Free The Complete Miss Marple Collection by Agatha Christie Page A

mischief.”
    Melchett nodded.
    We left the room and descended the stairs. I saw a thin, cadaverous-looking man come out of the adjoining room and on impulse I remounted the stairs.
    â€œAre you Colonel Protheroe’s valet?”
    The man looked surprised. “Yes, sir.”
    â€œDo you know whether your late master kept a pistol anywhere?”
    â€œNot that I know of, sir.”
    â€œNot in one of the drawers of his dressing table? Think, man.”
    The valet shook his head decisively.
    â€œI’m quite sure he didn’t, sir. I’d have seen it if so. Bound to.”
    I hurried down the stairs after the others.
    Mrs. Protheroe had lied about the pistol.
    Why?

Nine
    A fter leaving a message at the police station, the Chief Constable announced his intention of paying a visit to Miss Marple.
    â€œYou’d better come with me, Vicar,” he said. “I don’t want to give a member of your flock hysterics. So lend the weight of your soothing presence.”
    I smiled. For all her fragile appearance, Miss Marple is capable of holding her own with any policeman or Chief Constable in existence.
    â€œWhat’s she like?” asked the Colonel, as we rang the bell. “Anything she says to be depended upon or otherwise?”
    I considered the matter.
    â€œI think she is quite dependable,” I said cautiously. “That is, in so far as she is talking of what she has actually seen. Beyond that, of course, when you get on to what she thinks—well, that is another matter. She has a powerful imagination and systematically thinks the worst of everyone.”
    â€œThe typical elderly spinster, in fact,” said Melchett, with alaugh. “Well, I ought to know the breed by now. Gad, the tea parties down here!”
    We were admitted by a very diminutive maid and shown into a small drawing room.
    â€œA bit crowded,” said Colonel Melchett, looking round. “But plenty of good stuff. A lady’s room, eh, Clement?”
    I agreed, and at that moment the door opened and Miss Marple made her appearance.
    â€œVery sorry to bother you, Miss Marple,” said the Colonel, when I had introduced him, putting on his bluff military manner which he had an idea was attractive to elderly ladies. “Got to do my duty, you know.”
    â€œOf course, of course,” said Miss Marple. “I quite understand. Won’t you sit down? And might I offer you a little glass of cherry brandy? My own making. A recipe of my grandmother’s.”
    â€œThank you very much, Miss Marple. Very kind of you. But I think I won’t. Nothing till lunch time, that’s my motto. Now, I want to talk to you about this sad business—very sad business indeed. Upset us all, I’m sure. Well, it seems possible that owing to the position of your house and garden, you may have been able to tell us something we want to know about yesterday evening.”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, I was in my little garden from five o’clock onwards yesterday, and, of course, from there—well, one simply cannot help seeing anything that is going on next door.”
    â€œI understand, Miss Marple, that Mrs. Protheroe passed this way yesterday evening?”
    â€œYes, she did. I called out to her, and she admired my roses.”
    â€œCould you tell us about what time that was?”
    â€œI should say it was just a minute or two after a quarter pastsix. Yes, that’s right. The church clock had just chimed the quarter.”
    â€œVery good. What happened next?”
    â€œWell, Mrs. Protheroe said she was calling for her husband at the Vicarage so that they could go home together. She had come along the lane, you understand, and she went into the Vicarage by the back gate and across the garden.”
    â€œShe came from the lane?”
    â€œYes, I’ll show you.”
    Full of eagerness, Miss Marple led us out into the garden and pointed out the lane that ran along by the