looked vaguely abouther as though lost in a dream and then went away. Franklin sat downwith us. He, too, looked tired and absorbed, and he had, too, the air of aman very much on edge.

I said, I remember, something about the rain being a relief, and he saidquickly: ‘Yes. There are times when something’s got to break …’

And somehow I got the impression that it was not merely of the weatherthat he spoke. Awkward as always in his movements, he jerked against thetable and upset half the chocolates. With his usual startled air, he apolo-gized – apparently to the box.

‘Oh, sorry.’

It ought to have been funny, but somehow it wasn’t. He bent quicklyand picked up the spilt chocolates.

Norton asked him if he had had a tiring morning. His smile flashed outthen – eager, boyish, very much alive.

‘No – no – just realized, suddenly, I’ve been on the wrong track. Muchsimpler process altogether is what’s needed. Can take a short cut now.’

He stood swaying slightly to and fro on his feet, his eyes absent yet re-solved.

‘Yes, short cut. Much the best way.’

 

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