The Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie Read Free Book Online

you in a hole-and-corner way. And look here, my dear, don't let them get round you with soft soap either. Don't get fancying it's your duty to hand over the cash, or any tomfoolery of conscientious scruples.”
    “I'm afraid it hasn't occurred to me to have scruples,” said Katherine. “All these people are distant relatives of Mrs Harfield's husband, and they never came near her or took any notice of her in her lifetime.”
    “You're a sensible woman,” said the doctor. “I know, none better, that you've had a hard life of it for the last ten years. You're fully entitled to enjoy the old lady's savings, such as they were.”
    Katherine smiled thoughtfully.
    “Such as they were,” she repeated. “You've no idea of the amount, doctor?”
    “Well - enough to bring in five hundred a year or so, I suppose.”
    Katherine nodded.
    “That's what I thought,” she said. “Now read this.”
    She handed him the letter she had taken from the long blue envelope. The doctor read and uttered an exclamation of utter astonishment.
    “Impossible,” he muttered. “Impossible.”
    “She was one of the original shareholders in Mortaulds. Forty years ago she must have had an income of eight or ten thousand a year. She has never, I am sure, spent more than four hundred a year. She was always terribly careful about money. I always believed that she was obliged to be careful about every penny.”
    “And all the time the income has accumulated at compound interest. My dear, you're going to be a very rich woman.”
    Katherine Grey nodded.
    “Yes,” she said, “I am.”
    She spoke in a detached, impersonal tone, as though she were looking at the situation from outside.
    “Well,” said the doctor, preparing to depart, “you have all my congratulations.” He flicked Mrs Samuel Harfield's letter with his thumb. “Don't worry about that woman and her odious letter.”
    “It really isn't an odious letter,” said Miss Grey tolerantly. “Under the circumstances, I think it's really quite a natural thing to do.”
    “I have the gravest suspicions of you sometimes,” said the doctor.
    “Why?”
    “The things that you find perfectly natural.”
    Katherine Grey laughed.
    Doctor Harrison retailed the great news to his wife at lunch-time. She was very excited about it.
    “Fancy old Mrs Harfield - with all that money. I'm glad she left it to Katherine Grey. That girl's a saint.”
    The doctor made a wry face.
    “Saints I always imagine must have been difficult people. Katherine Grey is too human for a saint.”
    “She's a saint with a sense of humour,” said the doctor's wife, twinkling. “And, though I don't suppose you've ever noticed the fact, she's extremely good looking.”
    “Katherine Grey?” The doctor was honestly surprised. “She's got very nice eyes, I know.”
    “Oh, you men!” cried his wife. “Blind as bats. Katherine's got all the makings of a beauty in her. All she wants is clothes!”
    “Clothes? What's wrong with her clothes? She always looks very nice.”
    Mrs Harrison gave an exasperated sigh, and the doctor rose preparatory to starting on his rounds.
    “You might look in on her, Polly,” he suggested.
    “I'm going to,” said Mrs Harrison promptly.
    She made her call about three o'clock.
    “My dear, I'm so glad,” she said warmly, as she squeezed Katherine's hand. “And everyone in the village will be glad too.”
    “It's very nice of you to come and tell me,” said Katherine. “I hoped you would come, because I wanted to ask about Johnnie.”
    “Oh! Johnnie. Well -”
    Johnnie was Mrs Harrison's youngest son. In another minute she was off, retailing a long history in which Johnnie's adenoids and tonsils bulked largely. Katherine listened sympathetically. Habits die hard. Listening had been her portion for ten years now. “My dear, I wonder if I ever told you about that naval ball at Portsmouth? When Lord Charles admired my gown?” And composedly, kindly, Katherine would reply: “I rather