Twenty-three
“What made you guess, Jane?”
Miss Marple took her time about replying. She looked thoughtfully at
touched—and the old man with the sweet smile and the thick white hair.
The Bishop took Carrie Louise’s hand in his.
“This has been a great sorrow to you, my poor child, and a great shock.”
“A sorrow, yes, but not really a shock.”
“No,” said Miss Marple. “That’s what I discovered, you know. Everyone
kept saying how Carrie Louise lived in another world from this and was
out of touch with reality. But actually, Carrie Louise, it was reality you
were in touch with, and not the illusion. You are never deceived by illu-
sion like most of us are. When I suddenly realised that, I saw that I must
go by what you thought and felt. You were quite sure that no one would
try to poison you, you couldn’t believe it—and you were quite right not to
believe it, because it wasn’t so! You never believed that Edgar would harm
Lewis—and again you were right. He never would have harmed Lewis.
You were sure that Gina did not love anyone but her husband—and that,
again, was quite true.
“So therefore, if I was to go by you, all the things that seemed to be true
were only illusions. Illusions created for a definite purpose—in the same
ways that conjurers create illusions, to deceive an audience. We were the
audience.
“Alex Restarick got an inkling of the truth first because he had the
chance of seeing things from a different angle—from the outside angle. He
was with the
Inspector4 in the drive, and he looked at the house and real-
ised the possibilities of the windows—and he remembered the sound of
showed him what a very short time things take to what we should imagine
they would take. The constable panted a lot, and later, thinking of a puff-
ing constable, I remembered that Lewis Serrocold was out of breath that
night when he opened the study door. He’d just been running hard, you
see….
“But it was Edgar Lawson that was the
pivot7 of it all to me. There was al-
ways something wrong to me about Edgar Lawson. All the things he said
and did were exactly right for what he was supposed to be, but he himself
wasn’t right. Because he was actually a normal young man playing the
part of a schizophrenic—and he was always, as it were, a little larger than
“It must have all been very carefully planned and thought out. Lewis
must have realised on the occasion of
Christian9’s last visit that something
had aroused his suspicions. And he knew Christian well enough to know
that if he suspected he would not rest until he had satisfied himself that
Carrie Louise stirred.
“Yes,” she said. “Christian was like that. Slow and
painstaking11, but actu-
ally very shrewd. I don’t know what it was aroused his suspicions but he
started investigating—and he found out the truth.”
The Bishop said: “I blame myself for not having been a more conscien-
tious trustee.”
“It was never expected of you to understand finance,” said Carrie
Louise. “That was originally Mr. Gilroy’s province. Then, when he died,
Lewis’ great experience put him in what amounted to complete control.
And that, of course, was what went to his head.”
The pink colour came up in her cheeks.
“Lewis was a great man,” she said. “A man of great vision, and a pas-
sionate believer in what could be accomplished—with money. He didn’t
want it for himself—or, at least, not in the greedy vulgar sense—he did
want the power of it—he wanted the power to do great good with it—”
“He wanted,” said the Bishop, “to be God.” His voice was suddenly stern.
“He forgot that man is only the
humble12 instrument of God’s will.”
“And so he
embezzled13 the Trust funds?” said Miss Marple.
Dr. Galbraith hesitated.
“It wasn’t only that….”
“Tell her,” said Carrie Louise. “She is my oldest friend.”
The Bishop said:
“Lewis Serrocold was what one might call a financial wizard. In his
years of highly technical accountancy, he had amused himself by working
out various methods of swindling which were practically foolproof. This
had been merely an academic study, but when he once began to
envisage14
the possibilities that a vast sum of money could
encompass15, he put these
methods into practice. You see, he had at his disposal some first class ma-
terial. Amongst the boys who passed through here, he chose out a small
select band. They were boys whose
bent16 was naturally criminal, who
loved excitement, and who had a very high order of intelligence. We’ve
not got nearly to the bottom of it all, but it seems clear that this esoteric
circle was secret and
specially17 trained and by and by were placed in key
positions, where, by carrying out Lewis’ directions, books were falsified in
such a way that large sums of money were converted without any suspi-
cion being aroused. I gather that the operations and the
ramifications18 are
But the net result seems to be that under various names and
banking21 ac-
counts and companies, Lewis Serrocold would have been able to dispose
of a
colossal22 sum with which he intended to establish an overseas colony
tually own this territory and administer it. It may have been a fantastic
dream—”
“It was a dream that might have come true,” said Carrie Louise.
“Yes, it might have come true. But the means Lewis Serrocold adopted
were dishonest means, and Christian Gulbrandsen discovered that. He
was very upset, particularly by the realisation of what the discovery and
the probable
prosecution25 of Lewis would mean to you, Carrie Louise.”
“That’s why he asked me if my heart was strong, and seemed so worried
about my health,” said Carrie Louise. “I couldn’t understand it.”
“Then Lewis Serrocold arrived back from the North, and Christian met
him outside the house and told him that he knew what was going on.
Lewis took it calmly, I think. Both men agreed they must do all they could
to spare you. Christian said he would write to me and ask me to come
here, as a co-trustee, to discuss the position.”
“But of course,” said Miss Marple. “Lewis Serrocold had already pre-
pared for this emergency. It was all planned. He had brought the young
man who was to play the part of Edgar Lawson to the house. There was a
real Edgar Lawson—of course—in case the police looked up his record.
This false Edgar knew exactly what he had to do—act the part of a schizo-
phrenic victim of persecution—and give Lewis Serrocold an
alibi26 for a few
vital minutes.
“The next step had been thought out too. Lewis’ story that you, Carrie
Louise, were being slowly poisoned—when one actually came to think of it
there was only Lewis’ story of what Christian had told him—that, and a
few lines added on the typewriter whilst he was waiting for the police. It
was on the spot to prevent you drinking it. The chocolates were just an ad-
ded touch—and of course the original chocolates weren’t poisoned—only
those he substituted before turning them over to Inspector
Curry29.”
“And Alex guessed,” said Carrie Louise.
“Yes—that’s why he collected your nail parings. They would show if ar-
senic actually had been administered over a long period.”
“Poor Alex—poor Ernie.”
There was a moment’s silence as the other two thought of Christian Gul-
brandsen, of Alexis Restarick, and of the boy Ernie—and of how quickly
the act of murder could distort and
deform30.
“But surely,” said the Bishop, “Lewis was taking a big risk in persuading
Edgar to be his accomplice—even if he had some hold over him—”
Carrie shook her head.
“It wasn’t exactly a hold over him. Edgar was
devoted31 to Lewis.”
“Yes,” said Miss Marple. “Like Leonard Wylie and his father. I wonder
perhaps if—”
She paused delicately.
“You saw the
likeness32, I suppose?” said Carrie Louise.
“So you knew that all along?”
“I guessed. I knew Lewis had once had a short infatuation for an actress,
before he met me. He told me about it. It wasn’t serious, she was a golddig-
ging type of woman and she didn’t care for him, but I’ve no doubt at all
that Edgar was actually Lewis’ son….”
“Yes,” said Miss Marple. “That explains everything….”
“And he gave his life for him in the end,” said Carrie Louise. She looked
pleadingly at the Bishop. “He did, you know.”
There was a silence, and then Carrie Louise said:
“I’m glad it ended that way … with his life given in the hope of saving
the boy … people who can be very good can be very bad, too. I always
knew that was true about Lewis … But—he loved me very much—and I
loved him.”
“Did you—ever suspect him?” asked Miss Marple.
“No,” said Carrie Louise. “Because I was puzzled by the poisoning. I
knew Lewis would never poison me, and yet that letter of Christian’s said
definitely that someone was poisoning me—so I thought that everything I
thought I knew about people must be wrong….”
Miss Marple said, “But when Alex and Ernie were found killed. You sus-
pected then?”
“Yes,” said Carrie Louise. “Because I didn’t think anyone else but Lewis
would have dared. And I began to be afraid of what he might do next….”
She shivered slightly.
“I admired Lewis. I admired his—what shall I call it—his goodness? But
I do see that if you’re—good, you have to be humble as well.”
Dr. Galbraith said gently:
“That, Carrie Louise, is what I have always admired in you—your humil-
ity.”
The lovely blue eyes opened wide in surprise.
“But I’m not clever—and not particularly good. I can only admire good-
ness in other people.”
“Dear Carrie Louise,” said Miss Marple.
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