A steady London drizzle fell incessantly upon Miss Marple as she hurried along Praed Street towards Paddington Station. As she bustled towards the great terminus, she made certain that her return ticket was in her handbag, so it could be presented to the ticket inspector at the barrier.
After a days shopping in Oxford Street she was looking forward to her journey back home, where her maid Alice would be ready with dinner and soothing cup of tea.
Five minutes later she located an empty compartment and safely deposited her bags on the seat next to her.
She heard the conductor's whistle and with a jolt the train made its way out from underneath the great overall roof and ventured out into the rain, gaining speed as it moved through the cityscape.
In time London receded and was replaced with the verdant rolling hills of the countryside, as Miss Marple consulted her Bradshaw. The next station was Brackhampton, followed by Kings Melchett, where she would change for the local service to St Mary Mead.
On arrival at the small station she was met by an agitated Alice;
“Thank Goodness you've returned Ma'am, theres been a murder up at Melchett Manor, and His Lordship is anxious for you to hurry there and help with this mystery”
Miss Marple had known Lord Carstairs for many years through their weekly attendance at the St Mary Mead Bridge club.
“Please take these bags home Alice, I will make haste to the manor.”
After a brisk walk uphill to the manor she arrived a little after 6 o'clock, and was met at the door by Juniper, Lord Carstairs butler.
“This way Ma'am His Lordship is awaiting your arrival in the Library with Inspector Bunting from the local constabulary.”
She was shown through to a impressive wooden panelled room, replete with bookshelves filled with leather bound volumes. Huddles together by the desk stood the two men and on her entrance, hurried forth to greet her.
“Jane, thank you for coming over so late, but as you can see”, he pointed to a prone body on the floor, half obscured by the desk; “ there has been a bit of unpleasantness”
Miss Marple raised her eyebrows and stared at the body
“Well I do declare, who would want to murder poor old Robinson, the village chiropodist?”
“ We were rather hoping you would be able to help us”, said the inspector. “ He appears to have been stabbed through the heart with a nail file, and bludgeoned with a large pumice stone”
He pointed to the desk, where Miss Marple spied the body, where indeed a large piece of the light volcanic rock was lying next to the inert figure. A slim silver serrated file could be seen exiting from his chest, a trickle of blood reaching to the rug.
“Are those nail clippings scattered over poor Mr Robinson?” asked Lord Carstairs curiously.
“ I think they are pieces of rough flaky skin” purported the inspector.
Next to the body lay a smashed bottle of Listerine, the contents of which had been liberally poured over the corpse. The final piece of evidence was a leather bound tome, part of His Lordship's anthology of encyclopedias, which has been placed over the feet of the body, open at Page 89.
Miss Marple reached down and inverted the book, allowing all parties present to read what was written in it. It was an entry describing spiritualism.
“ I must confess to being somewhat perplexed” said Lord Carstairs, “Any idea Jane?”
She paused and reflected; “You know this reminds me of Mrs Arbuthnot, the doctors wife, when she went quite mad, due to her backache, and decapitated that cat”
“Please go on” said Superintendent Bunting “Who are we looking for in relation to this murder?”
“The answer gentlemen, is quite simple, given the evidence, I suggest Inspector that you start looking for your murderer as soon as possible”
“But who are we looking for?”
“Why, a super-calloused fragile mystic plagued with halitosis”
Ok, so nothing really medical to report, hence the mad ramblings above, BP very good today 130/80, all good at the North Shore hospital, in and out withing 45 minutes, very good. Had a decent walk on the beach to aerate those legs and heart!
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