Read Online The Marshal and the Madwoman by Magdalen Nabb - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Magdalen Nabb
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there to listen in.
'Clementina didn't commit suicide. I'm sure of that.'
'There! It's what you said, Franco.'
'The Marshal knows I know. I told him.'
'I must say, though,' pointed out the Marshal, 'that I can't begin to imagine how you found out. You didn't even look at her.'
'There was no need to. As soon as Pippo said he'd found her with her head in the oven I knew. There wasn't enough gas in that canister to kill a sparrow. I checked it myself yesterday. She was forever running out of gas. They're not that keen on delivering just one and she sometimes hadn't the cash for two. She was pestering me yesterday when we were up to our eyes in work getting ready for the party. She thought I might have a spare canister but I didn't, and with the two-day holiday coming up she thought she was going to be without. I managed to find time to go up and check and I told her she'd enough to make her coffee and that she'd be eating here that evening and I'd see she got some leftovers or something tonight. They'll be open tomorrow so I was sure she'd manage. No great mystery, you see. Even she wasn't crazy enough to try and gas herself without gas.'
'No. Well, there it is. The fact that she was left with her head in the oven like that can only mean that somebody wanted us to think it was suicide.'
'Oh, Franco, just imagine.'
'How did they do for her, then.'
'I don't know. There'll be an autopsy. Now. . .' He turned his gaze on to them, one by one, 'You were right in thinking it had better not get about. I've told you two, not just because you already suspected something but because I think you can help, and I don't want anybody else round here to find out.'
'You surely don't think that anybody round here—'
'No,' the Marshal reassured Franco, 'I don't think anything of the sort. But if people get to know, the papers will get to know and so on. I prefer to let whoever did it think he's pulled the wool over our eyes. It's the only advantage we have over him at this point.'
Franco mulled this over for a few minutes, his shiny head bobbing gently as he thought. Pina watched him, sipping her tea daintily.
'If it's nobody round here,' Franco pointed out, 'I don't see what help we can be to you—not that we're not willing, you follow me, it's just—'
'Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to do anything. Just keep your eyes open. If I start asking questions around here the story will soon be out, but you can chat to your customers, it will be natural enough for everyone to talk about Clementina after what's happened. You might pick something up, anything odd that involved her in the last few weeks, for example.'
'Everything about Clementina was odd,' put in Pina.
'But perhaps some stranger visited her recently.'
'Nobody as far as I know.' Franco's brow was corrugated.
'When did she stop working, do you know that?'
'I can tell you that,' Pina said, 'because it was my birthday. July 15th it was. I offered her a glass of something on the strength of it—she liked a glass when she could get it, and she said "Here's to that bastard and good riddance" and I said "What's this? Have you packed in your job?" To tell the truth, I thought it more likely that she'd got the sack, probably cracked the boss with her sweeping brush, but I didn't say so. Anyhow, all she said was, "I know my rights and what he says isn't true! I won't go!" So what the truth of it was I don't know.'
'I'll find out.'
'I suppose you will, but I don't imagine anyone would— you know—do that . . . because they were having trouble sacking her from a cleaning job. Well, you know more about these things than I do.'
'But you'll be better at keeping a watch on things round here. I'm sure you realize as well as I do that it wouldn't be worth my while putting even a plainclothes man on the job here where everybody knows everybody.'
'He'd stick out like a sore thumb,' Franco agreed. 'I see what you mean and you're right, of course. They did once send a plainclothes
'Clementina didn't commit suicide. I'm sure of that.'
'There! It's what you said, Franco.'
'The Marshal knows I know. I told him.'
'I must say, though,' pointed out the Marshal, 'that I can't begin to imagine how you found out. You didn't even look at her.'
'There was no need to. As soon as Pippo said he'd found her with her head in the oven I knew. There wasn't enough gas in that canister to kill a sparrow. I checked it myself yesterday. She was forever running out of gas. They're not that keen on delivering just one and she sometimes hadn't the cash for two. She was pestering me yesterday when we were up to our eyes in work getting ready for the party. She thought I might have a spare canister but I didn't, and with the two-day holiday coming up she thought she was going to be without. I managed to find time to go up and check and I told her she'd enough to make her coffee and that she'd be eating here that evening and I'd see she got some leftovers or something tonight. They'll be open tomorrow so I was sure she'd manage. No great mystery, you see. Even she wasn't crazy enough to try and gas herself without gas.'
'No. Well, there it is. The fact that she was left with her head in the oven like that can only mean that somebody wanted us to think it was suicide.'
'Oh, Franco, just imagine.'
'How did they do for her, then.'
'I don't know. There'll be an autopsy. Now. . .' He turned his gaze on to them, one by one, 'You were right in thinking it had better not get about. I've told you two, not just because you already suspected something but because I think you can help, and I don't want anybody else round here to find out.'
'You surely don't think that anybody round here—'
'No,' the Marshal reassured Franco, 'I don't think anything of the sort. But if people get to know, the papers will get to know and so on. I prefer to let whoever did it think he's pulled the wool over our eyes. It's the only advantage we have over him at this point.'
Franco mulled this over for a few minutes, his shiny head bobbing gently as he thought. Pina watched him, sipping her tea daintily.
'If it's nobody round here,' Franco pointed out, 'I don't see what help we can be to you—not that we're not willing, you follow me, it's just—'
'Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to do anything. Just keep your eyes open. If I start asking questions around here the story will soon be out, but you can chat to your customers, it will be natural enough for everyone to talk about Clementina after what's happened. You might pick something up, anything odd that involved her in the last few weeks, for example.'
'Everything about Clementina was odd,' put in Pina.
'But perhaps some stranger visited her recently.'
'Nobody as far as I know.' Franco's brow was corrugated.
'When did she stop working, do you know that?'
'I can tell you that,' Pina said, 'because it was my birthday. July 15th it was. I offered her a glass of something on the strength of it—she liked a glass when she could get it, and she said "Here's to that bastard and good riddance" and I said "What's this? Have you packed in your job?" To tell the truth, I thought it more likely that she'd got the sack, probably cracked the boss with her sweeping brush, but I didn't say so. Anyhow, all she said was, "I know my rights and what he says isn't true! I won't go!" So what the truth of it was I don't know.'
'I'll find out.'
'I suppose you will, but I don't imagine anyone would— you know—do that . . . because they were having trouble sacking her from a cleaning job. Well, you know more about these things than I do.'
'But you'll be better at keeping a watch on things round here. I'm sure you realize as well as I do that it wouldn't be worth my while putting even a plainclothes man on the job here where everybody knows everybody.'
'He'd stick out like a sore thumb,' Franco agreed. 'I see what you mean and you're right, of course. They did once send a plainclothes
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