'Usually I'm thankful for it, but this time it means we've got off to a bad start. Everybody else in the place knows about that second door in the drawing-room being used – and we only heard about it yesterday-'
'I still don't quite understand how-'
'It's perfectly simple. Our original premises were quite right. You can't hold open a door, wave a torch and shoot with a revolver all at the same time. We kept in the revolver and the torch and cut out the door. Well, we were wrong. It was the revolver we ought to have cut out.'
'But he did have a revolver,' said Miss Murgatroyd. 'I saw it. It was there 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 person put a couple of poisoned aspirin tablets by Letty Blacklog's bed – and thereby bumped off poor Dora Bunner. And that couldn't have been Rudi Scherz, because he's as dead as a doornail. It was someone who was in the room that night of the holdup and probably someone who was at the birthday party, too. And the only person that lets out is Mrs. Harmon.'
'You think someone put those aspirins there the day of the birthday party?'
'Why not?'
'But how could they?'
'Well, we all went to the loo, didn't we?' said Miss Hinchliffe coarsely. 'And I washed my hands in the bathroom because of that sticky cake. And little Sweetie Easterbrook powdered her grubby little face in Blacklog's bedroom, 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 going 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 follow him to see if he really is going where you think he is going. It wouldn't be delicate! Anyway, don't argue, Murgatroyd. I want to get back to the original attempt on Letty Blacklog. Now, to begin with, get the facts firmly 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 brains with 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't try. Now pay attention. This is what happened. Whoever it is that's got it in for Letty Blacklog was there in that room that evening. He (I say he because it's easier, but there's no reason why it should be a man more than a woman except, of course, that men are dirty dogs), well, he has previously oiled that second door that leads out of the drawing-room and which is supposed to be nailed up or something. Don't ask me when he did it, because that confuses things. Actually, by choosing my time, I could walk into any house in Chipping Cleghorn and do anything I liked there for half an hour or so with no one being the wiser. It's just a question of working out where the daily women are and when the occupiers are out and exactly 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 a sound. Here's the set-up: Lights go out, door A (the regular door) opens with 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 by door B into the dark hall, comes up behind that Swiss idiot, takes a couple of shots at Letty Blacklog and then shoots the Swiss. Drops the revolver, where lazy thinkers like you will assume it's evidence that the Swiss did the shooting, and nips back into the room again by the time that someone gets 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 anything at all. I don't really, Hinch!'
'Use that fluff of yours you call a brain. To begin with, where was everybody when the lights went out?'
'I don't know.'
'Yes, you do. You're maddening, Murgatroyd. You know where you were, 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 about yourself with your feet. You'll give yourself blood poisoning one of these days. Come on, now – you're behind the door. I'm standing against the mantelpiece with my tongue hanging out for a drink. Letty Blacklog is by the table near the archway, getting the cigarettes. Patrick Simmons has gone through the archway into the small room where Letty Blacklog has had the drinks put. Agreed?'
'Yes, yes, I remember all that.'
'Good, now somebody else followed Patrick into that room or was just starting to follow him. One of the men. The annoying thing is that I can't remember whether it was Easterbrook or Edmund Swettenham. Do you remember?'
'No, I don't.'
'You wouldn't! And there was someone else who went through to the small room; Phillipa Haymes. I remember that distinctly because I remember noticing what a nice flat back she has, and I thought to myself 'that girl would look well on a horse.' I was watching her and thinking just that. She went over to the mantelpiece in the other room. I don't know what it was she wanted there, because at that moment the lights went out.
'So that's the position. In the far drawing-room are Patrick Simmons, Phillipa Haymes, and either Colonel Easterbrook or Edmund Swettenham – we don't know which. Now, Murgatroyd, pay attention. The most probable thing is that it was one of those three who did it. If anyone wanted to get out of that far door, they'd naturally take care to put themselves in a convenient place when the lights went out. So, as I say, in all probability, it's one of those three. And in that case, Murgatroyd, there's not a thing you can do about it!'
Miss Murgatroyd brightened perceptibly.
'On the other hand,' continued Miss Hinchliffe, 'there's the possibility that it wasn't one of those three. And that's where you come in, Murgatroyd.'
'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 were standing behind the door. You couldn't look at the torch – because the door was between you and it. You were facing the other way, the same way as the torch was pointing. The rest of us were just dazzled. But you weren't dazzled.'
'No – no, perhaps not, but I didn't see anything, the torch went round and round-'
'Showing you what? It rested on faces, didn't it? And on tables? And on chairs?'
'Yes – yes, it did… Miss Bunner, her mouth wide open and her eyes popping out of her head, staring and blinking.'
'That's the stuff!' Miss Hinchliffe gave a sigh of relief. 'The difficulty there 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? Nobody sitting down?'
'No, of course not that. Miss Bunner with her mouth open and Mrs. Harmon was sitting on the arm of a chair. She had her eyes tight shut and her knuckles all doubled up to her face – like a child.'
'Good, that's Mrs. Harmon and Miss Bunner. Don't you see yet what I'm getting 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 important point which is, was there anyone you didn't see. Got it? Besides the tables and the chairs and the chrysanthemums and the rest of it, there were certain people; Julia Simmons, Mrs. Swettenham, Mrs. Easterbrook – either Colonel Easterbrook or Edmund Swettenham – Dora Bunner and Bunch Harmon. All right, you saw Bunch Harmon and Dora Bunner. Cross them off. Now think, Murgatroyd, think, was there one of those people who
