Closed Casket: The New Hercule Poirot Mystery (Hercule Poirot Mystery 2) by Sophie Hannah Read Free Book Online

I don’t have a kitchen, but if I ever do, if I am ever the proud owner of a kitchen …”—because that’s how he talks! Oh, it makes me laugh, the way he says things. And, d’you know, I think that pompous Randall Kimpton copies him, the way he comes out with things, but he’s not got Joseph’s charm and he’ll never have it, no matter how he tries. “If I am ever the proud owner of a kitchen,” Joseph says to me, he says, “I hereby solemnly swear that I shall never throw you out of it. On the contrary, I should want you to be in it all of the time and not least because I cannot so much as poach an egg!” See what I mean? He’s so kind, is Joseph. I only stay for him.’
    Joseph Scotcher appeared to know precisely what to say in order to make others feel better. It was jolly decent of him to take the trouble, I thought—with strangers like me who happened to be visiting; with the servants.
    As for Phyllis’s contention that Randall Kimpton had it in mind to copy Scotcher, I found that rather puzzling. Kimpton struck me as very much himself and the sort of purposeful, fully formed chap who had always been that same self. From what little I had seen of him, I could not imagine him changing course for anybody. Well, perhaps for his beloved Claudia—but certainly not for Joseph Scotcher. Still, I had to concede that Phyllis probably knew both men far better than I did.
    I wondered how many ripples of discomfort at Lillieoak Scotcher had been skilfully smoothing away since he had arrived. How would the other inhabitants of the house manage after his death?
    Some people were more virtuous and self-sacrificing than others, there was no doubt about it. Claudia Playford, for instance, struck me as a woman who would do and say nothing for the benefit of anyone but herself.
    At that moment the floor beneath me started to shake. Phyllis leapt to her feet. ‘She’s coming!’ she whispered, frantic. ‘Don’t say I’ve told you anything or she’ll have my guts for garters!’
    A short, compact barrel of a woman came into view, stomping towards us. She had a red face and curly, iron-grey hair that formed a stiff sort of circle around her head, like a wire crown.
    ‘There you are!’ She wiped her chunky red hands on her apron. ‘I’ve got better things to do than run around looking for you! Do you think the dinner’s going to grow legs and walk to the dining room on its own? Do you?’
    ‘No, Cook.’
    ‘No, Cook! Then get in there and serve it like a good girl!’
    Phyllis scuttled away. I tried to make my escape at the same time, but Brigid moved to block my way. After looking me up and down for a few seconds, she said, ‘Meeting with the likes of you, bottom of the stairs when there’s no one about—just what that girl needs! On and on she goes about that Scotcher fellow—wasting her time, whichever way you slice it—but next time, not when I’m trying to get dinner started, if you don’t mind.’
    I think my mouth might well have fallen open.
    Before I could protest, Brigid was marching away at speed, shaking the ground as she went.

CHAPTER 6
The Announcement
    I had expected to be last to the dining room, but I arrived to find everybody speculating about what had become of Athelinda Playford. Her place at the head of the table was unoccupied. ‘Were you not with her?’ Dorro Playford demanded of me, as if I jolly well ought to have been. I told her that I had been talking to Phyllis and had not seen Lady Playford.
    ‘Dorro, stop being a harridan,’ said Randall Kimpton as I sat down between Orville Rolfe and Sophie Bourlet. ‘Piece of advice, Catchpool: never answer one of Dorro’s questions—she will quickly come up with another nineteen at least. Whistle and look the other way. It’s the only sensible approach.’
    I took a sip from my water glass to avoid having to respond. I would have reached for one of the wine glasses, but they had not yet been filled.
    ‘Well, I would like to know