losses from shop-lifting were rather above the average whilst he was with them. It seems likely that the shop- lifting wasn't entirely due to customers.'
'He was a picker up of unconsidered trifles, in fact?' said Miss Blacklog dryly. 'Then I was right in thinking that I had not seen him before?'
'You were quite right – no doubt you were pointed out to him at the Royal Spa Hotel and he pretended to recognise you. The Swiss police had begun to make his own country rather too hot for him, and he came over here with a very nice set of forged papers and took a job at the Royal Spa.'
'Quite a good hunting ground,' said Miss Blacklog dryly. 'It's extremely expensive and very well-off people stay there. Some of them are careless about their bills, I expect.'
'Yes,' said Craddock. 'There were prospects of a satisfactory harvest.'
Miss Blacklog was frowning.
'I see all that,' she said. 'But why come to Chipping Cleghorn? What does he think we've got here that could possibly be better than the rich Royal Spa Hotel?'
'You stick to your statement that there's nothing of especial value in the house?'
'Of course there isn't. I should know. I can assure you, Inspector, we've not got an unrecognised Rembrandt or anything like that.'
'Then it looks, doesn't it, as though your friend, Miss Bunner were right? He came here to attack you.'
('There, Letty, what did I tell you!'
'Oh, nonsense, Bunny.')
'But is it nonsense?' said Craddock. 'I think, you know, that it's true.'
Miss Blacklog stared very hard at him.
'Now, let's get this straight. You really believe that this young man came out here – having previously arranged by means of an advertisement that half the village would turn up agog at that particular time-'
'But he mayn't have meant that to happen,' interrupted Miss Bunner eagerly. 'It may have been just a horrid sort of warning – to you, Letty – that's how I read it at the time – 'A murder is announced' – I felt in my bones that it was sinister – if it had all gone as planned he would have shot you and got away – and how would anyone have ever known who it was?'
'That's true enough,' said Miss Blacklog. 'But-'
'I knew that advertisement wasn't a joke, Letty. I said so. And look at Mitzi – she was frightened, too!'
'Ah,' said Craddock, 'Mitzi. I'd like to know rather more about that young woman.'
'Her permit and papers are quite in order.'
'I don't doubt that,' said Craddock dryly. 'Scherz's papers appeared to be quite correct, too.'
'But why should this Rudi Scherz want to murder me? That's what you don't attempt to explain, Inspector Craddock.'
'There may have been someone behind Scherz,' said Craddock slowly. 'Have you thought of that?'
He used the words metaphorically though it flashed across his mind that if Miss Marple's theory was correct, the words would also be true in a literal sense. In any case they made little impression on Miss Blacklog, who still looked sceptical.
'The point remains the same,' she said. 'Why on earth should anyone want to murder me?'
'It's the answer to that that I want you to give me, Miss Blacklog.'
'Well, I can't! That's flat. I've no enemies. As far as I'm aware I've always lived on perfectly good terms with my neighbours. I don't know any guilty secrets about anyone. The whole idea is ridiculous! And if what you're hinting is that Mitzi has something to do with this, that's absurd, too. As Miss Bunner has just told you she was frightened to death when she saw that advertisement in the Gazette. She actually wanted to pack up and leave the house then and there.'
'That may have been a clever move on her part. She may have known you'd press her to stay.'
'Of course, if you've made up your mind about it, you'll find an answer to everything. But I can assure you that if Mitzi had taken an unreasoning dislike to me, she might conceivably poison my food, but I'm sure she wouldn't go in for all this elaborate rigmarole.
'The whole idea's absurd. I believe you police have got an anti-foreigner complex. Mitzi may be a liar but she's not a cold-blooded murderer. Go and bully her if you must. But when she's departed in a whirl of indignation, or shut herself up howling in her room, I've a good mind to make you cook the dinner. Mrs. Harmon is bringing some old lady who is staying with her to tea this afternoon and I wanted Mitzi to make some little cakes – but I suppose you'll upset her completely. Can't you possibly go and suspect somebody else?'
II
Craddock went out to the kitchen. He asked Mitzi questions that he had asked her before and received the same answers.
Yes, she had locked the front door soon after four o'clock. No, she did not always do so, but that afternoon she had been nervous because of 'that dreadful advertisement.'
It was no good locking the side door because Miss Blacklog and Miss Bunner went out that way to shut up the ducks and feed the chickens and Mrs. Haymes usually came in that way from work.
'Mrs. Haymes says she locked the door when she came in at 5:30.'
'Ah, and you believe her – oh, yes, you believe her…'
'Do you think we shouldn't believe her?'
'What does it matter what I think? You will not believe me.'
'Supposing you give us a chance. You think Mrs. Haymes didn't lock that door?'
'I thinking she was very careful not to lock it.'
'What do you mean by that?' asked Craddock.
'That young man, he does not work alone. No, he knows where to come, he knows that when he comes a door will be left open for him – oh, very conveniently open!'
'What are you trying to say?'
'What is the use of what I say? You will not listen. You say I am a poor refugee girl who tells lies. You say that a fair-haired English lady, oh, no, she does not tell lies – she is so British – so honest. So you believe her and not me. But I could tell you. Oh, yes, I could tell you!'
She banged down a saucepan on the stove.
Craddock was in two minds whether to take notice of what might be only a stream of spite.
'We note everything we are told,' he said.
'I shall not tell you anything at all. Why should I? You are all alike. You persecute and despise poor refugees. If I say to you that when, a week before, that young man come to ask Miss Blacklog for money and she sends him away, as – you say, with a flea in the ear – if I tell you that after that I hear him talking with Mrs. Haymes – yes, out there in the summerhouse – all you say is that I make it up!'
And so you probably are making it up, thought Craddock.
But he said aloud:
'You couldn't hear what was said out in the summerhouse.'
'There you are wrong,' screamed Mitzi triumphantly.
'I go out to get nettles – it makes very nice vegetables, nettles. They do not think so, but I cook it and not tell them. And I hear them talking in there. He say to her 'But where can I hide?' And she say 'I will show you' – and then she say, 'At a quarter-past six,' and I think, 'Ach so! That is how you behave, my fine lady! After you come back from work, you go out to meet a man. You bring him into the house.' Miss Blacklog, I think, she will not like that. She will turn you out. I will watch, I think, and listen and then I will tell Miss Blacklog. But I understand now I was wrong. It was not love she planned with him, it was to rob and to murder. But you will say I make all this up. Wicked Mitzi, you will say. I will take her to prison.'
Craddock wondered. She might be making it up.
But possibly she might not. He asked cautiously:
'You are sure it was this Rudi Scherz she was talking to?'
