"A very sound idea," said Professor Wanstead. "As I have told you," continued the Professor, "Fallowfield is situated not very far from here. Sixteen miles, I think. This is Elizabeth Temple's part of the world, a part she knows well with people in it that she also might know well."
"Yes. It widens the possibilities," said Miss Marple. "I agree with you," she said presently, "that the attacker is more likely to have been a man than a woman. That boulder, if it was done with intent, was sent on its course very accurately. Accuracy is more a male quality than a female one. On the other hand there might easily have been someone on our coach, or possibly in the neighbourhood, who saw Miss Temple in the street, a former pupil of hers in past years. Someone whom she herself might not recognise after a period of time. But the girl or woman would have recognised her, because a Headmaster or Headmistress of over sixty is not unlike the same Headmaster or Headmistress at the age of fifty. She is recognisable. Some woman who recognised her former mistress, and also knew that her mistress knew something damaging about her. Someone who might in some way prove a danger to her."
She sighed. "I myself do not know this part of the world at all. Have you any particular knowledge of it?"
"No," said Professor Wanstead. "I could not claim a personal knowledge of this part of the country. I know something, however, of various things that have happened in this part of the world entirely because of what you have told me. If it had not been for my acquaintanceship with you and the things you have told me I could have been more at sea than I am.
"What are you yourself actually doing here? You do not know. Yet you were sent here. It was deliberately arranged by Rafiel that you should come here, that you should take this coach tour, that you and I should meet. There have been other places where we have stopped or through which we have passed, but special arrangements here were made so that you should actually stay for a couple of nights here. You were put up with former friends of his who would not have refused any request he made. Was there a reason for that?"
"So that I could learn certain facts that I had to know," said Miss Marple.
"A series of murders that took place a good many years ago?" Professor Wanstead looked doubtful. "There is nothing unusual in that. You can say the same of many places in England and Wales. These things seem always to go in a series. First a girl found assaulted and murdered. Then another girl not very far away. Then something of the same kind perhaps twenty miles away. The same pattern of death.
"Two girls were reported missing from Jocelyn St Mary itself, the one that we have been discussing whose body was found six months later, many miles away and who was last seen in the company of Michael Rafiel..."
"And the other?"
"A girl called Nora Broad. Not a 'quiet girl with no boyfriends'. Possibly with one boyfriend too many. Her body was never found. It will be one day. There have been cases when twenty years have passed," said Wanstead. He slowed down: "We have arrived. This is Carristown, and here is the Hospital."
Shepherded by Professor Wanstead, Miss Marple entered. The Professor was obviously expected. He was ushered into a small room where a woman rose from a desk.
"Oh yes," she said, "Professor Wanstead. And er this is er -" She hesitated slightly.
"Miss Jane Marple," said Professor Wanstead. "I talked to Sister Barker on the telephone."
"Oh yes. Sister Barker said that she would be accompanying you."
"How is Miss Temple?"
"Much the same, I think. I am afraid there is not much improvement to report."
She rose. "I will take you to Sister Barker."
Sister Barker was a tall, thin woman. She had a low, decisive voice and dark grey eyes that had a habit of looking at you and looking away almost immediately, leaving you with the feeling that you had been inspected in a very short space of time, and judgement pronounced upon you.
"I don't know what arrangements you have in mind," said Professor Wanstead.
"Well, I had better tell Miss Marple just what we have arranged. First I must make it clear to you that the patient, Miss Temple, is still in a coma with very rare intervals. She appears to come to occasionally, to recognise her surroundings and to be able to say a few words. But there is nothing one can do to stimulate her. It has to be left to the utmost patience. I expect Professor Wanstead has already told you that in one of her intervals of consciousness she uttered quite distinctly the words 'Miss Jane Marple'. And then: 'I want to speak to her. Miss Jane Marple.' After that she relapsed into unconsciousness. Doctor thought it advisable to get in touch with the other occupants of the coach. Professor Wanstead came to see us and explained various matters and said he would bring you over. I am afraid that all we can ask you to do is to sit in the private ward where Miss Temple is, and perhaps be ready to make a note of any words she should say, if she does regain consciousness. I am afraid the prognosis is not very helpful. To be quite frank, which is better I think, since you are not a near relative and are unlikely to be disturbed by this information, Doctor thinks that she is sinking fast, that she may die without recovering consciousness. There is nothing one can do to relieve the concussion. It is important that someone should hear what she says and Doctor thinks it advisable that she should not see too many people round her if she regains consciousness. If Miss Marple is not worried at the thought of sitting there alone, there will be a nurse in the room, though not obviously so. That is, she will not be noticed from the bed, and will not move unless she's asked for. She will sit in a corner of the room shielded by a screen."
She added, "We have a police official there also, ready to take down anything. The Doctor thinks it advisable that he also should not be noticed by Miss Temple. One person alone, and that possibly a person she expects to see, will not alarm her or make her lose knowledge of what she wants to say to you. I hope this will not be too difficult a thing to ask you?"
"Oh no," said Miss Marple, "I'm quite prepared to do that. I have a small notebook with me and a pen that will not be in evidence. I can remember things by heart for a very short time, so I need not appear to be obviously taking notes of what she says. You can trust my memory and I am not deaf - not deaf in the real sense of the word. I don't think my hearing is quite as good as it used to be, but if I am sitting near a bedside, I ought to be able to hear any thing she says quite easily even if it is whispered. I am used to sick people. I have had a good deal to do with them in my time."
Again the lightning glance of Sister Barker went over Miss Marple. This time a faint inclination of the head showed satisfaction.
"It is kind of you," she said, "and I am sure that if there is any help you can give, we can rely on you to give it. If Professor Wanstead likes to sit in the waiting room downstairs, we can call him at any moment if it should be necessary. Now, Miss Marple, perhaps you will accompany me."
Miss Marple followed Sister along a passage and into a small well appointed single room. In the bed there, in a dimly-lighted room since the blinds were half drawn, lay Elizabeth Temple. She lay there like a statue, yet she did not give the impression of being asleep. Her breath came uncertainly in slight gasps. Sister Barker bent to examine her patient, motioned Miss Marple into a chair beside the bed. She then crossed the room to the door again. A young man with a note-book in his hand came from behind the screen there.
"Doctor's orders, Mr Reckitt," said Sister Barker.
A nurse also appeared. She had been sitting in the opposite corner of the room.
"Call me if necessary, Nurse Edmonds," said Sister Barker, "and get Miss Marple anything she may need."
Miss Marple loosened her coat. The room was warm. The nurse approached and took it from her. Then she retired to her former position, Miss Marple sat down in the chair. She looked at Elizabeth Temple thinking, as she had thought before when looking at her in the coach, what a fine shaped head she had. Her grey hair drawn back from it, fitted her face in a perfect cap-like effect. A handsome woman, and a woman of personality. Yes, a thousand pities, Miss Marple thought, a thousand pities if the world was going to lose Elizabeth Temple.
Miss Marple eased the cushion at her back, moved the chair a fraction of an inch and sat quietly to wait. Whether to wait in vain or to some point, she had no idea. Time passed. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour, thirty-five minutes. Then suddenly, quite unexpectedly as it were, a voice came. Low, but distinct, slightly husky. None of the resonance it had once held. "Miss Marple."
Elizabeth Temple's eyes were open now. They were looking at Miss Marple. They looked competent, perfectly sensible. She was studying the face of the woman who was sitting by her bed, studying her without any sign of emotion, of surprise. Only, one would say, of scrutiny. Fully conscious scrutiny. And the voice spoke again.
"Miss Marple. You are Jane Marple?"
"That is right. Yes," said Miss Marple, "Jane Marple."
"Henry often spoke of you. He said things about you."
The voice stopped. Miss Marple said with a slight query in her voice, "Henry?"
"Henry Clithering, an old friend of mine - very old friend."
"An old friend of mine too," said Miss Marple. "Henry Clithering."
Her mind went back to the many years she had known him, Sir Henry Clithering, the things he had said to her, the assistance he had asked from her sometimes, and the assistance that she had asked from him. A very old friend.
"I remembered your name. On the passenger list. I thought it must be you. You could help. That's what he - Henry, yes - would say if he were here. You might be able to help. To find out. It's important. Very important although it's a long time ago now - a long time ago."
Her voice faltered a little, her eyes half closed. Nurse got up, came across the room, picked up a small glass and held it to Elizabeth Temple's lips. Miss Temple took a sip, nodded her head dismissively. Nurse put down the glass and went back to her chair.
"If I can help, I will," said Miss Marple. She asked no further questions.
Miss Temple said, "Good," and after a minute or two, again, "Good."
For two or three minutes she lay with her eyes closed. She might have been asleep or unconscious. Then her eyes opened again suddenly.
"Which," she said, "which of them? That's what one has got to know. Do you know what I am talking about?"
"I think so. A girl who died... Nora Broad?" A frown came quickly to Elizabeth Temple's forehead.
"No, no, no. The other girl. Verity Hunt."
There was a pause and then, "Jane Marple. You're old older than when he talked about you. You're older, but you can still find out things, can't you?"
Her voice became slightly higher, more insistent.
"You can, can't you? Say you can. I've not much time. I know that. I know it quite well. One of them, but which? Find out. Henry would have said you can. It may be dangerous for you but you'll find out, won't you?"
"With God's help, I will," said Miss Marple. It was a vow.
The eyes closed, then opened again. Something like a smile seemed to try and twitch the lips.
"The big stone from above. The Stone of Death."
"Who rolled that stone down?"
"Don't know. No matter - only Verity. Find out about Verity. Truth. Another name for truth, Verity."
Miss Marple saw the faint relaxation of the body on the bed. There was a faintly whispered: "Good-bye. Do your best..."
Her body relaxed, the eyes closed. The nurse came again to the bedside. This time she took up the pulse, felt it, and beckoned to Miss Marple. Miss Marple rose obediently and followed her out of the room.
"That's been a big effort for her," said the nurse. "She won't regain consciousness again for some time. Perhaps not at all. I hope you learnt something?"
"I don't think I did," said Miss Marple, "but one never knows, does one."
"Did you get anything?" asked Professor Wanstead, as they went out to the car.
"A name," said Miss Marple. "Verity. Was that the girl's name?"
"Yes. Verity Hunt."
Elizabeth Temple died an hour and a half later. She died without regaining consciousness.
Chapter 14
MR BROADRIBB WONDERS
"Seen The Times this morning?" said Mr Broadribb to his partner, Mr Schuster.
Mr Schuster said he couldn't afford The Times, he took the Telegraph.
"Well, it may be in that too," said Mr Broadribb. "In the deaths. Miss Elizabeth Temple, D.Sc."
Mr Schuster looked faintly puzzled.
"Headmistress of Fallowfield. You've heard of Fallowfield, haven't you?"
"Of course," said Schuster. "Girls' school. Been going for fifty years or so. First, class, fantastically expensive. So she was the Headmistress of it, was she? I thought the Headmistress had resigned some time ago. Six months at least. I'm sure I read about it in the paper. That is to say there was a bit about the new Headmistress. Married woman. Youngish. Thirty-five to forty. Modern ideas. Give the girls lessons in cosmetics, let 'em wear trouser suits. Something of that kind."
"Hum," said Mr Broadribb, making the noise that solicitors of his age are likely to make when they hear something which elicits criticism based on long experience. "Don't think she'll ever make the name that Elizabeth Temple did. Quite someone, she was. Been there a long time, too."
"Yes," said Mr Schuster, somewhat uninterested. He wondered why Broadribb was so interested in defunct schoolmistresses.
Schools were not really of particular interest to either of the two gentlemen. Their own offspring were now more or less disposed of. Mr Broadribb's two sons were respectively in the Civil Service and in an oil firm, and Mr Schuster's rather younger progeny were at different universities where both of them respectively were making as much trouble for those in authority as they possibly could do. He said,
