The Clocks by Agatha Christie Page B

Pebmarsh?’
    ‘Oh yes, I mean, we know her as neighbours, of course. She asks my husband for advice sometimes about the garden.’
    ‘You’re a very keen gardener, I gather?’ said the inspector.
    ‘Not really, not really,’ said Bland deprecatingly. ‘Haven’t the time, you know. Of course, I know what’s what. But I’ve got an excellent fellow–comes twice a week. He sees the garden’s kept well stocked, and well tidied up. I’d say you couldn’t beat our garden round here, but I’m not one of those real gardeners like my neighbour.’
    ‘Mrs Ramsay?’ said Hardcastle in some surprise.
    ‘No, no, farther along. 63. Mr McNaughton. He just lives for his garden. In it all day long, and mad on compost. Really, he’s quite a bore on the subject of compost–but I don’t suppose that’s what you want to talk about.’
    ‘Not exactly,’ said the inspector. ‘I only wondered if anyone–you or your wife, for instance–were out in your garden yesterday. After all, as you say, it does touch on the border of 19 and there’s just a chance that you might have seen something interesting yesterday–or heard something, perhaps?’
    ‘Midday, wasn’t it? When the murder happened I mean?’
    ‘The relevant times are between one o’clock and three o’clock.’
    Bland shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t have seen much then. I was here. So was Valerie, but we’d be having lunch, you know, and our dining-room looks out on the roadside. We shouldn’t see anything that was going on in the garden.’
    ‘What time do you have your meal?’
    ‘One o’clock or thereabouts. Sometimes it’s one-thirty.’
    ‘And you didn’t go out in the garden at all afterwards?’
    Bland shook his head.
    ‘Matter of fact,’ he said, ‘my wife always goes up to rest after lunch and, if things aren’t too busy, I take a bit of shuteye myself in that chair there. I must have left the house about–oh, I suppose a quarter to three, but unfortunately I didn’t go out in the garden at all.’
    ‘Oh, well,’ said Hardcastle with a sigh, ‘we have to ask everyone.’
    ‘Of course, of course. Wish I could be more helpful.’
    ‘Nice place you have here,’ said the inspector. ‘No money spared, if I may say so.’
    Bland laughed jovially.
    ‘Ah well, we like things that are nice. My wife’s got a lot of taste. We had a bit of a windfall a year ago. My wife came into some money from an uncle of hers. She hadn’t seen him for twenty-five years. Quite a surprise it was! It made a bit of difference to us, I can tell you. We’ve been able to do ourselves well and we’re thinking of going on one of these cruises later in the year. Very educational they are, I believe. Greece and all that. A lot of professors on them lecturing. Well, of course, I’m a self-made man and I haven’t had much time for that sort of thing but I’d be interested. That chap who went and dug up Troy, he was a grocer, I believe. Very romantic. I must say I like going to foreign parts–not that I’ve done much of that–an occasional weekend in gay Paree, that’s all. I’ve toyed with the idea of selling up here and going to live in Spain or Portugal or even the West Indies. A lot of people are doing it. Saves income tax and all that. But my wife doesn’t fancy the idea.’
    ‘I’m fond of travel, but I wouldn’t care to live out of England,’ said Mrs Bland. ‘We’ve got all our friends here–and my sister lives here, and everybody knows us. If we went abroad we’d be strangers. And then we’ve got a very good doctor here. He really understands my health. I shouldn’t care at all for a foreign doctor. I wouldn’t have any confidence in him.’
    ‘We’ll see,’ said Mr Bland cheerfully. ‘We’ll go on a cruise and you may fall in love with a Greek island.’
    Mrs Bland looked as though that were very unlikely.
    ‘There’d be a proper English doctor aboard, I suppose,’ she said doubtfully.
    ‘Sure to be,’ said her husband.
    He