II

In the rather dark living room of Boulders with its low ceiling and latticedwindow panes, Miss Hinchcliffe and Miss Murgatroyd were having an ar-gument.

“The trouble with you, Murgatroyd,” said Miss Hinchcliffe, “is that youwon’t try.”

“But I tell you, Hinch, I can’t remember a thing.”

“Now look here, Amy Murgatroyd, we’re going to do some constructivethinking. So far we haven’t shone on the detective angle. I was quitewrong over that door business. You didn’t hold the door open for the mur-derer after all. You’re cleared, Murgatroyd!”

Miss Murgatroyd gave a rather watery smile.

“It’s just our luck to have the only silent cleaning woman in ChippingCleghorn,” continued Miss Hinchcliffe. “Usually I’m thankful for it, but thistime it means we’ve got off to a bad start. Everybody else in the placeknows about that second door in the drawing room being used—and weonly heard about it yesterday—”

“I still don’t quite understand how—”

“It’s perfectly simple. Our original premises were quite right. You can’thold open a door, wave a torch and shoot with a revolver all at the sametime. We kept in the revolver and the torch and cut out the door. Well, wewere wrong. It was the revolver we ought to have cut out.”

“But he did have a revolver,” said Miss Murgatroyd. “I saw it. It wasthere on the floor beside him.”

“When he was dead, yes. It’s all quite clear. He didn’t fire that revolver—”

“Then who did?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. But whoever did it, the same per-son put a couple of poisoned aspirin tablets by Letty Blacklock’s bed—andthereby bumped off poor Dora Bunner. And that couldn’t have been RudiScherz, because he’s as dead as a doornail. It was someone who was in theroom that night of the hold-up and probably someone who was at thebirthday party, too. And the only person that lets out is Mrs. Harmon.”

“You think someone put those aspirins there the day of the birthdayparty?”

“Why not?”

“But how could they?”

“Well, we all went to the loo, didn’t we?” said Miss Hinchcliffe coarsely.

“And I washed my hands in the bathroom because of that sticky cake. Andlittle Sweetie Easterbrook powdered her grubby little face in Blacklock’sbedroom, didn’t she?”

“Hinch! Do you think she—?”

“I don’t know yet. Rather obvious, if she did. I don’t think if you were go-ing to plant some tablets, that you’d want to be seen in the bedroom at all.

Oh, yes, there were plenty of opportunities.”

“The men didn’t go upstairs.”

“There are back stairs. After all, if a man leaves the room, you don’t fol-low him to see if he really is going where you think he is going. It wouldn’tbe delicate! Anyway, don’t argue, Murgatroyd. I want to get back to theoriginal attempt on Letty Blacklock. Now, to begin with, get the factsfirmly into your head, because it’s all going to depend upon you.”

Miss Murgatroyd looked alarmed.

“Oh, dear, Hinch, you know what a muddle I get into!”

“It’s not a question of your brains, or the grey fluff that passes for brainswith you. It’s a question of eyes. It’s a question of what you saw.”

“But I didn’t see anything.”

“The trouble with you is, Murgatroyd, as I said just now, that you won’ttry. Now pay attention. This is what happened. Whoever it is that’s got itin for Letty Blacklock was there in that room that evening. He (I say he be-cause it’s easier, but there’s no reason why it should be a man more than awoman except, of course, that men are dirty dogs), well, he has previouslyoiled that second door that leads out of the drawing room and which issupposed to be nailed up or something. Don’t ask me when he did it, be-cause that confuses things. Actually, by choosing my time, I could walkinto any house in Chipping Cleghorn and do anything I liked there for halfan hour or so with no one being the wiser. It’s just a question of workingout where the daily women are and when the occupiers are out and ex-actly where they’ve gone and how long they’ll be. Just good staff work.

Now, to continue. He’s oiled that second door. It will open without asound. Here’s the setup: Lights go out, door A (the regular door) openswith a flourish. Business with torch and hold-up lines. In the meantime,while we’re all goggling, X (that’s the best term to use) slips quietly out bydoor B into the dark hall, comes up behind that Swiss idiot, takes a coupleof shots at Letty Blacklock and then shoots the Swiss. Drops the revolver,where lazy thinkers like you will assume it’s evidence that the Swiss didthe shooting, and nips back into the room again by the time that someonegets a lighter going. Got it?”

“Yes—ye-es, but who was it?”

“Well, if you don’t know, Murgatroyd, nobody does!”

“Me?” Miss Murgatroyd fairly twittered in alarm. “But I don’t know any-thing at all. I don’t really, Hinch!”

“Use that fluff of yours you call a brain. To begin with, where was every-body when the lights went out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You’re maddening, Murgatroyd. You know where youwere, don’t you? You were behind the door.”

“Yes—yes, I was. It knocked against my corn when it flew open.”

“Why don’t you go to a proper chiropodist instead of messing aboutyourself with your feet?. You’ll give yourself blood poisoning one of thesedays. Come on, now—you’re behind the door. I’m standing against themantelpiece with my tongue hanging out for a drink. Letty Blacklock is bythe table near the archway, getting the cigarettes. Patrick Simmons hasgone through the archway into the small room where Letty Blacklock hashad the drinks put. Agreed?”

“Yes, yes, I remember all that.”

“Good, now somebody else followed Patrick into that room or was juststarting to follow him. One of the men. The annoying thing is that I can’tremember whether it was Easterbrook or Edmund Swettenham. Do youremember?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You wouldn’t! And there was someone else who went through to thesmall room: Phillipa Haymes. I remember that distinctly because I remem-ber noticing what a nice flat back she has, and I thought to myself ‘that girlwould look well on a horse.’ I was watching her and thinking just that. Shewent over to the mantelpiece in the other room. I don’t know what it wasshe wanted there, because at that moment the lights went out.

“So that’s the position. In the drawing room are Patrick Simmons, Phil-lipa Haymes, and either Colonel Easterbrook or Edmund Swettenham—wedon’t know which. Now, Murgatroyd, pay attention. The most probablething is that it was one of those three who did it. If anyone wanted to get outof that far door, they’d naturally take care to put themselves in a conveni-ent place when the lights went out. So, as I say, in all probability, it’s oneof those three. And in that case, Murgatroyd, there’s not a thing you can doabout it!”

Miss Murgatroyd brightened perceptibly.

“On the other hand,” continued Miss Hinchcliffe, “there’s the possibilitythat it wasn’t one of those three. And that’s where you come in, Murga-troyd.”

“But how should I know anything about it?”

“As I said before if you don’t nobody does.”

“But I don’t! I really don’t! I couldn’t see anything at all!”

“Oh, yes, you could. You’re the only person who could see. You werestanding behind the door. You couldn’t look at the torch—because thedoor was between you and it. You were facing the other way, the sameway as the torch was pointing. The rest of us were just dazzled. But youweren’t dazzled.”

“No—no, perhaps not, but I didn’t see anything, the torch went roundand round—”

“Showing you what? It rested on faces, didn’t it? And on tables? And onchairs?”

“Yes—yes, it did … Miss Bunner, her mouth wide open and her eyes pop-ping out of her head, staring and blinking.”

“That’s the stuff!” Miss Hinchcliffe gave a sigh of relief. “The difficultythere is in making you use that grey fluff of yours! Now then, keep it up.”

“But I didn’t see any more, I didn’t, really.”

“You mean you saw an empty room? Nobody standing about? Nobodysitting down?”

“No, of course not that. Miss Bunner with her mouth open and Mrs. Har-mon was sitting on the arm of a chair. She had her eyes tight shut and herknuckles all doubled up to her face—like a child.”

“Good, that’s Mrs. Harmon and Miss Bunner. Don’t you see yet what I’mgetting at? The difficulty is that I don’t want to put ideas into your head.

But when we’ve eliminated who you did see—we can get on to the import-ant point which is, was there anyone you didn’t see. Got it? Besides thetables and the chairs and the chrysanthemums and the rest of it, therewere certain people: Julia Simmons, Mrs. Swettenham, Mrs. Easterbrook—either Colonel Easterbrook or Edmund Swettenham — Dora Bunner andBunch Harmon. All right, you saw Bunch Harmon and Dora Bunner. Crossthem off. Now think, Murgatroyd, think, was there one of those peoplewho definitely wasn’t there?”

Miss Murgatroyd jumped slightly as a branch knocked against the openwindow. She shut her eyes. She murmured to herself….

“The flowers … on the table … the big armchair … the torch didn’t comeround as far as you, Hinch—Mrs. Harmon, yes….”

The telephone rang sharply. Miss Hinchcliffe went to it.

“Hallo, yes? The station?”

The obedient Miss Murgatroyd, her eyes closed, was reliving the night ofthe 29th. The torch, sweeping slowly round … a group of people … the win-dows … the sofa … Dora Bunner … the wall … the table with lamp … thearchway … the sudden spat of the revolver….

“… but that’s extraordinary!” said Miss Murgatroyd.

“What?” Miss Hinchcliffe was barking angrily into the telephone. “Beenthere since this morning? What time? Damn and blast you, and you onlyring me up now? I’ll set the S.P.C.A. after you. An oversight? Is that allyou’ve got to say?”

She banged down the receiver.

“It’s that dog,” she said. “The red setter. Been at the station since thismorning—since this morning at eight o’clock. Without a drop of water!

And the idiots only ring me up now. I’m going to get her right away.”

She plunged out of the room, Miss Murgatroyd squeaking shrilly in herwake.

“But listen, Hinch, a most extraordinary thing … I don’t understand it….”

Miss Hinchcliffe had dashed out of the door and across to the shedwhich served as a garage.

“We’ll go on with it when I come back,” she called. “I can’t wait for youto come with me. You’ve got your bedroom slippers on as usual.”

She pressed the starter of the car and backed out of the garage with ajerk. Miss Murgatroyd skipped nimbly sideways.

“But listen, Hinch, I must tell you—”

“When I come back….”

The car jerked and shot forwards. Miss Murgatroyd’s voice came faintlyafter it on a high excited note.

“But, Hinch, she wasn’t there. …”