Free Murder is Easy by Agatha Christie Page B

really do think, Mr. Fitzwilliam, that she was one of those people who have second sight. I think she knew that something was going to happen to her. And she must have known that something was going to happen to Daddy too. It's - it's rather frightening, that sort of thing!” She moved a step nearer to him.
    “There are times when one can foresee the future,” said Luke. “It isn't always supernatural, though.”
    “No, I suppose it's quite natural, really - just a faculty that most people lack. All the same it worries me.”
    “You mustn't worry,” said Luke gently. “Remember, it's all behind you now. It's no good going back over the past. It's the future one has to live for.”
    “I know. But there's more, you see.” Rose hesitated. “There was something - to do with your cousin.”
    “My cousin? Bridget?”
    “Yes. Miss Fullerton was worried about her in the same way. She was always asking me questions. I think she was afraid for her too.”
    Luke turned, sharply scanning the hillside. He had an unreasoning sense of fear for Bridget. Fancy - all fancy! Ellsworthy was only a harmless dilettante who played at shopkeeping. As though reading his thoughts. Rose said, “Do you like Mr. Ellsworthy?”
    “Emphatically no.”
    “Geoffrey - Doctor Thomas, you know - doesn't like him either.”
    “And you?”
    “Oh, no, I think he's dreadful.” She drew a little nearer. “There's a lot of talk about him. I was told that he had some queer ceremony in the Witches' Meadow - a lot of his friends came down from London - frightfully queer-looking people. And Tommy Pierce was a kind of acolyte.”
    “Tommy Pierce?” said Luke sharply.
    “Yes. He had a surplice and a red cassock.”
    “When was this?”
    “Oh, some time ago. I think it was in March.”
    “Tommy Pierce seems to have been mixed up in everything that ever took place in this village.”
    Rose said, “He was frightfully inquisitive. He always had to know whatever was going on.”
    “He probably knew a bit too much in the end,” said Luke grimly.
    Rose accepted the words at their face value.
    “He was rather an odious little boy. He liked cutting up wasps and he teased dogs.”
    “The kind of boy whose decease is hardly to be regretted.”
    “No, I suppose not. It was terrible for his mother, though.”
    “I gather she has six blessings left to console her. She's got a good tongue, that woman.”
    “She does talk a lot, doesn't she?”
    “After buying a few cigarettes from her, I feel I know the full history of everyone in the place.”
    Rose said ruefully, “That's the worst of a place like this. Everybody knows everything about everybody else.”
    “Oh, no,” said Luke.
    She looked at him inquiringly.
    Luke said, with significance, “No one human being knows the full truth about another human being. Not even one's nearest and dearest.”
    “Not even -” She stopped. “Oh, I suppose you're right, but I wish you wouldn't say frightening things like that, Mr. Fitzwilliam.”
    “Does it frighten you?”
    Slowly, she nodded her head. Then she turned abruptly. “I must be going now. If - if you have nothing better to do - I mean if you could - do come and see us. Mother would - would like to see you because of your knowing friends of Daddy's so long ago.”
    She walked slowly away down the road. Her head was bent a little, as though some weight of care or perplexity bowed it down.
    Luke stood looking after her. A sudden wave of solicitude swept over him. He felt a longing to shield and protect this girl. From what? Asking himself the question, he shook his head with a momentary impatience at himself. It was true that Rose Humbleby had recently lost her father, but she had a mother, and she was engaged to be married, to a decidedly attractive young man who was fully adequate to anything in the protection line. Then why should he, Luke Fitzwilliam, be assailed by this protection complex?
    “All the same,” he said to himself, as he strolled