Complete Short Stories of Miss Marple Read Online Free Page A
completely.
'I told him of my meeting with Inspector Badgworth, in which he was much interested.
''They are a queer people round this coast,' he said reflectively. 'Smuggling and wrecking is in their blood. When a ship goes down on their coast they cannot help regarding it as lawful plunder meant for their pockets. There is a fellow here I should like you to see. He is an interesting survival.'
'Next day dawned bright and clear. I was taken down into Polperran and there introduced to Newman's diver, a man called Higgins. He was a wooden-faced individual, extremely taciturn, and his contributions to the conversation were mostly monosyllables. After a discussion between them on highly technical matters, we adjourned to the Three Anchors. A tankard of beer somewhat loosened the worthy fellow's tongue.
''Detective gentleman from London has come down,' he grunted. 'They do say that that ship that went down here last November was carrying a mortal lot of gold. Well, she wasn't the first to go down, and she won't be the last.'
''Hear, hear,' chimed in the landlord of the Three Anchors. 'That is a true word you say there, Bill Higgins.'
''I reckon it is, Mr. Kelvin,' said Higgins.
'I looked with some curiosity at the landlord. He was a remarkable man, dark and swarthy, with curiously broad shoulders. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a curiously furtive way of avoiding one's glance. I suspected that this was the man of whom Newman had spoken, saying he was an interesting survival.
''We don't want interfering foreigners on this coast,' he said somewhat truculently.
''Meaning the police?' asked Newman, smiling.
''Meaning the police – and others,' said Kelvin significantly. 'And don't you forget it, mister.'
''Do you know, Newman, that sounded to me very like a threat,' I said as we climbed the hill homewards.
'My friend laughed.
''Nonsense; I don't do the folk down here any harm.'
'I shook my head doubtfully. There was something sinister and uncivilized about Kelvin. I felt that his mind might run in strange, unrecognized channels.
'I think I date the beginning of my uneasiness from that moment. I had slept well enough that first night, but the next night my sleep was troubled and broken. Sunday dawned, dark and sullen, with an overcast sky and the threatenings of thunder in the air. I am always a bad hand at hiding my feelings, and Newman noticed the change in me.
''What is the matter with you, West? You are a bundle of nerves this morning.'
''I don't know,' I confessed, 'but I have got a horrible feeling of foreboding.'
''It's the weather.'
''Yes, perhaps.'
'I said no more. In the afternoon we went out in Newman's motor boat, but the rain came on with such vigour that we were glad to return to shore and change into dry clothing.
'And that evening my uneasiness increased. Outside the storm howled and roared. Towards ten o'clock the tempest calmed down. Newman looked out the window.
''It is clearing,' he said. 'I shouldn't wonder if it was a perfectly fine night in another half-hour. If so, I shall go out for a stroll.'
'I yawned. 'I am frightfully sleepy,' I said. 'I didn't get much sleep last night. I think that tonight I shall turn in early.'
'This I did. On the previous night I had slept little. Tonight I slept heavily. Yet my slumbers were not restful. I was still oppressed with an awful foreboding of evil. I waked to find the hands of my clock pointing to eight o'clock. My head was aching badly, and the terror of my night's dreams was still upon me.
'So strongly was this so that when I went to the window and drew it up, I started back with a fresh feeling of terror, for the first thing I saw, or thought I saw, was a man digging an open grave.
'It took me a minute or two to pull myself together; then I realized that the grave-digger was Newman's gardener, and the 'grave' was destined to accommodate three new rose trees which were lying on the turf waiting for the moment they should be securely planted
'I told him of my meeting with Inspector Badgworth, in which he was much interested.
''They are a queer people round this coast,' he said reflectively. 'Smuggling and wrecking is in their blood. When a ship goes down on their coast they cannot help regarding it as lawful plunder meant for their pockets. There is a fellow here I should like you to see. He is an interesting survival.'
'Next day dawned bright and clear. I was taken down into Polperran and there introduced to Newman's diver, a man called Higgins. He was a wooden-faced individual, extremely taciturn, and his contributions to the conversation were mostly monosyllables. After a discussion between them on highly technical matters, we adjourned to the Three Anchors. A tankard of beer somewhat loosened the worthy fellow's tongue.
''Detective gentleman from London has come down,' he grunted. 'They do say that that ship that went down here last November was carrying a mortal lot of gold. Well, she wasn't the first to go down, and she won't be the last.'
''Hear, hear,' chimed in the landlord of the Three Anchors. 'That is a true word you say there, Bill Higgins.'
''I reckon it is, Mr. Kelvin,' said Higgins.
'I looked with some curiosity at the landlord. He was a remarkable man, dark and swarthy, with curiously broad shoulders. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had a curiously furtive way of avoiding one's glance. I suspected that this was the man of whom Newman had spoken, saying he was an interesting survival.
''We don't want interfering foreigners on this coast,' he said somewhat truculently.
''Meaning the police?' asked Newman, smiling.
''Meaning the police – and others,' said Kelvin significantly. 'And don't you forget it, mister.'
''Do you know, Newman, that sounded to me very like a threat,' I said as we climbed the hill homewards.
'My friend laughed.
''Nonsense; I don't do the folk down here any harm.'
'I shook my head doubtfully. There was something sinister and uncivilized about Kelvin. I felt that his mind might run in strange, unrecognized channels.
'I think I date the beginning of my uneasiness from that moment. I had slept well enough that first night, but the next night my sleep was troubled and broken. Sunday dawned, dark and sullen, with an overcast sky and the threatenings of thunder in the air. I am always a bad hand at hiding my feelings, and Newman noticed the change in me.
''What is the matter with you, West? You are a bundle of nerves this morning.'
''I don't know,' I confessed, 'but I have got a horrible feeling of foreboding.'
''It's the weather.'
''Yes, perhaps.'
'I said no more. In the afternoon we went out in Newman's motor boat, but the rain came on with such vigour that we were glad to return to shore and change into dry clothing.
'And that evening my uneasiness increased. Outside the storm howled and roared. Towards ten o'clock the tempest calmed down. Newman looked out the window.
''It is clearing,' he said. 'I shouldn't wonder if it was a perfectly fine night in another half-hour. If so, I shall go out for a stroll.'
'I yawned. 'I am frightfully sleepy,' I said. 'I didn't get much sleep last night. I think that tonight I shall turn in early.'
'This I did. On the previous night I had slept little. Tonight I slept heavily. Yet my slumbers were not restful. I was still oppressed with an awful foreboding of evil. I waked to find the hands of my clock pointing to eight o'clock. My head was aching badly, and the terror of my night's dreams was still upon me.
'So strongly was this so that when I went to the window and drew it up, I started back with a fresh feeling of terror, for the first thing I saw, or thought I saw, was a man digging an open grave.
'It took me a minute or two to pull myself together; then I realized that the grave-digger was Newman's gardener, and the 'grave' was destined to accommodate three new rose trees which were lying on the turf waiting for the moment they should be securely planted
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