Read Online A Pocket Full of Rye by Agatha Christie - Free Book Online

all over the place. They’ve been seen here, there and everywhere. All this pretending to play golf—or tennis—And I’ve seen things—with my own eyes—in this house. The library door was open and there they were, kissing and canoodling.”
    The venom of the spinster was deadly. Neele really felt it unnecessary to say “Whom do you mean?” but he said it nevertheless.
    â€œWho should I mean? The mistress—and that man. No shame about it, they hadn’t. But if you ask me, the master had got wise to it. Put someone on to watch them, he had. Divorce, that’s what it would have come to. Instead, it’s come to this. ”
    â€œWhen you say this, you mean—”
    â€œYou’ve been asking questions, sir, about what the master ate and drank and who gave it to him. They’re in it together, sir, that’s what I’d say. He got the stuff from somewhere and she gave it to the master, that was the way of it, I’ve no doubt.”
    â€œHave you ever seen any yew berries in the house—or thrown away anywhere?”
    The small eyes glinted curiously.
    â€œYew? Nasty poisonous stuff. Never you touch those berries, my mother said to me when I was a child. Was that what was used, sir?”
    â€œWe don’t know yet what was used.”
    â€œI’ve never seen her fiddling about with yew.” Ellen sounded disappointed. “No, I can’t say I’ve seen anything of that kind.”
    Neele questioned her about the grain found in Fortescue’s pocket but here again he drew a blank.
    â€œNo, sir. I know nothing about that.”
    He went on to further questions, but with no gainful result. Finally he asked if he could see Miss Ramsbottom.
    Ellen looked doubtful.
    â€œI could ask her, but it’s not everyone she’ll see. She’s a very old lady, you know, and she’s a bit odd.”
    The inspector pressed his demand, and rather unwillingly Ellen led him along a passage and up a short flight of stairs to what he thought had probably been designed as a nursery suite.
    He glanced out of a passage window as he followed her and saw Sergeant Hay standing by the yew tree talking to a man who was evidently a gardener.
    Ellen tapped on a door, and when she received an answer, opened it and said:
    â€œThere’s a police gentleman here who would like to speak to you, miss.”
    The answer was apparently in the affirmative for she drew back and motioned Neele to go in.
    The room he entered was almost fantastically overfurnished. The inspector felt rather as though he had taken a step backward into not merely Edwardian but Victorian times. At a table drawn up to a gas fire an old lady was sitting laying out a patience. She wore a maroon-coloured dress and her sparse grey hair was slicked down each side of her face.
    Without looking up or discontinuing her game she said impatiently:
    â€œWell, come in, come in. Sit down if you like.”
    The invitation was not easy to accept as every chair appeared to be covered with tracts or publications of a religious nature.
    As he moved them slightly aside on the sofa Miss Ramsbottom asked sharply:
    â€œInterested in mission work?”
    â€œWell, I’m afraid I’m not very, ma’am.”
    â€œWrong. You should be. That’s where the Christian spirit is nowadays. Darkest Africa. Had a young clergyman here last week. Black as your hat. But a true Christian.”
    Inspector Neele found it a little difficult to know what to say.
    The old lady further disconcerted him by snapping:
    â€œI haven’t got a wireless.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œOh, I thought perhaps you came about a wireless licence. Or one of these silly forms. Well, man, what is it?”
    â€œI’m sorry to have to tell you, Miss Ramsbottom, that your brother-in-law, Mr. Fortescue, was taken suddenly ill and died this morning.”
    Miss Ramsbottom continued with her patience