Arsenic and Old Ladies

(Jane Marple is a creation of Agatha Christie. Abby, Martha and Teddy Brewster were created by Joseph Kesselring)



“Jane Marple!”

“Abby Brewster!” The diminutive elderly woman on the stoop said, shocking Abby when she answered the knock on the front door of the old house she shared with her sister Martha.

“Do come in, Jane dear. Martha!” Abby shouted over her shoulder as she hugged her British cousin before leading her into the dark interior of the dining room. Miss Marple placed the two small suitcases she was carrying onto the floor as another woman, wearing the same severe black dress as Abby, appeared from a doorway on the opposite wall.

“Why, Jane,” Martha gasped in surprise as she hurried over to hug and kiss Jane. “We weren’t expecting you this early.”

“Oh, dear,” Miss Marple said with some nervousness. “Did you not get my letter that I would be arriving on the twelfth?”

“Yes, we did get your letter but I thought you would be here on the twenty-first,” Abby replied.

“Abby dear, you told me it was the thirty-first,” Martha scolded.

“Oh, my. It seems we’re all a bit confused and I’m the one to blame.” Jane chuckled self-consciously.

“But it is no matter,” Martha said. “We’re glad you’re here, Jane. Would you like something to drink? You must be absolutely parched from your trip.”

“Thank you very much,” Jane answered. “That would be very nice, indeed.”

“Would you like a glass of sherry, dear?” Abba asked as she moved toward a cupboard behind the dining room table.

“What I’d really like is some of your elderberry wine,” Jane smiled with anticipation. Abby stopped in mid-stride. “I remember you two always made the best. I haven’t had any nearly as good as yours in years and years.”

Abby and Martha glanced at each other uneasily.

“I’m sorry, Jane,” Martha spoke. “We ran out just before you got here.

“Yes, we hoped to have some when you got here on the twenty-first.”

“Thirty-first, Abby.” Martha corrected.

“Well, then I suppose I shall settle for some sherry,” Jane said with a disappointed sigh.

With obvious looks of relief, Abby and Martha quickly poured three glasses and sat Miss Marple down at the small table, covered with a white lacy tablecloth surround by four dark wood chairs.

“Now, tell us,” Martha said as they took their seats. “What brings you all the way across the ocean?”

“Can’t I just come to see my dear cousins?” Jane giggled as she took a sip. Abby and Martha snickered, too. “Actually, my nephew Raymond West sent me over here. You remember him, don’t you? My sister’s boy?”

“Oh, my, yes,” Abby exclaimed. “Such a nice boy, too. How is he doing?”

“Why, he’s full grown now,” Jane said with pride. “Healthy as a horse, too. What about your nephew Mortimer? He’s about the same age as Ray, isn’t he?

“Yes and very handsome,” Abby responded. “We think he has a sweetheart now. He says he will bring her over sometime so we can meet her.”

They sat for a while catching up on all the family gossip, making all the appropriate comments and noises to each other. Abby replenished their drinks. Jane spoke as Abby handed her glass back. “The reason Raymond sent me was to look for a friend of his, who recently disappeared in this area.”

“Disappeared?” Abby repeated, gasping. “How dreadful!”

Martha also looked horrified. “I don’t think we’ve heard of anyone vanishing around here. Do you, Abby? What was his name? Did you know him well?”

“I think I met him once or twice at the vicarage in St. Mary Mead,” Jane smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. “I really don’t know him very well, but Raymond can be quite persuasive. So here I am.” She giggled. “His name is Mr. Chauncey Prendergast.” She caught a significant glance exchanged between the sisters. “Oh, I see you know him.”

Abby opened her mouth to speak but Martha stopped her. “We know of him, really. He stayed here for just one night but he left before morning. He didn’t even say good-bye.”

“How mysterious,” Jane wondered, putting a hand to her mouth.

“It was Mr. Prendergast that finished off our elderberry wine,” Abby said, pouting.

“Did he say where he might be going?”

“I believe he mentioned visiting a relative in Peoria,” Abby replied.

“Oh, no, dear,” Martha interjected. “It was Phoenix.”

“But I’m certain he said Peoria, Martha,” Abby insisted.

“Oh, dear,” Jane giggled. “He seems to have outsmarted us all. But why would he leave so suddenly and not tell you he was going?”

The sisters shook their heads.

“Did he leave without paying?” Miss Marple pressed.

This time, the head shaking was more emphatic. “He paid in full and with cash when he checked into our humble bed and breakfast,” Martha explained.

“May I see your ledger?” Jane smiled as sweetly as she could. “This whole think is so odd that I’m finding it quite fascinating.”

Abby, eager to be of assistance ran to retrieve the ledger before Martha could stop her. Jane noted the worried look on Martha’s face that vanished the instant she realized Miss Marple was peering at her. Abby returned with the book and laid it out on the table for Jane to study.

“Right here,” she pointed to an entry from the previous week. “Mr. Chauncey Prendergast checked in and paid for his stay, but as you see, he didn’t put a departure date.”

“Unless his departure date was the same as his arrival date?” Jane put a finger to her lips in thought.

“You think he meant to leave in the middle of the night?” Abby gasped.

“It’s possible, but look at how much he paid.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she pointed to a figure on the page.

“Mysterious,” Abby said in a tone equal to Miss Marple’s. “He must’ve paid for a fort-oh!” She jumped in surprise as Martha kicked her ankle.

“Abby!” she snapped. She opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted when a door behind them opened to reveal a bespectacled face. Wide-open eyes peered out of the gloom inside, daring from one face to another. When they fell on Jane, they opened wider in surprise and withdrew into the darkness, the door slamming shut.

“Was that little Teddy?” Miss Marple asked.

“Yes, you can see he is quite grown, too.” Martha was beaming with pride but Jane noted that it although filled with love, her smile seemed worried behind the happy look on her face. “I need to go see what he wants. Abby, why don’t you show Jane to her room?”

“Oh, that’s a splendid idea,” Abby clutched her hand around Jane’s wrist and pulled her toward the stairs. “Come, dear. You must want to relax or freshen up after your long journey.”

“Well, I am a bit weary and a little drowsy after the sherry.” Jane let herself be led upstairs.

The second floor consisted of a long corridor lined with dark wood doors on each side. Small tables with vases sitting on doilies alternated between thresholds. The ivory-painted walls gave the hallway a warm glow.

“How lovely,” Miss Marple wondered. “It’s just as I remembered.”

Abby walked to a door and opened it. “I think we’ll put you in here, dear.” The space beyond revealed a quaint room with lace curtains in the window and a large four-poster bed with ruffled pillow covers and bedspread.

Jane marveled at the loveliness as she walked around, admiring the antique décor. “It’s like nothing has changed since I was here years ago,” she said in breathless wonder.

“Martha and I are very happy with everything we have here,” Abby smiled with genuine satisfaction. “There’s no need to get new things if you take care of the old ones.”

“And that is so important as we get older ourselves.” Sadness crept into Miss Marple’s voice. “It’s nice if we have someone looking out for us.” She took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Abby sat down next to her. “Thank goodness we have our nephews at least.” She put an arm around Jane’s thin shoulders. “Mortimer and Theodore. Bless his heart. Teddy may be a bit strange but he is totally devoted to us.”

“Oh, yes, he is a sweet boy, I do recall.” Jane leaned over to clasp Abby’s hand with hers. “My Raymond watches over me like a protective mother hen.” They both giggled. “But we must look after them, too.” She raised her forefinger to emphasize the point. “They may be grown and think they know the answers to all of today’s problems so it’s up to the aunties to make sure they wash behind their ears and mind their manners before they go off to save the world.”

Abby nodded sympathetically. Jane realized her conversation had saddened her cousin, so she decided on a change of subject. “Was Mr. Prendergast’s room as nice as this one?”

Abby appeared eager to talk about something else and the house was the perfect diversion. “Gracious, yes. His room was the one just across the hall from yours and almost an exact duplicate.”

“How wonderful,” Jane replied. “All the rooms are the same then?”

“Yes, it helps that our guests aren’t picky about their surroundings.”

“Oh?”

“Mostly we get lonely old me so we just do our best to put them out of…er, make them as comfortable as we can.” Abby jumped to her feet. “I’d better let you rest and go see if Martha needs help with Teddy.” Without looking back, she scurried out of the room.

Jane remained on the edge of the bed for a few more minutes, thinking. She made a decision and walked to the door.

A short while later, she joined Abby and Martha at the dining room table for dinner.

“Is Teddy feeling better now?” Jane asked.

“Oh, he’s as right as rain,” Martha replied, taking a bite of food.

“What does he do down there in the basement? That can’t be healthy for him, all that dampness and cold?” There was an edge to her voice and she fixed her blue eyes on Martha.

In response, Martha put her fork down and stared back at Miss Marple. Abby sensed the sudden tension and glanced back and forth between her sister and cousin.

“Jane?” Martha whispered nervously.

“Martha, I know what happened to Mr. Prendergast.”

Abby gasped. Her hands flew to cover her mouth.

“What are you talking about?” Martha recovered slightly.

“I searched his room earlier today,” Jane declared. “I found his travel itinerary under his mattress. He wasn’t planning on leaving here until he was ready to return to England this very day. Besides, Raymond told me that Mr. Prendergast didn’t have any relatives or friends here so why would he go to Phoenix or Peoria?”

The sisters sat dumbfounded.

“I knew something was wrong when you refused to serve me any elderberry wine.” Jane pointed to a decorative decanter on a shelf in the cupboard. “You’ve always kept it in that bottle right there. I remember that just as well as the day you were born, Abigail Brewster. And I had to wonder why you wouldn’t let me have some.”

Both Martha and Abby paled as the blood drained from their faces.

“I remember you two as youngsters and I know you better than you know yourselves. How you were always taking pity on poor animals you found. You’d try to put them out of their misery but in the kindest of ways. Didn’t you do the same for Mr. Prendergast?”

The sisters looked at each other with sad faces before turning to Jane.

“No.” They said simultaneously.

Miss Marple was shocked.

“You’re right about everything, Jane,” Martha confessed. “We do try to put lonely old men out of their misery.” She paused as if not knowing how to continue. “I thought we had done the same for Mr. Prendergast. I mean we did serve him some poisoned wine and he collapsed.”

Jane listened intently with her eyes locked on Martha.

“Teddy always takes care of the bodies for us and we left Mr. Prendergast to him,” Martha continued while tears formed in Abby’s eyes. “But his body has disappeared!”

“What?”

“Teddy was afraid to tell us what happened but when he saw you here this afternoon he panicked. He told me that the morning after we killed…er, poisoned Mr. Prednergast, he vanished from the basement.” Remorse crept out of Martha’s voice to be replaced with confusion.

“Oh, dear,” Jane whispered. She had gone as pale as her cousins. “Does Mortimer know what you’ve been doing here?”

They shook their heads.

“He’s such a dear boy but he doesn’t need to be bothered by us old biddies,” Abby replied, pouting again.

Just then the front door burst open. A man in haggard clothing and unkempt hair stumbled in. The women shrieked in surprise. They jumped up and huddled together in a corner next to the cupboard.

“Mr. Prendergast!” Martha screamed.

The man stood still for a second, looking around. His wild eyes darted around the room until they focused on Abby and Martha.

“You!” he spat. “You tried to kill me by poisoning me.” He pointed an accusing finger at them.

“No, Mr. Prendergast,” Abby pleaded.

“Thought you had succeeded, didn’t you?” Chauncey continued. “I was eating dinner and the next thing I knew, I woke up in your basement. Your idiot nephew was sound asleep so I managed to escape without waking him. Don’t know how I did it, being all poisoned and everything.” He advanced menacingly and the women tried to shrink even more. They pressed their bodies as far back into the corner as the cupboard let them. “I must’ve been delirious for days, but now I’m cured and you two bitches are gonna hang,” he shouted with fury blazing in his eyes.

He recognized Jane, cowering with her cousins. “I hope you haven’t eaten the food here, Miss Marple,” he growled. “They’ll try to poison you, too.”

Jane suddenly smiled with sweetness. “Please try to calm down, Mr. Prendergast.” She freed herself from her cousins and poured a small glass of liquid from a decorative decanter from the cupboard. She handed the glass to him, which he reached for. “Won’t you have a glass of elderberry wine?”