smallhobbit

Title: Not Only Toddlers Have Tantrums
Fandom: Miss Marple
Rating: G
Length: 924 words
Summary: With a suspicious death to investigate, Inspector Slack isn't surprised Miss Marple has been seen in the Post Office.
 

“You’ll never guess who I saw in the Post Office when I went to speak to the postmaster,” Sergeant Lake said.

“Don’t tell me, she was sending a telegram, ‘Know who murderer is.  Will tell you on my return.’,” Inspector Slack muttered.

Lake laughed.  “No, she was buying a stamp to send a birthday card to a niece.  It appears she’s staying with the vicar and his wife.  They’re some sort of distant relative.”

“Of course they are.  That old biddy always has relations in the vicinity whenever there’s a suspicious death.”

“Anyway, she sends you her best regards and said you’d be welcome to call into the vicarage for coffee about 11 o’clock.”

“How very kind of her.”  Slack looked at his watch.  “I think we should take another look at the back of the house.  If the housemaid’s right and she did think someone was outside that evening, there may still be signs.  After which it will be time for coffee.”

Slack and Lake walked carefully around the back of the house, looking for anything which might be significant.

They were about to give up when Lake said, “What’s this?”  He bent down to take a look.  “It’s a cigarette end.  Looks like someone stamped on it to put it out.  I don’t reckon it’s been here for more than a couple of days.”

“So someone did stand out here.  Any chance of a footprint?” Slack said.

“No, but I’d guess it was a man.  And who would stand out here to smoke?  Not one of the staff, surely."

"No, if they wanted a few minutes peace they’d go further away.  And no-one else would stand round here.  It has to be our man.  Right, it’s time to see what words of wisdom Miss Marple has for us.”

They walked to the vicarage and were greeted warmly by Miss Marple.  “We’ll have coffee in the sitting room,” she said.  “We won’t be disturbed there.  Herbert is over at the church, and Amanda has driven into town to run a few errands.  I declined her offer to join her.”

They took their seats and Slack said, “Well, Miss Marple, what do you have to tell us?”

“It’s so very sad, isn’t it?  Hortensia was very pretty, and scarcely more than a child.  But she believed she had a great understanding of people, and that takes much more time and experience than she could possibly have had.  And that, of course, was her undoing.”

“You think she brought it on herself?”

“No, that is too extreme.  But it put her in a situation she wasn’t able to handle.  I knew almost at once who it must have been.”  Here, Slack glanced at Lake, remembering his wording of the telegram.  “But I couldn’t understand why.  It wasn’t until I was in the post office that it came to me.  It wasn’t planned, but whether it was deliberate or accidental I’m not sure.”

Slack wanted to interrupt and demand Miss Marple tell him who the murderer was but had learnt it was best to let her explain in her own way.

“Now, when I was in the Post Office, Mrs Wylie’s little boy wanted some sweets, and she wouldn’t let him have them.  He can only be about three years old, so he did what toddlers do when they don’t get their own way and began to stamp his feet.  Mrs Wylie told him to stop, and having paid for her shopping, took his hand, and led him out, ignoring his tantrum.  I am sure the little boy will grow up to be as well-behaved as his older brother and sister, because he will soon learn that he can’t always have what he wants.”

She took a drink of her coffee and continued, “But Timothy Drysdale is a young man who has been given everything he wanted.  He has come to expect that when he demands something he will receive it.  And he wanted Hortensia to go with him to the dance.  She, however, was playing him along, and I suspect thought she had wound him round her little finger.  We had been invited to the house for tea yesterday, and she was teasing him then.”

“And you think he went back in the evening to ask her for a definite answer, and when she refused to give him one, he killed her?”

“I think it is highly possible.  I cannot prove anything, but I would certainly recommend you check his alibi.”

“He was at choir practice and from there went to the pub with a number of the other choristers.  The publican can confirm he was there until just before closing time,” Slack said.

“I had a word with the publican’s wife this morning,” Lake said.  “The choristers arrived in dribs and drabs.  It seems a number of them called into their homes on the way there, something about taking surplices home to be washed for the service.  The chances of anyone remembering who arrived when is remote.”

“So Drysdale definitely had the opportunity.  I think we should go and have a talk with him.”  Slack stood up.  “Thank you, Miss Marple, you’ve been most helpful.”

The two policemen left the vicarage, and Lake said, “Do you think we’ll have this tied up by lunchtime?”

“No, but we now know where to start looking.  Drysdale won’t make it easy, but if Miss Marple’s assessment of him is correct, and I don’t doubt it is, he may well be over-confident which will help us no end.”