4.50 From Paddington by Agatha Christie Page A

life, and after Luther's death the capital to be divided equally between Luther's children, Edmund, Cedric, Harold, Alfred, Emma and Edith. Edmund was killed in the war, and Edith died four years ago, so that on Luther Crackenthorpe's decease the money will be divided between Cedric, Harold, Alfred, Emma and Edith's son Alexander Eastley.”
    “And the house?”
    “That will go to Luther Crackenthorpe's eldest surviving son or his issue.”
    “Was Edmund Crackenthorpe married?”
    “No.”
    “So the property will actually go -?”
    “To the next son - Cedric.”
    “Mr. Luther Crackenthorpe himself cannot dispose of it?”
    “No.”
    “And he has no control of the capital.”
    “No.”
    “Isn't that rather unusual? I suppose,” said Inspector Craddock shrewdly, “that his father didn't like him.”
    “You suppose correctly,” said Mr. Wimborne. “Old Josiah was disappointed that his eldest son showed no interest in the family business - or indeed in business of any kind. Luther spent his time travelling abroad and collecting objets d'art. Old Josiah was very unsympathetic to that kind of thing. So he left his money in trust for the next generation.”
    “But in the meantime the next generation have no income except what they make or what their father allows them, and their father has a considerable income but no power of disposal of the capital.”
    “Exactly. And what all this has to do with the murder of an unknown young woman of foreign origin I cannot imagine!”
    “It doesn't seem to have anything to do with it,” Inspector Craddock agreed promptly, “I just wanted to ascertain all the facts.”
    Mr. Wimborne looked at him sharply, then, seemingly satisfied with the result of his scrutiny, rose to his feet.
    “I am proposing now to return to London,” he said. “Unless there is anything further you wish to know?”
    He looked from one man to the other.
    “No, thank you, sir.”
    The sound of the gong rose fortissimo from the hall outside.
    “Dear me,” said Mr. Wimborne. “One of the boys, I think, must be performing.”
    Inspector Craddock raised his voice, to be heard above the clamour, as he said:
    “We'll leave the family to have lunch in peace, but Inspector Bacon and I would like to return after it - say at two-fifteen - and have a short interview with every member of the family.”
    “You think that is necessary?”
    “Well...” Craddock shrugged his shoulders. “It's just an off chance. Somebody might remember something that would give us a clue to the woman's identity.”
    “I doubt it, Inspector. I doubt it very much. But I wish you good luck. As I said just now, the sooner this distasteful business is cleared up, the better for everybody.”
    Shaking his head, he went slowly out of the room.

4.50 From Paddington
    II
    Lucy had gone straight to the kitchen on getting back from the inquest, and was busy with preparations for lunch when Bryan Eastley put his head in.
    “Can I give you a hand in any way?” he asked. “I'm handy about the house.”
    Lucy gave him a quick, slightly preoccupied glance. Bryan had arrived at the inquest direct in his small M.G. car, and she had not as yet had much time to size him up.
    What she saw was likeable enough.
    Eastley was an amiable-looking young man of thirty-odd with brown hair, rather plaintive blue eyes and an enormous fair moustache.
    “The boys aren't back yet,” he said, coming in and sitting on the end of the kitchen table. “It will take 'em another twenty minutes on their bikes.”
    Lucy smiled.
    “They were certainly determined not to miss anything.”
    “Can't blame them. I mean to say - first inquest in their young lives and right in the family so to speak.”
    “Do you mind getting off the table, Mr. Eastley? I want to put the baking dish down there.”
    Bryan obeyed.
    “I say, that fat's corking hot. What are you going to put in it?”
    “Yorkshire pudding.”
    “Good old Yorkshire. Roast beef of old England, is that