Postern of Fate tat-5

by Agatha Christie

  With the general feeling of one returning to the beginning, she climbed up to the book-room and walked round it vaguely, looking at the titles of various volumes. Children's books, lots of children's books, but really one couldn't go any farther than that, could one? She had gone as far as anyone could already. By now she was almost certain that she had looked at every single book in this particular room; Alexander Parkinson had not revealed any more of his secrets.

  She was standing there running her fingers through her hair, frowning and kicking at a bottom shelf of theological works whose bindings were nearly all of them scaling away from the books, when Albert came up.

  'Someone as wants to see you downstairs, madam.'

  'What do you mean by someone?' said Tuppence. 'Anyone I know?'

  'I dunno. Shouldn't think so. Boys they are, mainly. Boys and a girl or two all in a hump. Spect they want a subscription for something or other.'

  'Oh. They didn't give any names or say anything?'

  'Oh, one of them did. Said he was Clarence and you'd know all about him.'

  'Oh,' said Tuppence. 'Clarence.' She considered for a moment.

  Was this the fruit from yesterday? Anyway, it could do no harm to follow it up.

  'Is the other boy here too? The one I was talking to yesterday in the garden?'

  'Don't know. They all look much alike. Dirty, you know, and all the rest of it.'

  'Oh well,' said Tuppence, 'I'll come down.'

  When she had reached the ground floor she turned enquiringly to her guide.

  Albert said, 'Oh, I didn't let them come into the house. Wouldn't be safe, I think. Never know what you might lose, these days. They're out in the garden. They said to tell you they was by the gold-mine.'

  'They was by the what?' asked Tuppence.

  'The gold-mine.'

  'Oh,' said Tuppence.

  'What way would that be?'

  Tuppence pointed.

  'Past the rose garden, and then right by the dahlia walk. I think I know. There's a sort of water thing there. I don't know if it's a brook or a canal or has once been a pond that has had goldfish in it. Anyway, give me my gumboots and I'd better take my mackintosh as well in case someone pushes me into it.'

  'I should put it on if I was you, ma'am, it's going to rain presently.'

  'Oh dear,' said Tuppence. 'Rain, rain. Always rain.'

  She went out and came fairly quickly to what seemed to be a considerable deputation waiting for her. There were, she thought, about ten or twelve of assorted ages, mainly boys flanked by two long-haired girls, all looking rather excited. One of them said in a shrill voice as Tuppence approached:

  'Here she comes! Here she is. Now then, who's going to speak? Go on, George, you'd better talk. You're the one as always talks.'

  'Well, you're not going to now. I'm going to talk,' said Clarence.

  'You shut up, Clarrie. You know your voice is weak. It makes you cough if you talk.'

  'Now look here, this is my show. I -'

  'Good morning, all,' said Tuppence, breaking in. 'You've come to see me about something, have you? What is it?'

  'Got something for you, we have,' said Clarence. 'Information. That's what you're after, isn't it?'

  'It depends,' said Tuppence. 'What kind of information?'

  'Oh, not information about nowadays. All long ago.'

  'Historical information,' said one of the girls, who appeared to be the intellectual chief of the group. 'Most interesting if you're doing research into the past.'

  'I see,' said Tuppence, concealing the fact that she did not see. 'What's this place here?'

  'It's a gold-mine.'

  'Oh,' said Tuppence. 'Any gold in it?'

  She looked about her.

  'Well, really, it's a goldfish pool,' explained one of the boys. 'Used to be goldfish in it once, you know. Special ones with lots of tails, from Japan or somewhere. Oh, wonderful it used to be. That was in old Mrs Forrester's time. That's - oh, that's ten years ago.'

  'Twenty-four years ago,' said one of the girls.

  'Sixty years ago,' said a very small voice, 'every bit of sixty years ago. Lots of goldfish there were. Ever so many. Said to be very valuable, they was. They used to die sometimes. Sometimes they ate each other, sometimes they were just lying on top, floating about, you know.'

  'Well,' said Tuppence, 'what do you want to tell me about them? There are no goldfish to see here now.'

  'No. It's information,' said the intellectual girl.

  A large outbreak of voices occurred. Tuppence waved her hand.

  'Not all at once,' she said. 'One or two speak at a time. What's all this about?'

  'Something perhaps you ought to know about where things was hidden once. Hidden once and said to be very important.'

  'And how do you know about them?' said Tuppence.

  This provoked a chorus of replies. It was not very easy to hear everyone at once.

  'It was Janie.'

  'It was Janie's Uncle Ben,' said one voice.

  'No, it wasn't. It was Harry, it was... Yes, it was Harry. Harry's cousin Tom... Much younger than that. It was his grandmother told him and his grandmother had been told by Josh. Yes. I don't know who Josh was. I think Josh was her husband... No, he wasn't her husband, he was her uncle.'

  'Oh dear,' said Tuppence.

  She looked over the gesticulating crowd and picked out a choice.

  'Clarence,' she said. 'You're Clarence, aren't you? Your friend told me about you. Yes, well what do you know and what's it all about?'

  'Well, if you want to find out you've got to go to the PPC.'

  'Go to the what?' said Tuppence.

  'The PPC.'

  'What's the PPC?'

  'Don't you know? Hasn't anyone told you? PPC is the Pensioners' Palace Club.'

  'Oh dear,' said Tuppence, 'that sounds very grand.'

  'It isn't grand at all,' said one boy of about nine. 'It isn't grand a bit. It's only old age pensioners saying things and getting together. Pack of lies, some people say they tell about things they knew. You know, knew in the last war and knew after it. Oh, all sorts of things they say.'

  'Where is this PPC?' asked Tuppence.

  'Oh, it's along at the end of the village. Halfway to Morton Cross, it is. If you're a pensioner you get a ticket for it and you go there and you have bingo and you have all sorts of things there. It's quite fun, it is. Oh, some of them are very old. Some of them are deaf and blind and everything else. But they all - well, they like getting together, you know.'

  'Well I should like to pay a visit to it,' said Tuppence. 'Certainly. Is there any particular time one goes there?'

  'Well, any time you like, I suppose, but the afternoon would be a good time, you know. Yes. That's when they like visits. In the afternoon. Then if they can say they've got a friend coming - if they've got a friend coming they get extra things for tea, you know. Biscuits sometimes, with sugar on. And crisps sometimes. Things like that. What did you say, Fred?'

  Fred took a step forward. He gave a somewhat pompous bow to Tuppence.

  'I shall be very happy,' he said, 'to escort you. Shall we say about half past three this afternoon?'

  'Ah be yourself' said Clarence. 'Don't go talking like that.'

  'I shall be very pleased to come,' said Tuppence. She looked at the water. 'I can't help being rather sorry that there aren't any goldfish any more.'

  'You ought to have seen the ones with five tails. Wonderful, they was. Somebody's dog fell in here once. Mrs Faggett's, it was.'

  He was contradicted. 'No it wasn't. It was somebody else, her name was Follyo, not Fagot -'

  'It was Foliatt and it was spelt with a plain f. Not a capital letter.'

  'Ah, don't be silly. It was someone quite different. It was that Miss French, that was. Two small ffs she spelt it with.'

  'Did the dog drown?' asked Tuppence.

  'No, he didn't drown. He was only a puppy, you see, and his mother was upset and she went along and she pulled
at Miss French's dress. Miss Isabel was in the orchard picking apples and the mother dog pulled at her dress and Miss lsabel she come along and she saw the puppy drowning and she jumped right into this here and pulled it out. Wet through, she was, and the dress she was wearing was never fit for wearing again.'

  'Oh dear,' said Tuppence, 'what a lot of things seem to have gone on here. All right,' she said, 'I'll be ready this afternoon. Perhaps two of you or three would come for me and take me to this Pensioners' Palace Club.'

  'What three? Who's going to come?'

  Uproar happened immediately.

  'I'm coming... No, I'm not... No, Betty is... No, Betty shan't come. Betty went the other day. I mean, she went to the cinema party the other day. She can't go again.'

  'Well, settle it between you,' said Tuppence, 'and come here at half past three.'

  'I hope you'll find it interesting,' said Clarence.

  'It will be of historical interest,' said the intellectual girl firmly.

  'Oh, shut up, Janet!' said Clarence. He turned to Tuppence. 'She's always like that,' he said, 'Janet is. She goes to grammar school, that's why. She boasts about it, see? A comprehensive wasn't good enough for her and her parents made a fuss and now she's at grammar school. That's why she goes on like this all the time.'

  Tuppence wondered, as she finished her lunch, whether the events of the morning would produce any sequel. Would anybody really come to escort her this afternoon and take her to the PPC? Was there any such thing really as the PPC or was it a nickname of some kind that the children had invented? Anyway, it might be fun, Tuppence thought, to sit waiting in case someone came.

  However, the deputation was punctual to the minute. At half past three the bell rang, Tuppence rose from her seat by the fire, clapped a hat upon her head - an indiarubber hat because she thought it would probably rain - and Albert appeared to escort her to the front door.

  'Not going to let you go with just anyone,' he breathed into her ear.

  'Look here, Albert,' whispered Tuppence, 'is there really such a place as the PPC here?'

  'I thought that had something to do with visiting cards,' said Albert, who was always prone to show his complete knowledge of social customs. 'You know, what you leave on people when you're going away or when you're arriving, I'm not sure which.'

  'I think it's something to do with pensioners.'

  'Oh yes, they've got a sort of a place. Yes. Built just two or three years ago, I think it was. You know, it's just down after you pass the rectory and then you turn right and you see it. It's rather an ugly building, but it's nice for the old folk and any who like can go meeting there. They have games and things, and there's a lot of ladies goes and helps with things. Gets up concerts and - sort of - well, rather like, you know, Women's Institute. Only it's specially for the elderly people. They're all very, very old, and most of them deaf.'

  'Yes,' said Tuppence, 'yes. It sounded rather like that.'

  The front door opened. Janet, by reason of her intellectual superiority, stood there first. Behind her was Clarence, and behind him was a tall boy with a squint who appeared to answer to the name of Bert.

  'Good afternoon, Mrs Beresford,' said Janet. 'Everybody is so pleased that you are coming. I think perhaps you'd better take an umbrella, the weather forecast was not very good today.'

  'I've got to go that way anyway,' said Albert, 'so I'll come with you a short part of it.'

  Certainly, Tuppence thought, Albert was always very protective. Perhaps just as well, but she did not think that either Janet, Bert or Clarence was likely to be a danger to her. The walk took about twenty minutes. When the red building was reached they went through the gate, up to the door and were received by a stout woman of about seventy.

  'Ah, so we've got visitors. I'm so pleased you could come, my dear, so pleased.' She patted Tuppence upon the shoulder. 'Yes, Janet, thank you very much. Yes. This way. Yes. None of you need wait unless you like, you know.'

  'Oh I think the boys will be very disappointed if they didn't wait to hear a little about what all this is about,' said Janet.

  'Well, I think, you know, there are not so very many of us here. Perhaps it would be better for Mrs Beresford, not so worrying if there weren't too many of us. I wonder, Janet, if you would just go into the kitchen and tell Mollie that we are quite ready for tea to be brought in now.'

  Tuppence had not really come for tea, but she could hardly say so. Tea appeared rather rapidly. It was excessively weak, it was served with some biscuits and some sandwiches with a rather nasty type of paste in between them with an extra fishy taste. Then they sat around and seemed slightly at a loss.

  An old man with a beard who looked to Tuppence as though he was about a hundred came and sat firmly by her.

  'I'd best have a word with you first, I think, my lady,' he said, elevating Tuppence to the peerage. 'Seeing as I'm about the oldest here and have heard more of the stories of the old days than anyone else. A lot of history about this place, you know. Oh, a lot of things has happened here, not that we can go into everything at once, can we? But we've all - oh, we've all heard something about the things that went on.'

  'I gather,' said Tuppence, hastily rushing in before she could be introduced to some topic in which she had no interest whatever, 'I understand that quite a lot of interesting things went on here, not so much in the last war, but in the war before that, or even earlier. Not that any of your memories would go back as far as that. But one wonders perhaps if you could have heard things, you know, from your elderly relations.'

  'Ah, that's right,' said the old man, 'that's right. Heard a lot, I did, from my Uncle Len. Yes, ah, he was a great chap, was Uncle Len. He knew about a lot of things. He knew what went on. It was like what went on down in the house on the quay before the last war. Yes, a bad show, that. What you call one of those fakists -'

  'Fascists,' said one of the elderly ladies, a rather prim one with grey hair and a lace fichu rather the worse for wear round her neck.

  'Well fascist if you like to say it that way, what does it matter? Ah yes, one of those he was. Yes. Same sort of thing as that chap in Italy. Mussolini or something, wasn't it? Anyway, some sort of fishy name like that. Mussels or cockles. Oh yes, he did a lot of harm here. Had meetings, you know. All sorts of things like that. Someone called Mosley started it all.'

  'But in the first war there was a girl called Mary Jordan, wasn't there?' said Tuppence, wondering if this was a wise thing to say or not.

  'Ah yes. Said to be quite a good-looker, you know. Yes. Got hold of secrets out of the sailors and the soldiers.'

  A very old lady piped up in a thin voice.

  'He's not in the Navy and he's not in the Army,

  But he's just the man for me.

  Not in the Navy, not in the Army, he's in the

  Royal Ar-till-er-rie!'

  The old man took up his personal chant when she had got thus far:

  'It's a long way to Tipperary,

  It's a long way to go,

  It's a long way to Tipperary

  And the rest of it I don't know.'

  'Now that's enough Benny, that's quite enough,' said a firm-looking woman who seemed to be either his wife or his daughter.

  Another old lady sang in a quavering voice:

  'All the nice girls love a sailor,

  All the nice girls love a tar,

  All the nice girls love a sailor,

  And you know what sailors are.'

  'Oh, shut up, Maudie, we're tired of that one. Now let the lady hear something,' said Uncle Ben. 'Let the lady hear something. She's come here to hear something. She wants to hear where that thing there was all the fuss about was hidden, don't you? And all about it.'

  'That sounds very interesting,' said Tuppence, cheering up. 'Something was hidden?'

  'Ah yes, long before my time it was but I heard all about it. Yes. Before 1914. Word was handed down, you know, from one to another. Nobody knew exactly what it was and why there was all this exci
tement.'

  'Something to do with the boat race it had,' said an old lady. 'You know, Oxford and Cambridge. I was taken once. I was taken to see the boat race in London under the bridges and everything. Oh, it was a wonderful day. Oxford won by a length.'

  'A lot of nonsense you're all talking,' said a grim-looking woman with iron-grey hair. 'You don't know anything about it, you don't. I know more than most of you although it happened a long time before I was born. It was my Great-Aunt Mathilda who told me and she were told by her Aunty Lou. And that was a good forty years before them. Great talk about it, it was; and people went around looking for it. Some people thought as it was a gold-mine, you know. Yes, a gold ingot brought back from Australia. Somewhere like that.'

  'Damn silly,' said an old man, who was smoking a pipe with an air of general dislike of his fellow members. 'Mixed it up with goldfish, they did. Was as ignorant as that.'

  'It was worth a lot of money, whatever it was, or it wouldn't have been hidden,' said someone else. 'Yes, lots of people come down from the government, and yes, police too. They looked around but they couldn't find anything.'

  'Ah well, they didn't have the right clues. There are clues, you know, if you know where to look for them.' Another old lady nodded her head wisely. 'There's always clues.'

  'How interesting,' said Tuppence. 'Where? Where are these clues, I mean? In the village or somewhere outside it or -'

  This was a rather unfortunate remark as it brought down at least six different replies, all uttered at once.

  'On the moor, beyond Tower West,' one was saying.

  'Oh no, it's past Little Kenny, it was. Yes, quite near Little Kenny.'

  'No, it was the cave. The cave by the sea front. Over as far as Baldy's Head. You know, where the red rocks are. That's it. There's an old smugglers' tunnel. Wonderful, it must be. Some people say as it's there still.'

  'I saw a story once of an old Spanish main or something. Right back to the time of the Armada, it was. A Spanish boat as went down there. Full of doubloons.'

  Chapter 10