Айзек Азимов - The Big Book of Christmas Mysteries

“You wouldn’t know, dear,” said Mrs. Bantry, and explained. Her husband added his quota:

“Beastly places — absolutely beastly! Got to get up early and drink filthy-tasting water. Lot of old women sitting about. Ill-natured tittle tattle. God, when I think—”

“Now, Arthur,” said Mrs. Bantry placidly. “You know it did you all the good in the world.”

“Lot of old women sitting round talking scandal,” grunted Colonel Bantry.

“That, I am afraid, is true,” said Miss Marple. “I myself—”

“My dear Miss Marple,” cried the colonel, horrified. “I didn’t mean for one moment—”

With pink cheeks and a little gesture of the hand, Miss Marple stopped him.

“But it is true, Colonel Bantry. Only I should like to say this. Let me recollect my thoughts. Yes. Talking scandal, as you say — well it is done a good deal. And people are very down on it — especially young people. My nephew, who writes books — and very clever ones, I believe — has said some most scathing things about taking people’s characters away without any kind of proof — and how wicked it is, and all that. But what I say is that none of these young people ever stop to think . They really don’t examine the facts. Surely the whole crux of the matter is this. How often is tittle tattle , as you call it, true! And I think if, as I say, they really examined the facts they would find that it was true nine times out of ten! That’s really just what makes people so annoyed about it.”

“The inspired guess,” said Sir Henry.

“No, not that, not that at all! It’s really a matter of practice and experience. An Egyptologist, so I’ve heard, if you show him one of those curious little beetles, can tell you by the look and the feel of the thing what date BC it is, or if it’s a Birmingham imitation. And he can’t always give a definite rule for doing so. He just knows . His life has been spent handling such things.

“And that’s what I’m trying to say (very badly, I know). What my nephew calls ‘superfluous women’ have a lot of time on their hands, and their chief interest is usually people . And so, you see, they get to be what one might call experts . Now young people nowadays — they talk very freely about things that weren’t mentioned in my young days, but on the other hand their minds are terribly innocent. They believe in everyone and everything. And if one tries to warn them, ever so gently, they tell one that one has a Victorian mind — and that, they say, is like a sink .”

“After all,” said Sir Henry, “what is wrong with a sink ?”

“Exactly,” said Miss Marple eagerly. “It’s the most necessary thing in any house; but, of course, not romantic. Now I must confess that I have my feelings , like everyone else, and I have sometimes been cruelly hurt by unthinking remarks. I know gentlemen are not interested in domestic matters, but I must just mention my maid Ethel — a very good-looking girl and obliging in every way. Now I realized as soon as I saw her that she was the same type as Annie Webb and poor Mrs. Bruitt’s girl. If the opportunity arose mine and thine would mean nothing to her. So I let her go at the month and I gave her a written reference saying she was honest and sober, but privately I warned old Mrs. Edwards against taking her; and my nephew, Raymond, was exceedingly angry and said he had never heard of anything so wicked — yes, wicked . Well, she went to Lady Ashton, whom I felt no obligation to warn — and what happened? All the lace cut off her underclothes and two diamond brooches taken — and the girl departed in the middle of the night and never heard of since!”

Miss Marple paused, drew a long breath, and then went on.

“You’ll be saying this has nothing to do with what went on at Keston Spa Hydro — but it has in a way. It explains why I felt no doubt in my mind the first moment I saw the Sanders together that he meant to do away with her.”

“Eh?” said Sir Henry, leaning forward.

Miss Marple turned a placid face to him.

“As I say, Sir Henry, I felt no doubt in my own mind. Mr. Sanders was a big, good-looking, florid-faced man, very hearty in his manner and popular with all. And nobody could have been pleasanter to his wife than he was. But I knew! He meant to make away with her.”

“My dear Miss Marple—”

“Yes, I know. That’s what my nephew Raymond West, would say. He’d tell me I hadn’t a shadow of proof. But I remember Walter Hones, who kept the Green Man. Walking home with his wife one night she fell into the river — and he collected the insurance money! And one or two other people that are walking about scot-free to this day — one indeed in our own class of life. Went to Switzerland for a summer holiday climbing with his wife. I warned her not to go — the poor dear didn’t get angry with me as she might have done — she only laughed. It seemed to her funny that a queer old thing like me should say such things about her Harry. Well, well, there was an accident — and Harry is married to another woman now. But what could I do ? I knew , but there was no proof.”

“Oh! Miss Marple,” cried Mrs. Bantry. “You don’t really mean—”

“My dear, these things are very common — very common indeed. And gentlemen are especially tempted, being so much the stronger. So easy if a thing looks like an accident. As I say, I knew at once with the Sanders. It was on a tram. It was full inside and I had had to go on top. We all three got up to get off and Mr. Sanders lost his balance and fell right against his wife, sending her headfirst down the stairs. Fortunately the conductor was a very strong young man and caught her.”

“But surely that must have been an accident.”

“Of course it was an accident — nothing could have looked more accidental. But Mr. Sanders had been in the Merchant Service, so he told me, and a man who can keep his balance on a nasty tilting boat doesn’t lose it on top of a tram if an old woman like me doesn’t. Don’t tell me!”

“At any rate we can take it that you made up your mind, Miss Marple,” said Sir Henry. “Made it up then and there.”

The old lady nodded.

“I was sure enough, and another incident in crossing the street not long afterwards made me surer still. Now I ask you, what could I do, Sir Henry? Here was a nice contented happy little married woman shortly going to be murdered.”

“My dear lady, you take my breath away.”

“That’s because, like most people nowadays, you won’t face facts. You prefer to think such a thing couldn’t be. But it was so, and I knew it. But one is so sadly handicapped! I couldn’t, for instance, go to the police. And to warn the young woman would, I could see, be useless. She was devoted to the man. I just made it my business to find out as much as I could about them. One has a lot of opportunities doing one’s needlework round the fire. Mrs. Sanders (Gladys, her name was) was only too willing to talk. It seems they had not been married very long. Her husband had some property that was coming to him, but for the moment they were very badly off. In fact, they were living on her little income. One has heard that tale before. She bemoaned the fact that she could not touch the capital. It seems that somebody had had some sense somewhere! But the money was hers to will away — I found that out. And she and her husband had made wills in favour of each other directly after their marriage. Very touching. Of course, when Jack’s affairs came right — That was the burden all day long, and in the meantime they were very hard up indeed — actually had a room on the top floor, all among the servants — and so dangerous in case of fire, though, as it happened, there was a fire escape just outside their window. I inquired carefully if there was a balcony — dangerous things, balconies. One push — you know!