The Thirteen Problems Read Free Page A

dear,’ she said. ‘I have dropped another stitch. I have been so interested in the story. A sad case, a very sad case. It reminds me of old Mr Hargraves who lived up at the Mount. His wife never had the least suspicion—until he died, leaving all his money to a woman he had been living with and by whom he had five children. She had at one time been their housemaid. Such a nice girl, Mrs Hargraves always said—thoroughly to be relied upon to turn the mattresses every day—except Fridays, of course. And there was old Hargraves keeping this woman in a house in the neighbouring town and continuing to be a Churchwarden and to hand round the plate every Sunday.’
    ‘My dear Aunt Jane,’ said Raymond with some impatience. ‘What has dead and gone Hargraves got to do with the case?’
    ‘This story made me think of him at once,’ saidMiss Marple. ‘The facts are so very alike, aren’t they? I suppose the poor girl has confessed now and that is how you know, Sir Henry.’
    ‘What girl?’ said Raymond. ‘My dear Aunt, what are you talking about?’
    ‘That poor girl, Gladys Linch, of course—the one who was so terribly agitated when the doctor spoke to her—and well she might be, poor thing. I hope that wicked Jones is hanged, I am sure, making that poor girl a murderess. I suppose they will hang her too, poor thing.’
    ‘I think, Miss Marple, that you are under a slight misapprehension,’ began Mr Petherick.
    But Miss Marple shook her head obstinately and looked across at Sir Henry.
    ‘I am right, am I not? It seems so clear to me. The hundreds and thousands—and the trifle—I mean, one cannot miss it.’
    ‘What about the trifle and the hundreds and thousands?’ cried Raymond.
    His aunt turned to him.
    ‘Cooks nearly always put hundreds and thousands on trifle, dear,’ she said. ‘Those little pink and white sugar things. Of course when I heard that they had trifle for supper and that the husband had been writing to someone about hundreds and thousands, I naturally connected the two things together. That is where thearsenic was—in the hundreds and thousands. He left it with the girl and told her to put it on the trifle.’
    ‘But that is impossible,’ said Joyce quickly. ‘They all ate the trifle.’
    ‘Oh, no,’ said Miss Marple. ‘The companion was banting, you remember. You never eat anything like trifle if you are banting; and I expect Jones just scraped the hundreds and thousands off his share and left them at the side of his plate. It was a clever idea, but a very wicked one.’
    The eyes of the others were all fixed upon Sir Henry.
    ‘It is a very curious thing,’ he said slowly, ‘but Miss Marple happens to have hit upon the truth. Jones had got Gladys Linch into trouble, as the saying goes. She was nearly desperate. He wanted his wife out of the way and promised to marry Gladys when his wife was dead. He doctored the hundreds and thousands and gave them to her with instructions how to use them. Gladys Linch died a week ago. Her child died at birth and Jones had deserted her for another woman. When she was dying she confessed the truth.’
    There was a few moments’ silence and then Raymond said:
    ‘Well, Aunt Jane, this is one up to you. I can’t think how on earth you managed to hit upon the truth. Ishould never have thought of the little maid in the kitchen being connected with the case.’
    ‘No, dear,’ said Miss Marple, ‘but you don’t know as much of life as I do. A man of that Jones’s type—coarse and jovial. As soon as I heard there was a pretty young girl in the house I felt sure that he would not have left her alone. It is all very distressing and painful, and not a very nice thing to talk about. I can’t tell you the shock it was to Mrs Hargraves, and a nine days’ wonder in the village.’

Chapter 2
The Idol House of Astarte
    ‘And now, Dr Pender, what are you going to tell us?’
    The old clergyman smiled gently.
    ‘My life has been passed in quiet