Sleeping Murder by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online

very delightful children. Let me tell you!”
    She told him the story and Haydock listened.
    â€œExtraordinary,” he said when she had finished. “Extraordinary coincidence. Extraordinary business altogether. I suppose you see what the implications are?”
    â€œOh, of course. But I don’t think it’s occurred to them yet.”
    â€œIt will mean a good deal of unhappiness and they’ll wish they’d never meddled with the thing. Skeletons should be kept in their cupboards. Still, you know, I can quite see young Giles’s point of view. Dash it all, I couldn’t leave the thing alone myself. Even now, I’m curious….”
    He broke off and directed a stern glance at Miss Marple.
    â€œSo that’s what you’re doing with your excuses to get to Dillmouth. Mixing yourself up in something that’s no concern of yours.”
    â€œNot at all, Dr. Haydock. But I’m worried about those two. They’re very young and inexperienced and much too trusting and credulous. I feel I ought to be there to look after them.”
    â€œSo that’s why you’re going. To look after them! Can’t you ever leave murder alone, woman? Even murder in retrospect?”
    Miss Marple gave a small prim smile.
    â€œBut you do think, don’t you, that a few weeks at Dillmouth would be beneficial to my health?”
    â€œMore likely to be the end of you,” said Dr. Haydock. “But you won’t listen to me!”
    III
    On her way to call upon her friends, Colonel and Mrs. Bantry, Miss Marple met Colonel Bantry coming along the drive, his gun in his hand and his spaniel at his heels. He welcomed her cordially.
    â€œGlad to see you back again. How’s London?”
    Miss Marple said that London was very well. Her nephew had taken her to several plays.
    â€œHighbrow ones, I bet. Only care for a musical comedy myself.”
    Miss Marple said that she had been to a Russian play that was very interesting, though perhaps a little too long.
    â€œRussians!” said Colonel Bantry explosively. He had once been given a novel by Dostoievsky to read in a nursing home.
    He added that Miss Marple would find Dolly in the garden.
    Mrs. Bantry was almost always to be found in the garden. Gardening was her passion. Her favourite literature was bulb catalogues and her conversation dealt with primulas, bulbs, flowering shrubs and alpine novelties. Miss Marple’s first view of her was a substantial posterior clad in faded tweed.
    At the sound of approaching steps, Mrs. Bantry reassumed an erect position with a few creaks and winces, her hobby had made her rheumaticky, wiped her hot brow with an earth-stained hand and welcomed her friend.
    â€œHeard you were back, Jane,” she said. “Aren’t my new delphiniums doing well? Have you seen these new little gentians? I’ve hada bit of trouble with them, but I think they’re all set now. What we need is rain. It’s been terribly dry.” She added, “Esther told me you were ill in bed.” Esther was Mrs. Bantry’s cook and liaison officer with the village. “I’m glad to see it’s not true.”
    â€œJust a little overtired,” said Miss Marple. “Dr. Haydock thinks I need some sea air. I’m rather run-down.”
    â€œOh, but you couldn’t go away now, ” said Mrs. Bantry. “This is absolutely the best time of the year in the garden. Your border must be just coming into flower.”
    â€œDr. Haydock thinks it would be advisable.”
    â€œWell, Haydock’s not such a fool as some doctors,” admitted Mrs. Bantry grudgingly.
    â€œI was wondering, Dolly, about that cook of yours.”
    â€œWhich cook? Do you want a cook? You don’t mean that woman who drank, do you?”
    â€œNo, no, no. I mean the one who made such delicious pastry. With a husband who was the butler.”
    â€œOh, you mean the Mock Turtle,” said Mrs.