Free Sleeping Murder by Agatha Christie

won’t tell us,” said Gwenda, as they got into the car. “There’s something —oh, Giles! I wish—I wish now that we’d never started….”
    They looked at each other, and in each mind, unacknowledged to the other, the same fear sprang.
    â€œMiss Marple was right,” said Gwenda. “We should have left the past alone.”
    â€œWe needn’t go any further,” said Giles uncertainly. “I think perhaps, Gwenda darling, we’d better not.”
    Gwenda shook her head.
    â€œNo, Giles, we can’t stop now. We should always be wondering and imagining. No, we’ve got to go on … Dr. Kennedy wouldn’t tell us because he wanted to be kind—but that sort of business is no good. We’ll have to go on and find out what really happened. Even if—even if—it was my father who …” But she couldn’t go on.

Eight
K ELVIN H ALLIDAY’S D ELUSION
    T hey were in the garden on the following morning when Mrs. Cocker came out and said: “Excuse me, sir. There’s a Doctor Kennedy on the telephone.”
    Leaving Gwenda in consultation with old Foster, Giles went into the house and picked up the telephone receiver.
    â€œGiles Reed here.”
    â€œThis is Dr. Kennedy. I’ve been thinking over our conversation yesterday, Mr. Reed. There are certain facts which I think perhaps you and your wife ought to know. Will you be at home if I come over this afternoon?”
    â€œCertainly we shall. What time?”
    â€œThree o’clock?”
    â€œSuits us.”
    In the garden old Foster said to Gwenda, “Is that Dr. Kennedy as used to live over at West Cliff?”
    â€œI expect so. Did you know him?”
    â€œE was allus reckoned to be the best doctor here—not but what Dr. Lazenby wasn’t more popular. Always had a word and a laugh to jolly you along, Dr. Lazenby did. Dr. Kennedy was always short and a bit dry, like—but he knew his job.”
    â€œWhen did he give up his practice?”
    â€œLong time ago now. Must be fifteen years or so. His health broke down, so they say.”
    Giles came out of the window and answered Gwenda’s unspoken question.
    â€œHe’s coming over this afternoon.”
    â€œOh.” She turned once more to Foster. “Did you know Dr. Kennedy’s sister at all?”
    â€œSister? Not as I remember. She was only a bit of a lass. Went away to school, and then abroad, though I heard she come back here for a bit after she married. But I believe she run off with some chap—always wild she was, they said. Don’t know as I ever laid eyes on her myself. I was in a job over to Plymouth for a while, you know.”
    Gwenda said to Giles as they walked to the end of the terrace, “Why is he coming?”
    â€œWe’ll know at three o’clock.”
    Dr. Kennedy arrived punctually. Looking round the drawing room he said: “Seems odd to be here again.”
    Then he came to the point without preamble.
    â€œI take it that you two are quite determined to track down the Sanatorium where Kelvin Halliday died and learn all the details you can about his illness and death?”
    â€œDefinitely,” said Gwenda.
    â€œWell, you can manage that quite easily, of course. So I’ve come to the conclusion that it will be less shock to you to hear the factsfrom me. I’m sorry to have to tell you, for it won’t do you or anybody else a bit of good, and it will probably cause you, Gwennie, a good deal of pain. But there it is. Your father wasn’t suffering from tuberculosis and the Sanatorium in question was a mental home.”
    â€œA mental home? Was he out of his mind, then?”
    Gwenda’s face had gone very white.
    â€œHe was never certified. And in my opinion he was not insane in the general meaning of the term. He had had a very severe nervous breakdown and suffered from certain delusional obsessions. He went into the