{"id":2377,"date":"2026-01-03T22:26:15","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:26:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/miss-marples-final-cases-and-two-other-stories-christie-agatha\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T22:26:15","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T22:26:15","slug":"miss-marples-final-cases-and-two-other-stories-christie-agatha","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/miss-marples-final-cases-and-two-other-stories-christie-agatha\/","title":{"rendered":"Miss Marple’s Final Cases: And Two Other Stories – Christie, Agatha"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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Sanctuary<\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n
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I<\/h3>\n

The vicar\u2019s wife came round the corner of the vicarage with her arms full of chrysanthemums. A good deal of rich garden soil was attached to her strong brogue shoes and a few fragments of earth were adhering to her nose, but of that fact she was perfectly unconscious.<\/p>\n

She had a slight struggle in opening the vicarage gate which hung, rustily, half off its hinges. A puff of wind caught at her battered felt hat, causing it to sit even more rakishly than it had done before. \u2018Bother!\u2019 said Bunch.<\/p>\n

Christened by her optimistic parents Diana, Mrs Harmon had become Bunch at an early age for somewhat obvious reasons and the name had stuck to her ever since. Clutching the chrysanthemums, she made her way through the gate to the churchyard, and so to the church door.<\/p>\n

The November air was mild and damp. Clouds scudded across the sky with patches of blue here and there. Inside, the church was dark and cold; it was unheated except at service times.<\/p>\n

\u2018Brrrrrh!\u2019 said Bunch expressively. \u2018I\u2019d better get on with this quickly. I don\u2019t want to die of cold.\u2019<\/p>\n

With the quickness born of practice she collected the necessary paraphernalia: vases, water, flower-holders. \u2018I wish we had lilies,\u2019 thought Bunch to herself. \u2018I get so tired of these scraggy chrysanthemums.\u2019 Her nimble fingers arranged the blooms in their holders.<\/p>\n

There was nothing particularly original or artistic about the decorations, for Bunch Harmon herself was neither original nor artistic, but it was a homely and pleasant arrangement. Carrying the vases carefully, Bunch stepped up the aisle and made her way towards the altar. As she did so the sun came out.<\/p>\n

It shone through the east window of somewhat crude coloured glass, mostly blue and red\u2014the gift of a wealthy Victorian churchgoer. The effect was almost startling in its sudden opulence. \u2018Like jewels,\u2019 thought Bunch. Suddenly she stopped, staring ahead of her. On the chancel steps was a huddled dark form.<\/p>\n

Putting down the flowers carefully, Bunch went up to it and bent over it. It was a man lying there, huddled over on himself. Bunch knelt down by him and slowly, carefully, she turned him over. Her fingers went to his pulse\u2014a pulse so feeble and fluttering that it told its own story, as did the almost greenish pallor of his face. There was no doubt, Bunch thought, that the man was dying.<\/p>\n

He was a man of about forty-five, dressed in a dark, shabby suit. She laid down the limp hand she had picked up and looked at his other hand. This seemed clenched like a fist on his breast. Looking more closely she saw that the fingers were closed over what seemed to be a large wad or handkerchief which he was holding tightly to his chest. All round the clenched hand there were splashes of a dry brown fluid which, Bunch guessed, was dry blood. Bunch sat back on her heels, frowning.<\/p>\n

Up till now the man\u2019s eyes had been closed but at this point they suddenly opened and fixed themselves on Bunch\u2019s face. They were neither dazed nor wandering. They seemed fully alive and intelligent. His lips moved, and Bunch bent forward to catch the words, or rather the word. It was only one word that he said:<\/p>\n

\u2018Sanctuary.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

There was, she thought, just a very faint smile as he breathed out this word. There was no mistaking it, for after a moment he said it again, \u2018Sanctuary\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n

Then, with a faint, long-drawn-out sigh, his eyes closed again. Once more Bunch\u2019s fingers went to his pulse. It was still there, but fainter now and more intermittent. She got up with decision.<\/p>\n

\u2018Don\u2019t move,\u2019 she said, \u2018or try to move. I\u2019m going for help.\u2019<\/p>\n

The man\u2019s eyes opened again but he seemed now to be fixing his attention on the coloured light that came through the east window. He murmured something that Bunch could not quite catch. She thought, startled, that it might have been her husband\u2019s name.<\/p>\n

\u2018Julian?\u2019 she said. \u2018Did you come here to find Julian?\u2019 But there was no answer. The man lay with eyes closed, his breathing coming in slow, shallow fashion.<\/p>\n

Bunch turned and left the church rapidly. She glanced at her watch and nodded with some satisfaction. Dr Griffiths would still be in his surgery. It was only a couple of minutes\u2019 walk from the church. She went in, without waiting to knock or ring, passing through the waiting room and into the doctor\u2019s surgery.<\/p>\n

\u2018You must come at once,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018There\u2019s a man dying in the church.\u2019<\/p>\n

Some minutes later Dr Griffiths rose from his knees after a brief examination.<\/p>\n

\u2018Can we move him from here into the vicarage? I can attend to him better there\u2014not that it\u2019s any use.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Of course,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018I\u2019ll go along and get things ready. I\u2019ll get Harper and Jones, shall I? To help you carry him.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Thanks. I can telephone from the vicarage for an ambulance, but I\u2019m afraid\u2014by the time it comes\u2026\u2019 He left the remark unfinished.<\/p>\n

Bunch said, \u2018Internal bleeding?\u2019<\/p>\n

Dr Griffiths nodded. He said, \u2018How on earth did he come here?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I think he must have been here all night,\u2019 said Bunch, considering. \u2018Harper unlocks the church in the morning as he goes to work, but he doesn\u2019t usually come in.\u2019<\/p>\n

It was about five minutes later when Dr Griffiths put down the telephone receiver and came back into the morning-room where the injured man was lying on quickly arranged blankets on the sofa. Bunch was moving a basin of water and clearing up after the doctor\u2019s examination.<\/p>\n

\u2018Well, that\u2019s that,\u2019 said Griffiths. \u2018I\u2019ve sent for an ambulance and I\u2019ve notified the police.\u2019 He stood, frowning, looking down on the patient who lay with closed eyes. His left hand was plucking in a nervous, spasmodic way at his side.<\/p>\n

\u2018He was shot,\u2019 said Griffiths. \u2018Shot at fairly close quarters. He rolled his handkerchief up into a ball and plugged the wound with it so as to stop the bleeding.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Could he have gone far after that happened?\u2019 Bunch asked.<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh, yes, it\u2019s quite possible. A mortally wounded man has been known to pick himself up and walk along a street as though nothing had happened, and then suddenly collapse five or ten minutes later. So he needn\u2019t have been shot in the church. Oh no. He may have been shot some distance away. Of course, he may have shot himself and then dropped the revolver and staggered blindly towards the church. I don\u2019t quite know why he made for the church and not for the vicarage.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh, I know that<\/span>,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018He said it: \u201cSanctuary.\u201d \u2019<\/p>\n

The doctor stared at her. \u2018Sanctuary?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Here\u2019s Julian,\u2019 said Bunch, turning her head as she heard her husband\u2019s steps in the hall. \u2018Julian! Come here.\u2019<\/p>\n

The Reverend Julian Harmon entered the room. His vague, scholarly manner always made him appear much older than he really was. \u2018Dear me!\u2019 said Julian Harmon, staring in a mild, puzzled manner at the surgical appliances and the prone figure on the sofa.<\/p>\n

Bunch explained with her usual economy of words. \u2018He was in the church, dying. He\u2019d been shot. Do you know him, Julian? I thought he said your name.\u2019<\/p>\n

The vicar came up to the sofa and looked down at the dying man. \u2018Poor fellow,\u2019 he said, and shook his head. \u2018No, I don\u2019t know him. I\u2019m almost sure I\u2019ve never seen him before.\u2019<\/p>\n

At that moment the dying man\u2019s eyes opened once more. They went from the doctor to Julian Harmon and from him to his wife. The eyes stayed there, staring into Bunch\u2019s face. Griffiths stepped forward.<\/p>\n

\u2018If you could tell us,\u2019 he said urgently.<\/p>\n

But with eyes fixed on Bunch, the man said in a weak voice, \u2018Please\u2014please<\/span>\u2014\u2019 And then, with a slight tremor, he died\u2026<\/p>\n

Sergeant Hayes licked his pencil and turned the page of his notebook.<\/p>\n

\u2018So that\u2019s all you can tell me, Mrs Harmon?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s all,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018These are the things out of his coat pockets.\u2019<\/p>\n

On a table at Sergeant Hayes\u2019s elbow was a wallet, a rather battered old watch with the initials W.S. and the return half of a ticket to London. Nothing more.<\/p>\n

\u2018You\u2019ve found out who he is?\u2019 asked Bunch.<\/p>\n

\u2018A Mr and Mrs Eccles phoned up the station. He\u2019s her brother, it seems. Name of Sandbourne. Been in a low state of health and nerves for some time. He\u2019s been getting worse lately. The day before yesterday he walked out and didn\u2019t come back. He took a revolver with him.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018And he came out here and shot himself with it?\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018Why?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Well, you see, he\u2019d been depressed\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch interrupted him. \u2018I don\u2019t mean that<\/span>. I mean, why here?\u2019<\/p>\n

Since Sergeant Hayes obviously did not know the answer to that one, he replied in an oblique fashion, \u2018Come out here, he did, on the five-ten bus.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Bunch again. \u2018But why<\/span>?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I don\u2019t know, Mrs Harmon,\u2019 said Sergeant Hayes. \u2018There\u2019s no accounting. If the balance of the mind is disturbed\u2014\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch finished for him. \u2018They may do it anywhere. But it still seems to me unnecessary to take a bus out to a small country place like this. He didn\u2019t know anyone here, did he?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Not so far as can be ascertained,\u2019 said Sergeant Hayes. He coughed in an apologetic manner and said, as he rose to his feet, \u2018It may be as Mr and Mrs Eccles will come out and see you, ma\u2019am\u2014if you don\u2019t mind, that is.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Of course I don\u2019t mind,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018It\u2019s very natural. I only wish I had something to tell them.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019ll be getting along,\u2019 said Sergeant Hayes.<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m only so thankful,\u2019 said Bunch, going with him to the front door, \u2018that it wasn\u2019t murder.\u2019<\/p>\n

A car had driven up at the vicarage gate. Sergeant Hayes, glancing at it, remarked: \u2018Looks as though that\u2019s Mr and Mrs Eccles come here now, ma\u2019am, to talk with you.\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch braced herself to endure what, she felt, might be rather a difficult ordeal. \u2018However,\u2019 she thought, \u2018I can always call Julian to help me. A clergyman\u2019s a great help when people are bereaved.\u2019<\/p>\n

Exactly what she had expected Mr and Mrs Eccles to be like, Bunch could not have said, but she was conscious, as she greeted them, of a feeling of surprise. Mr Eccles was a stout florid man whose natural manner would have been cheerful and facetious. Mrs Eccles had a vaguely flashy look about her. She had a small, mean, pursed-up mouth. Her voice was thin and reedy.<\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s been a terrible shock, Mrs Harmon, as you can imagine,\u2019 she said.<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh, I know,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018It must have been. Do sit down. Can I offer you\u2014well, perhaps it\u2019s a little early for tea\u2014\u2019<\/p>\n

Mr Eccles waved a pudgy hand. \u2018No, no, nothing for us,\u2019 he said. \u2018It\u2019s very kind of you, I\u2019m sure. Just wanted to\u2026well\u2026what poor William said and all that, you know?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018He\u2019s been abroad a long time,\u2019 said Mrs Eccles, \u2018and I think he must have had some very nasty experiences. Very quiet and depressed he\u2019s been, ever since he came home. Said the world wasn\u2019t fit to live in and there was nothing to look forward to. Poor Bill, he was always moody.\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch stared at them both for a moment or two without speaking.<\/p>\n

\u2018Pinched my husband\u2019s revolver, he did,\u2019 went on Mrs Eccles. \u2018Without our knowing. Then it seems he come here by bus. I suppose that was nice feeling on his part. He wouldn\u2019t have liked to do it in our house.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Poor fellow, poor fellow,\u2019 said Mr Eccles, with a sigh. \u2018It doesn\u2019t do to judge.\u2019<\/p>\n

There was another short pause, and Mr Eccles said, \u2018Did he leave a message? Any last words, nothing like that?\u2019<\/p>\n

His bright, rather pig-like eyes watched Bunch closely. Mrs Eccles, too, leaned forward as though anxious for the reply.<\/p>\n

\u2018No,\u2019 said Bunch quietly. \u2018He came into the church when he was dying, for sanctuary.\u2019<\/p>\n

Mrs Eccles said in a puzzled voice. \u2018Sanctuary? I don\u2019t think I quite\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n

Mr Eccles interrupted. \u2018Holy place, my dear,\u2019 he said impatiently. \u2018That\u2019s what the vicar\u2019s wife means. It\u2019s a sin\u2014suicide, you know. I expect he wanted to make amends.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018He tried to say something just before he died,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018He began, \u201cPlease,\u201d but that\u2019s as far as he got.\u2019<\/p>\n

Mrs Eccles put her handkerchief to her eyes and sniffed. \u2018Oh, dear,\u2019 she said. \u2018It\u2019s terribly upsetting, isn\u2019t it?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018There, there, Pam,\u2019 said her husband. \u2018Don\u2019t take on. These things can\u2019t be helped. Poor Willie. Still, he\u2019s at peace now. Well, thank you very much, Mrs Harmon. I hope we haven\u2019t interrupted you. A vicar\u2019s wife is a busy lady, we know that.\u2019<\/p>\n

They shook hands with her. Then Eccles turned back suddenly to say, \u2018Oh yes, there\u2019s just one other thing. I think you\u2019ve got his coat here, haven\u2019t you?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018His coat?\u2019 Bunch frowned.<\/p>\n

Mrs Eccles said, \u2018We\u2019d like all his things, you know. Sentimental-like.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018He had a watch and a wallet and a railway ticket in the pockets,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018I gave them to Sergeant Hayes.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s all right, then,\u2019 said Mr Eccles. \u2018He\u2019ll hand them over to us, I expect. His private papers would be in the wallet.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018There was a pound note in the wallet,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018Nothing else.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018No letters? Nothing like that?\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch shook her head.<\/p>\n

\u2018Well, thank you again, Mrs Harmon. The coat he was wearing\u2014perhaps the sergeant\u2019s got that too, has he?\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch frowned in an effort of remembrance.<\/p>\n

\u2018No,\u2019 she said. \u2018I don\u2019t think\u2026let me see. The doctor and I took his coat off to examine his wound.\u2019 She looked round the room vaguely. \u2018I must have taken it upstairs with the towels and basin.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I wonder now, Mrs Harmon, if you don\u2019t mind\u2026We\u2019d like his coat, you know, the last thing he wore. Well, the wife feels rather sentimental about it.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Of course,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018Would you like me to have it cleaned first? I\u2019m afraid it\u2019s rather\u2014well\u2014stained.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh, no, no, no, that doesn\u2019t matter.\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch frowned. \u2018Now I wonder where\u2026excuse me a moment.\u2019 She went upstairs and it was some few minutes before she returned.<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m so sorry,\u2019 she said breathlessly, \u2018my daily woman must have put it aside with other clothes that were going to the cleaners. It\u2019s taken me quite a long time to find it. Here it is. I\u2019ll do it up for you in brown paper.\u2019<\/p>\n

Disclaiming their protests she did so; then once more effusively bidding her farewell the Eccleses departed.<\/p>\n

Bunch went slowly back across the hall and entered the study. The Reverend Julian Harmon looked up and his brow cleared. He was composing a sermon and was fearing that he\u2019d been led astray by the interest of the political relations between Judaea and Persia, in the reign of Cyrus.<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes, dear?\u2019 he said hopefully.<\/p>\n

\u2018Julian,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018What\u2019s Sanctuary<\/span> exactly?\u2019<\/p>\n

Julian Harmon gratefully put aside his sermon paper.<\/p>\n

\u2018Well,\u2019 he said. \u2018Sanctuary in Roman and Greek temples applied to the cella<\/span> in which stood the statue of a god. The Latin word for altar \u201cara<\/span>\u201d also means protection.\u2019 He continued learnedly: \u2018In three hundred and ninety-nine A.D. the right of sanctuary in Christian churches was finally and definitely recognized. The earliest mention of the right of sanctuary in England is in the Code of Laws issued by Ethelbert in A.D. six hundred\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n

He continued for some time with his exposition but was, as often, disconcerted by his wife\u2019s reception of his erudite pronouncement.<\/p>\n

\u2018Darling,\u2019 she said. \u2018You are<\/span> sweet.\u2019<\/p>\n

Bending over, she kissed him on the tip of his nose. Julian felt rather like a dog who has been congratulated on performing a clever trick.<\/p>\n

\u2018The Eccleses have been here,\u2019 said Bunch.<\/p>\n

The vicar frowned. \u2018The Eccleses? I don\u2019t seem to remember\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018You don\u2019t know them. They\u2019re the sister and her husband of the man in the church.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018My dear, you ought to have called me.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018There wasn\u2019t any need,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018They were not in need of consolation. I wonder now\u2026\u2019 She frowned. \u2018If I put a casserole in the oven tomorrow, can you manage, Julian? I think I shall go up to London for the sales.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018The sails?\u2019 Her husband looked at her blankly. \u2018Do you mean a yacht or a boat or something?\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch laughed. \u2018No, darling. There\u2019s a special white sale at Burrows and Portman\u2019s. You know, sheets, table cloths and towels and glass-cloths. I don\u2019t know what we do with our glass-cloths, the way they wear through. Besides,\u2019 she added thoughtfully, \u2018I think I ought to go and see Aunt Jane.\u2019<\/p>\n

II<\/h3>\n

That sweet old lady, Miss Jane Marple, was enjoying the delights of the metropolis for a fortnight, comfortably installed in her nephew\u2019s studio flat.<\/p>\n

\u2018So kind of dear Raymond,\u2019 she murmured. \u2018He and Joan have gone to America for a fortnight and they insisted I should come up here and enjoy myself. And now, dear Bunch, do tell me what it is that\u2019s worrying you.\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch was Miss Marple\u2019s favourite godchild, and the old lady looked at her with great affection as Bunch, thrusting her best felt hat farther on the back of her head, started her story.<\/p>\n

Bunch\u2019s recital was concise and clear. Miss Marple nodded her head as Bunch finished. \u2018I see,\u2019 she said. \u2018Yes, I see.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s why I felt I had to see you,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018You see, not being clever\u2014\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018But you are<\/span> clever, my dear.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018No, I\u2019m not. Not clever like Julian.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Julian, of course, has a very solid intellect,\u2019 said Miss Marple.<\/p>\n

\u2018That\u2019s it,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018Julian\u2019s got the intellect, but on the other hand, I\u2019ve got the sense<\/span>.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018You have a lot of common sense, Bunch, and you\u2019re very intelligent.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018You see, I don\u2019t really know what I ought to do. I can\u2019t ask Julian because\u2014well, I mean, Julian\u2019s so full of rectitude\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n

This statement appeared to be perfectly understood by Miss Marple, who said, \u2018I know what you mean, dear. We women\u2014well, it\u2019s different.\u2019 She went on. \u2018You told me what happened, Bunch, but I\u2019d like to know first exactly what you think.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019s all wrong,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018The man who was there in the church, dying, knew all about Sanctuary. He said it just the way Julian would have said it. I mean, he was a well-read, educated man. And if he\u2019d shot himself, he wouldn\u2019t drag himself to a church afterwards and say \u201csanctuary\u201d. Sanctuary means that you\u2019re pursued, and when you get into a church you\u2019re safe. Your pursuers can\u2019t touch you. At one time even the law couldn\u2019t get at you.\u2019<\/p>\n

She looked questioningly at Miss Marple. The latter nodded. Bunch went on, \u2018Those people, the Eccleses, were quite different. Ignorant and coarse. And there\u2019s another thing. That watch\u2014the dead man\u2019s watch. It had the initials W.S. on the back of it. But inside\u2014I opened it\u2014in very small lettering there was \u201cTo Walter from his father\u201d and a date. Walter<\/span>. But the Eccleses kept talking of him as William or Bill.\u2019<\/p>\n

Miss Marple seemed about to speak but Bunch rushed on. \u2018Oh, I know you\u2019re not always called the name you\u2019re baptized by. I mean, I can understand that you might be christened William and called \u201cPorgy\u201d or \u201cCarrots\u201d or something. But your sister wouldn\u2019t call you William or Bill if your name was Walter.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018You mean that she wasn\u2019t his sister?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m quite sure she wasn\u2019t his sister. They were horrid\u2014both of them. They came to the vicarage to get his things and to find out if he\u2019d said anything before he died. When I said he hadn\u2019t I saw it in their faces\u2014relief. I think myself,\u2019 finished Bunch, \u2018it was Eccles who shot him.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Murder?\u2019 said Miss Marple.<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018Murder. That\u2019s why I came to you, darling.\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch\u2019s remark might have seemed incongruous to an ignorant listener, but in certain spheres Miss Marple had a reputation for dealing with murder.<\/p>\n

\u2018He said \u201cplease\u201d to me before he died,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018He wanted me to do something for him. The awful thing is I\u2019ve no idea what.\u2019<\/p>\n

Miss Marple considered for a moment or two, and then pounced on the point that had already occurred to Bunch. \u2018But why was he there at all?\u2019 she asked.<\/p>\n

\u2018You mean,\u2019 said Bunch, \u2018if you wanted sanctuary you might pop into a church anywhere. There\u2019s no need to take a bus that only goes four times a day and come out to a lonely spot like ours for it.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018He must have come there for a purpose,\u2019 Miss Marple thought. \u2018He must have come to see someone. Chipping Cleghorn\u2019s not a big place, Bunch. Surely you must have some idea of who it was he came to see?\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch reviewed the inhabitants of her village in her mind before rather doubtfully shaking her head. \u2018In a way,\u2019 she said, \u2018it could be anybody.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018He never mentioned a name?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018He said Julian, or I thought he said Julian. It might have been Julia, I suppose. As far as I know, there isn\u2019t any Julia living in Chipping Cleghorn.\u2019<\/p>\n

She screwed up her eyes as she thought back to the scene. The man lying there on the chancel steps, the light coming through the window with its jewels of red and blue light.<\/p>\n

\u2018Jewels,\u2019 said Miss Marple thoughtfully.<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019m coming now,\u2019 said Bunch, \u2018to the most important thing of all. The reason why I\u2019ve really come here today. You see, the Eccleses made a great fuss about having his coat. We took it off when the doctor was seeing him. It was an old, shabby sort of coat\u2014there was no reason they should have wanted it. They pretended it was sentimental, but that was nonsense.<\/p>\n

\u2018Anyway, I went up to find it, and as I was just going up the stairs I remembered how he\u2019d made a kind of picking gesture with his hand, as though he was fumbling with the coat. So when I got hold of the coat I looked at it very carefully and I saw that in one place the lining had been sewn up again with a different thread. So I unpicked it and I found a little piece of paper inside. I took it out and I sewed it up again properly with thread that matched. I was careful and I don\u2019t really think that the Eccleses would know I\u2019ve done it. I don\u2019t think<\/span> so, but I can\u2019t be sure. And I took the coat down to them and made some excuse for the delay.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018The piece of paper?\u2019 asked Miss Marple.<\/p>\n

Bunch opened her handbag. \u2018I didn\u2019t show it to Julian,\u2019 she said, \u2018because he would have said that I ought to have given it to the Eccleses. But I thought I\u2019d rather bring it to you instead.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018A cloakroom ticket,\u2019 said Miss Marple, looking at it. \u2018Paddington Station.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018He had a return ticket to Paddington in his pocket,\u2019 said Bunch.<\/p>\n

The eyes of the two women met.<\/p>\n

\u2018This calls for action,\u2019 said Miss Marple briskly. \u2018But it would be advisable, I think, to be careful. Would you have noticed at all, Bunch dear, whether you were followed when you came to London today?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Followed!\u2019 exclaimed Bunch. \u2018You don\u2019t think\u2014\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Well, I think it\u2019s possible<\/span>,\u2019 said Miss Marple. \u2018When anything is possible, I think we ought to take precautions.\u2019 She rose with a brisk movement. \u2018You came up here ostensibly, my dear, to go to the sales. I think the right thing to do, therefore, would be for us to go<\/span> to the sales. But before we set out, we might put one or two little arrangements in hand. I don\u2019t suppose,\u2019 Miss Marple added obscurely, \u2018that I shall need the old speckled tweed with the beaver collar just at present.\u2019<\/p>\n

It was about an hour and a half later that the two ladies, rather the worse for wear and battered in appearance, and both clasping parcels of hardly-won household linen, sat down at a small and sequestered hostelry called the Apple Bough to restore their forces with steak and kidney pudding followed by apple tart and custard.<\/p>\n

\u2018Really a prewar quality face towel,\u2019 gasped Miss Marple, slightly out of breath. \u2018With a J on it, too. So fortunate that Raymond\u2019s wife\u2019s name is Joan. I shall put them aside until I really need them and then they will do for her if I pass on sooner than I expect.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I really did need the glass-cloths,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018And they were very cheap, though not as cheap as the ones that woman with the ginger hair managed to snatch from me.\u2019<\/p>\n

A smart young woman with a lavish application of rouge and lipstick entered the Apple Bough at that moment. After looking around vaguely for a moment or two, she hurried to their table. She laid down an envelope by Miss Marple\u2019s elbow.<\/p>\n

\u2018There you are, miss,\u2019 she said briskly.<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh, thank you, Gladys,\u2019 said Miss Marple. \u2018Thank you very much. So kind of you.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Always pleased to oblige, I\u2019m sure,\u2019 said Gladys. \u2018Ernie always says to me, \u201cEverything what\u2019s good you learned from that Miss Marple of yours that you were in service with,\u201d and I\u2019m sure I\u2019m always glad to oblige you, miss.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Such a dear girl,\u2019 said Miss Marple as Gladys departed again. \u2018Always so willing and so kind.\u2019<\/p>\n

She looked inside the envelope and then passed it on to Bunch. \u2018Now be very careful, dear,\u2019 she said. \u2018By the way, is there still that nice young inspector at Melchester that I remember?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I don\u2019t know,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018I expect so.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Well, if not,\u2019 said Miss Marple thoughtfully. \u2018I can always ring up the Chief Constable. I think<\/span> he would remember me.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Of course he\u2019d remember you,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018Everybody would remember you<\/span>. You\u2019re quite unique.\u2019 She rose.<\/p>\n

Arrived at Paddington, Bunch went to the luggage office and produced the cloakroom ticket. A moment or two later a rather shabby old suitcase was passed across to her, and carrying this she made her way to the platform.<\/p>\n

The journey home was uneventful. Bunch rose as the train approached Chipping Cleghorn and picked up the old suitcase. She had just left her carriage when a man, sprinting along the platform, suddenly seized the suitcase from her hand and rushed off with it.<\/p>\n

\u2018Stop!\u2019 Bunch yelled. \u2018Stop him, stop him. He\u2019s taken my suitcase.\u2019<\/p>\n

The ticket collector who, at this rural station, was a man of somewhat slow processes, had just begun to say, \u2018Now, look here, you can\u2019t do that\u2014\u2019 when a smart blow on the chest pushed him aside, and the man with the suitcase rushed out from the station. He made his way towards a waiting car. Tossing the suitcase in, he was about to climb after it, but before he could move a hand fell on his shoulder, and the voice of Police Constable Abel said, \u2018Now then, what\u2019s all this?\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch arrived, panting, from the station. \u2018He snatched my suitcase. I just got out of the train with it.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Nonsense,\u2019 said the man. \u2018I don\u2019t know what this lady means. It\u2019s my suitcase. I just got out of the train with it.\u2019<\/p>\n

He looked at Bunch with a bovine and impartial stare. Nobody would have guessed that Police Constable Abel and Mrs Harmon spent long half-hours in Police Constable Abel\u2019s off-time discussing the respective merits of manure and bone meal for rose bushes.<\/p>\n

\u2018You say, madam, that this is your suitcase?\u2019 said Police Constable Abel.<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018Definitely.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018And you, sir?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I say this suitcase is mine.\u2019<\/p>\n

The man was tall, dark and well dressed, with a drawling voice and a superior manner. A feminine voice from inside the car said, \u2018Of course it\u2019s your suitcase, Edwin. I don\u2019t know what this woman means.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018We\u2019ll have to get this clear,\u2019 said Police Constable Abel. \u2018If it\u2019s your suitcase, madam, what do you say is inside it?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Clothes,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018A long speckled coat with a beaver collar, two wool jumpers and a pair of shoes.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Well, that\u2019s clear enough,\u2019 said Police Constable Abel. He turned to the other.<\/p>\n

\u2018I am a theatrical costumer,\u2019 said the dark man importantly. \u2018This suitcase contains theatrical properties which I brought down here for an amateur performance.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Right, sir,\u2019 said Police Constable Abel. \u2018Well, we\u2019ll just look inside, shall we, and see? We can go along to the police station, or if you\u2019re in a hurry we\u2019ll take the suitcase back to the station and open it there.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018It\u2019ll suit me,\u2019 said the dark man. \u2018My name is Moss, by the way, Edwin Moss.\u2019<\/p>\n

The police constable, holding the suitcase, went back into the station. \u2018Just taking this into the parcels office, George,\u2019 he said to the ticket collector.<\/p>\n

Police Constable Abel laid the suitcase on the counter of the parcels office and pushed back the clasp. The case was not locked. Bunch and Mr Edwin Moss stood on either side of him, their eyes regarding each other vengefully.<\/p>\n

\u2018Ah!\u2019 said Police Constable Abel, as he pushed up the lid.<\/p>\n

Inside, neatly folded, was a long rather shabby tweed coat with a beaver fur collar. There were also two wool jumpers and a pair of country shoes.<\/p>\n

\u2018Exactly as you say, madam,\u2019 said Police Constable Abel, turning to Bunch.<\/p>\n

Nobody could have said that Mr Edwin Moss under-did things. His dismay and compunction were magnificent.<\/p>\n

\u2018I do apologize,\u2019 he said. \u2018I really do<\/span> apologize. Please believe me, dear lady, when I tell you how very, very sorry I am. Unpardonable\u2014quite unpardonable\u2014my behaviour has been.\u2019 He looked at his watch. \u2018I must rush now. Probably my suitcase has gone on the train.\u2019 Raising his hat once more, he said meltingly to Bunch, \u2018Do, do<\/span> forgive me,\u2019 and rushed hurriedly out of the parcels office.<\/p>\n

\u2018Are you going to let him get away?\u2019 asked Bunch in a conspiratorial whisper to Police Constable Abel.<\/p>\n

The latter slowly closed a bovine eye in a wink.<\/p>\n

\u2018He won\u2019t get too far, ma\u2019am,\u2019 he said. \u2018That\u2019s to say he won\u2019t get far unobserved, if you take my meaning.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh,\u2019 said Bunch, relieved.<\/p>\n

\u2018That old lady\u2019s been on the phone,\u2019 said Police Constable Abel, \u2018the one as was down here a few years ago. Bright she is, isn\u2019t she? But there\u2019s been a lot cooking up all today. Shouldn\u2019t wonder if the inspector or sergeant was out to see you about it tomorrow morning.\u2019<\/p>\n

III<\/h3>\n

It was the inspector who came, the Inspector Craddock whom Miss Marple remembered. He greeted Bunch with a smile as an old friend.<\/p>\n

\u2018Crime in Chipping Cleghorn again,\u2019 he said cheerfully. \u2018You don\u2019t lack for sensation here, do you, Mrs Harmon?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I could do with rather less,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018Have you come to ask me questions or are you going to tell me things for a change?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019ll tell you some things first,\u2019 said the inspector. \u2018To begin with, Mr and Mrs Eccles have been having an eye kept on them for some time. There\u2019s reason to believe they\u2019ve been connected with several robberies in this part of the world. For another thing, although Mrs Eccles has<\/span> a brother called Sandbourne who has recently come back from abroad, the man you found dying in the church yesterday was definitely not Sandbourne.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I knew that he wasn\u2019t,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018His name was Walter, to begin with, not William.\u2019<\/p>\n

The inspector nodded. \u2018His name was Walter St John, and he escaped forty-eight hours ago from Charrington Prison.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Of course,\u2019 said Bunch softly to herself, \u2018he was being hunted down by the law, and he took sanctuary.\u2019 Then she asked, \u2018What had he done?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019ll have to go back rather a long way. It\u2019s a complicated story. Several years ago there was a certain dancer doing turns at the music halls. I don\u2019t expect you\u2019ll have ever heard of her, but she specialized in an Arabian Night turn, \u201cAladdin in the Cave of Jewels\u201d it was called. She wore bits of rhinestone and not much else.<\/p>\n

\u2018She wasn\u2019t much of a dancer, I believe, but she was\u2014well\u2014attractive. Anyway, a certain Asiatic royalty fell for her in a big way. Amongst other things he gave her a very magnificent emerald necklace.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018The historic jewels of a Rajah?\u2019 murmured Bunch ecstatically.<\/p>\n

Inspector Craddock coughed. \u2018Well, a rather more modern version, Mrs Harmon. The affair didn\u2019t last very long, broke up when our potentate\u2019s attention was captured by a certain film star whose demands were not quite so modest.<\/p>\n

\u2018Zobeida, to give the dancer her stage name, hung on to the necklace, and in due course it was stolen. It disappeared from her dressing-room at the theatre, and there was a lingering suspicion in the minds of the authorities that she herself might have engineered its disappearance. Such things have been known as a publicity stunt, or indeed from more dishonest motives.<\/p>\n

\u2018The necklace was never recovered, but during the course of the investigation the attention of the police was drawn to this man, Walter St John. He was a man of education and breeding who had come down in the world, and who was employed as a working jeweller with a rather obscure firm which was suspected of acting as a fence for jewel robberies.<\/p>\n

\u2018There was evidence that this necklace had passed through his hands. It was, however, in connection with the theft of some other jewellery that he was finally brought to trial and convicted and sent to prison. He had not very much longer to serve, so his escape was rather a surprise.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018But why did he come here?\u2019 asked Bunch.<\/p>\n

\u2018We\u2019d like to know that very much, Mrs Harmon. Following up his trial, it seems that he went first to London. He didn\u2019t visit any of his old associates but he visited an elderly woman, a Mrs Jacobs who had formerly been a theatrical dresser. She won\u2019t say a word of what he came for, but according to other lodgers in the house he left carrying a suitcase.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I see,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018He left it in the cloakroom at Paddington and then he came down here.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018By that time,\u2019 said Inspector Craddock, \u2018Eccles and the man who calls himself Edwin Moss were on his trail. They wanted that suitcase. They saw him get on the bus. They must have driven out in a car ahead of him and been waiting for him when he left the bus.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018And he was murdered?\u2019 said Bunch.<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Craddock. \u2018He was shot. It was Eccles\u2019s revolver, but I rather fancy it was Moss who did the shooting. Now, Mrs Harmon, what we want to know is, where is the suitcase that Walter St John actually deposited at Paddington Station?\u2019<\/p>\n

Bunch grinned. \u2018I expect Aunt Jane\u2019s got it by now,\u2019 she said. \u2018Miss Marple, I mean. That was her plan. She sent a former maid of hers with a suitcase packed with her things to the cloakroom at Paddington and we exchanged tickets. I collected her suitcase and brought it down by train. She seemed to expect that an attempt would be made to get it from me.\u2019<\/p>\n

It was Inspector Craddock\u2019s turn to grin. \u2018So she said when she rang up. I\u2019m driving up to London to see her. Do you want to come, too, Mrs Harmon?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Wel-l,\u2019 said Bunch, considering. \u2018Wel-l, as a matter of fact, it\u2019s very fortunate. I had a toothache last night so I really ought to go to London to see the dentist, oughtn\u2019t I?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Definitely,\u2019 said Inspector Craddock\u2026<\/p>\n

Miss Marple looked from Inspector Craddock\u2019s face to the eager face of Bunch Harmon. The suitcase lay on the table. \u2018Of course, I haven\u2019t opened it,\u2019 the old lady said. \u2018I wouldn\u2019t dream of doing such a thing till somebody official arrived. Besides,\u2019 she added, with a demurely mischievous Victorian smile, \u2018it\u2019s locked.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Like to make a guess at what\u2019s inside, Miss Marple?\u2019 asked the inspector.<\/p>\n

\u2018I should imagine, you know,\u2019 said Miss Marple, \u2018that it would be Zobeida\u2019s theatrical costumes. Would you like a chisel, Inspector?\u2019<\/p>\n

The chisel soon did its work. Both women gave a slight gasp as the lid flew up. The sunlight coming through the window lit up what seemed like an inexhaustible treasure of sparkling jewels, red, blue, green, orange.<\/p>\n

\u2018Aladdin\u2019s Cave,\u2019 said Miss Marple. \u2018The flashing jewels the girl wore to dance.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Ah,\u2019 said Inspector Craddock. \u2018Now, what\u2019s so precious about it, do you think, that a man was murdered to get hold of it?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018She was a shrewd girl, I expect,\u2019 said Miss Marple thoughtfully. \u2018She\u2019s dead, isn\u2019t she, Inspector?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes, died three years ago.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018She had this valuable emerald necklace,\u2019 said Miss Marple, musingly. \u2018Had the stones taken out of their setting and fastened here and there on her theatrical costume, where everyone would take them for merely coloured rhinestones. Then she had a replica made of the real necklace, and that, of course, was what was stolen. No wonder it never came on the market. The thief soon discovered the stones were false.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Here is an envelope,\u2019 said Bunch, pulling aside some of the glittering stones.<\/p>\n

Inspector Craddock took it from her and extracted two official-looking papers from it. He read aloud, \u2018 \u201cMarriage Certificate between Walter Edmund St John and Mary Moss.\u201d That was Zobeida\u2019s real name.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018So they were married,\u2019 said Miss Marple. \u2018I see.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018What\u2019s the other?\u2019 asked Bunch.<\/p>\n

\u2018A birth certificate of a daughter, Jewel.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Jewel?\u2019 cried Bunch. \u2018Why, of course. Jewel! Jill!<\/span> That\u2019s it. I see now why he came to Chipping Cleghorn. That\u2019s<\/span> what he was trying to say to me. Jewel. The Mundys, you know. Laburnum Cottage. They look after a little girl for someone. They\u2019re devoted to her. She\u2019s been like their own granddaughter. Yes, I remember now, her name was<\/span> Jewel, only, of course, they call her Jill.<\/p>\n

\u2018Mrs Mundy had a stroke about a week ago, and the old man\u2019s been very ill with pneumonia. They were both going to go to the infirmary. I\u2019ve been trying hard to find a good home for Jill somewhere. I didn\u2019t want her taken away to an institution.<\/p>\n

\u2018I suppose her father heard about it in prison and he managed to break away and get hold of this suitcase from the old dresser he or his wife left it with. I suppose if the jewels really belonged to her mother, they can be used for the child now.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018I should imagine so, Mrs Harmon. If<\/span> they\u2019re here.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Oh, they\u2019ll be here all right,\u2019 said Miss Marple cheerfully\u2026<\/p>\n

IV<\/h3>\n

\u2018Thank goodness you\u2019re back, dear,\u2019 said the Reverend Julian Harmon, greeting his wife with affection and a sigh of content. \u2018Mrs Burt always tries to do her best when you\u2019re away, but she really gave me some very<\/span> peculiar fish-cakes for lunch. I didn\u2019t want to hurt her feelings so I gave them to Tiglath Pileser, but even he<\/span> wouldn\u2019t eat them so I had to throw them out of the window.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Tiglath Pileser,\u2019 said Bunch, stroking the vicarage cat, who was purring against her knee, \u2018is very<\/span> particular about what fish he eats. I often tell him he\u2019s got a proud stomach!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018And your tooth, dear? Did you have it seen to?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Bunch. \u2018It didn\u2019t hurt much, and I went to see Aunt Jane again, too\u2026\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Dear old thing,\u2019 said Julian. \u2018I hope she\u2019s not failing at all.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Not in the least,\u2019 said Bunch, with a grin.<\/p>\n

The following morning Bunch took a fresh supply of chrysanthemums to the church. The sun was once more pouring through the east window, and Bunch stood in the jewelled light on the chancel steps. She said very softly under her breath, \u2018Your little girl will be all right. I\u2019ll<\/span> see that she is. I promise.\u2019<\/p>\n

Then she tidied up the church, slipped into a pew and knelt for a few moments to say her prayers before returning to the vicarage to attack the piled-up chores of two neglected days.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n

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Book Preview Sanctuary I The vicar\u2019s wife came round the corner of the vicarage with her arms full of chrysanthemums. A good deal of rich garden soil was attached to her strong brogue shoes and a few fragments of earth were adhering to her nose, but of that fact she was perfectly unconscious. She had … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2376,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[142],"class_list":["post-2377","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-agatha-christie"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2377","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2377"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2377\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2376"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2377"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2377"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2377"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}