Agatha Christie - Murder is Easy

Doctor Thomas shrugged his shoulders.

"I have some knowledge of Humbleby's case. It seems to me quite out of the question that Ellsworthy could have caused his death, and I really cannot see that you have any evidence at all that he did so."

"I don't know how he managed it," confessed Luke, "but it all hangs together with Miss Fullerton's story."

"There again you assert that Ellsworthy followed her up to London and ran her down in a car. Again you haven't a shadow of proof that happened! It's all — well, romancing!"

Luke said sharply, "Now that I know where I am, it will be my business to get proofs. I'm going up to London tomorrow to see an old pal of mine. I saw in the paper two days ago that he's been made assistant commissioner. He knows me and he'll listen to what I have to say. One thing I'm sure of. He'll order a thorough investigation of the whole business."

Doctor Thomas stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Well, no doubt that should be very satisfactory. If it turns out that you're mistaken –"

Luke interrupted him, "You definitely don't believe a word of all this?"

"In wholesale murder?" Doctor Thomas raised his eyebrows. "Quite frankly, Mr. Fitzwilliam, I don't. The thing is too fantastic."

"Fantastic, perhaps, but it hangs together. You've got to admit it hangs together. Once you accept Miss Fullerton's story as true."

Doctor Thomas was shaking his head. A slight smile came to his lips.

"If you knew some of these old maids as well as I do –" he murmured.

Luke rose, trying to control his annoyance.

"At any rate, you're well named," he said. "A doubting Thomas if there ever was one!"

Thomas replied good-humoredly. "Give me a few proofs, my dear fellow. That's all I ask. Not just a long melodramatic rigmarole based on what an old lady fancied she saw."

"What old ladies fancy they see is very often right. My Aunt Mildred was positively uncanny! Have you got any aunts yourself, Thomas?"

"Well — er — no."

"A mistake!" said Luke. "Every man should have aunts. They illustrate the triumph of guesswork over logic. It is reserved for aunts to know that Mr. A is a rogue because he looks like a dishonest butler they once had. Other people say, reasonably enough, that a respectable man like Mr. A couldn't be a crook. The old ladies are right every time." Doctor Thomas smiled his superior smile again. Luke said, his exasperation mounting once more, "Don't you realize that I'm a policeman myself? I'm not the complete amateur."

Doctor Thomas smiled and murmured, "In the Mayang Straits."

"Crime is crime even in the Mayang Straits."

"Of course — of course."

Luke left Doctor Thomas' surgery in a state of suppressed irritation. He joined Bridget, who said, "Well, how did you get on?"

"He didn't believe me," said Luke. "Which, when you come to think of it, is hardly surprising. It's a wild story with no proofs. Doctor Thomas is emphatically not the sort of man who believes six impossible things before breakfast."

"Will anybody believe you?"

"Probably not, but when I get hold of old Billy Bones tomorrow, the wheels will start turning. They'll check up on our long-haired friend, Ellsworthy, and in the end they're bound to get somewhere."

Bridget said thoughtfully, "We're coming out into the open very much, aren't we?"

"We've got to. We can't — we simply can't afford any more murders."

Bridget shivered. "Do be careful, Luke."

"I'm being careful, all right. Don't walk near gates with pineapples on them, avoid the lonely woods at nightfall, watch out for your food and drink. I know all the ropes."

"It's horrible feeling you're a marked man."

"So long as you're not a marked woman, my sweet."

"Perhaps I am."

"I don't think so. But I don't intend to take risks. I'm watching over you like an old-fashioned guardian angel."

"Is it any good saying anything to the police here?" Luke considered. "No, I don't think it is. Better go straight to Scotland Yard."

Bridget murmured, "That's what Miss Fullerton thought."

"Yes, but I shall be watching out for trouble."

Bridget said, "I know what I'm going to do tomorrow. I shall march Gordon down to that brute's shop and make him buy things."

"Thereby insuring that our Mr. Ellsworthy is not lying in ambush for me on the steps of Whitehall ?"

"That's the idea."

Luke said, with some slight embarrassment, "About Easterfield."

Bridget said quickly, "Let's leave it till you come back tomorrow. Then we'll have it out."

"Will he be very cut up, do you think?"

"Well –" Bridget considered the question — "he'll be annoyed."

"Annoyed? Ye gods! Isn't that putting it a bit mildly?"

"No. Because, you see, Gordon doesn't like being annoyed. It upsets him."

Luke said soberly, "I feel rather uncomfortable about it all."

That feeling was uppermost in his mind when he prepared that evening to listen for the twentieth time to Lord Easterfield on the subject of Lord Easterfield. It was, he admitted, a cad's trick to stay in a man's house and steal his fiancйe. He still felt, however, that a pot-bellied, pompous, strutting little nincompoop like Lord Easterfield ought never to have aspired to Bridget at all. But his conscience so far chastened him that he listened with an extra dose of fervent attention and, in consequence, made a thoroughly favorable impression on his host. Lord Easterfield was in high good humor this evening.

The death of his erstwhile chauffeur seemed to have exhilarated rather than depressed him. "Told you that fellow would come to a bad end," he crowed, holding up a glass of port to the light and squinting through it. "Didn't I tell you so yesterday evening!"

"You did, indeed, sir."

"And, you see, I was right! It's amazing how often I'm right!"

"That must be splendid for you," said Luke.

"I've had a wonderful life — yes, a wonderful life! My path's been smoothed clear before me. I've always had great faith and trust in Providence . That's the secret, Fitzwilliam — that's the secret."

"Yes?"

"I'm a religious man. I believe in good and evil and eternal justice. There is such a thing as divine justice, Fitzwilliam; not a doubt of it!"

"I believe in justice too," said Luke.

Lord Easterfield, as usual, was not interested in the beliefs of other people. "Do right by your Creator, and your Creator will do right by you! I've always been an upright man. I've subscribed to charity, and I've made my money honestly. I'm not beholden to any man! I stand alone. You remember in the Bible how the patriarchs became prosperous, herds and flocks were added to them, and their enemies were smitten down."

Luke stifled a yawn and said, "Quite, quite."

"It's remarkable — absolutely remarkable," said Lord Easterfield. "The way a righteous man's enemies are struck down! Look at yesterday. That fellow abuses me; even goes so far as to try to raise his hand against me. And what happens? Where is he today?" He paused rhetorically, and then answered himself in an impressive voice, "Dead! Struck down by divine wrath!"

Opening his eyes a little, Luke said, "Rather an excessive punishment, perhaps, for a few hasty words uttered after a glass too much."

Lord Easterfield shook his head. "It's always like that! Retribution comes swiftly and terribly. And there's a good authentic authority for it. Remember the children that mocked Elisha — how the bears came out and devoured them. That's the way things happen, Fitzwilliam."

"I always thought that was rather unnecessarily vindictive."

"No, no. You're looking at it the wrong way. Elisha was a great and holy man. No one could be suffered to mock at him and live. I understand that because of my own case." Luke looked puzzled. Lord Easterfield lowered his voice. "I could hardly believe it at first. But it happened every time! My enemies and detractors were cast down and exterminated."