“Is that what you think?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t indeed, dear. I just think that there’s a great deal of money at stake, a great deal of money. And I’m afraid I know only too well the really terrible things that people will do to lay their hands on a lot of money.”

“I suppose they will,” said Bunch. “It doesn’t really do them any good, does it? Not in the end?”

“No—but they don’t usually know that.”

“I can understand it.” Bunch smiled suddenly, her sweet rather crooked smile. “One feels it would be different for oneself … Even I feel that.” She considered: “You pretend to yourself that you’d do a lot of good with all that money. Schemes … Homes for Unwanted Children … Tired Mothers … A lovely rest abroad somewhere for elderly women who have worked too hard….”

Her face grew sombre. Her eyes were suddenly dark and tragic.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said to Miss Marple. “You’re thinking that I’d be the worst kind. Because I’d kid myself. If you just wanted the money for selfish reasons you’d at any rate see what you were like. But once you began to pretend about doing good with it, you’d be able to persuade yourself, perhaps, that it wouldn’t very much matter killing someone….”

Then her eyes cleared.

“But I shouldn’t,” she said. “I shouldn’t really kill anyone. Not even if they were old, or ill, or doing a lot of harm in the world. Not even if they were blackmailers or—or absolute beasts.” She fished a fly carefully out of the dregs of the coffee and arranged it on the table to dry. “Because people like living, don’t they? So do flies. Even if you’re old and in pain and can just crawl out in the sun. Julian says those people like living even more than young strong people do. It’s harder, he says, for them to die, the struggle’s greater. I like living myself—not just being happy and enjoying myself and having a good time. I mean living—waking up and feeling, all over me, that I’m there—ticking over.”

She blew on the fly gently; it waved its legs, and flew rather drunkenly away.

“Cheer up, darling Aunt Jane,” said Bunch. “I’d never kill anybody.”

14.

Fourteen

EXCURSION INTO THE PAST

After a night in the train, Inspector Craddock alighted at a small station in the Highlands.