Death Knocks Three Times by Anthony Gilbert Read Free Book Online Page A

haven’t been listening to malicious local gossip.”
    “I—no, of course not. I haven’t seen any one. Why—^why shouldn’t it have been an accident? I warned her …”
    Miss Bond was on to that like a hawk dropping on an unfortunate shrew-mouse.
    “Warned her? Of what?”
    “Why, that the balcony wasn’t safe, of course.”
    His aunt looked as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “You knew the balcony was unsafe, and you didn’t say a word to me?”
    He mumbled something about Aunt Isabel asking him to say nothing, and promising to be very careful.
    “My dear John, you must have been out of your mind. You know how forgetful Isabel is—was, rather. Of course I see now what happened. She was mooning there and she leaned over and went crashing down. Really, John, you can’t be absolved from all blame. I don’t want to make things difficult for you, but if at the ^ inquest any one suggests anything except accident …”
    “What could they suggest?” asked John, looking bewildered. “I mean, no one could want to murder Aunt Isabel.”
    “Really, John, I begin to think you are out of your mind. Of course there is no question of murder.”
    “I never supposed there was,” he muttered. “After all, why should anyone suspect such a thing?”
    “Of course not. But—Isabel was always impulsive and she was not always the best judge of what was best for her, and so …”
    “You mean suicide?” Astonishment jerked the words out of him. “Oh, but surely that’s out of the question. The last time I saw her, only a day or two ago, she was happier than I ever remember her. I got the impression that something she had always hoped for had happened at last.”
    “May I ask what she told you?” The old voice was brittle as fine glass.
    “Oh, nothing definite. But people who are as happy as that on Monday don’t throw themselves over balconies on Tuesday or ei^en on Tuesday week.”
    “My dear John, I thought you claimed to be a realist. It is precisely people like Isabel, who live entirely by temperament rather than by any reasonable theory, who take these drastic steps. Still, as I say, this death was an accident. You will be able to go on the witness-stand and repeat what you have just told me. That should silence lying tongues. I am afraid it was common knowledge that she was always a little peculiar …”
    “You mean, you’re going to let people think she was non compos mentis‘7d”
    “I said nothing of the kind, and I will thank you, John, not to
    twist my words. But she was utterly at the mercy of her emotions. If I had listened to her I should have had the house filled with strays, human and animal. Did you know she once actually wanted to adopt the baby of some immoral housemaid we had? She cried for days when I told her it was out of the question. My father recognized this unreliable trait in her. That is why he left all his money to me to be administered for the two of us.”
    “Do you mean,” asked John incredulously, “that Aunt Isabel had nothing of her own?” It was unthinkable.
    “A few pounds, perhaps, from our mother’s jointure. But all the household expenses came out of my purse. I promised my father to make a home for her until she married. Unfortunately, marriage was out of the question; she was quite unsuited to such a life. But I intended to devote all my time to making a home for her, as our dear father wished. Now, don’t forget what I’ve told you. John, are you listening to a word I say? You look perfectly dazed.”
    John might have retorted that he was—by the information he had just received. What would other people think, what suspicions would they harbor? Not that it mattered. His Aunt Clara intended to get a verdict of death by misadventure, and of course she was successful.
    When the inquest was over John inquired whether he could be of any assistance in settling his deceased aunt’s affairs.
    “There’s nothing to settle,” said Clara, briskly. “In any