Bunch was continuing. 'Severe affliction bravely borne. That's what Bunny said to you in the cafe and of course Letitia hadn't had any affliction. Iodine. That put you on the track of goitre?'
'Yes, dear. Switzerland, you know, and Miss Blacklog giving the impression that her sister had died of consumption. But I remembered then that the greatest authorities on goitre and the most skilful surgeons operating on it are Swiss. And it linked up with those really rather preposterous pearls that Letitia Blacklog always wore. Not really her style – but just right for concealing the scar.'
'I understand now her agitation the night the string broke,' said Craddock. 'It seemed at the time quite disproportionate.'
'And after that, it was Lotty you wrote – not Letty as we thought,' said Bunch.
'Yes, I remembered that the sister's name was Charlotte, and that Dora Bunner had called Miss Blacklog Lotty once or twice – and that each time she did so, she had been very upset afterwards.'
'And what about Berne and Old Age Pension?'
'Rudi Scherz had been an orderly in a hospital in Berne.'
'And Old Age Pension.'
'Oh, my dear Bunch, I mentioned that to you in the Bluebird though I didn't really see the application then. How Mrs. Wotherspoon drew Mrs. Bartlett's Old Age Pension as well as her own – though Mrs. Bartlett had been dead for years – simply because one old woman is so like another old woman – yes, it all made a pattern and I felt so worked up I went out to cool my head a little and think what could be done about proving all this. Then Miss Hinchliffe picked me up and we found Miss Murgatroyd…'
Miss Marple's voice dropped. It was no longer excited and pleased. It was quiet and remorseless.
'I knew then something had got to be done. Quickly! But there still wasn't any proof. I thought out a possible plan and I talked to Sergeant Fletcher.'
'And I have had Fletcher on the carpet for it!' said Craddock. 'He'd no business to go agreeing to your plans without reporting first to me.'
'He didn't like it, but I talked him into it,' said Miss Marple. 'We went up to Little Paddocks and I got hold of Mitzi.'
Julia drew a deep breath and said, 'I can't imagine how you ever got her to do it.'
'I worked on her, my dear,' said Miss Marple. 'She thinks far too much about herself anyway, and it will be good for her to have done something for others. I flattered her up, of course, and said I was sure if she'd been in her own country she'd have been in the Resistance movement, and she said, 'Yes, indeed.' And I said I could see she had got just the temperament for that sort of work. She was brave, didn't mind taking risks, and could act a part. I told her stories of deeds done by girls in the Resistance movements, some of them true, and some of them, I'm afraid, invented. She got tremendously worked up!'
'Marvellous,' said Patrick.
'And then I got her to agree to do her part. I rehearsed her till she was word perfect. Then I told her to go upstairs to her room and not come down until Inspector Craddock came. The worst of these excitable people is that they're apt to go off half-cocked and start the whole thing before the time.'
'She did it very well,' said Julia.
'I don't quite see the point,' said Bunch. 'Of course, I wasn't there-' she added apologetically.
'The point was a little complicated – and rather touch and go. The idea was that Mitzi whilst admitting, as though casually, that blackmail had been in her mind, was now so worked up and terrified that she was willing to come out with the truth. She'd seen, through the keyhole of the dining-room, Miss Blacklog in the hall with a revolver behind Rudi Scherz. She'd seen, that is, what had actually taken place. Now the only danger was that Charlotte Blacklog might have realised that, as the key was in the keyhole, Mitzi couldn't possibly have seen anything at all. But I banked on the fact that you don't think of things like that when you've just had a bad shock. All she could take in was that Mitzi had seen her.' Craddock took over the story.
'But – and this was essential – I pretended to receive this with scepticism, and I made an immediate attack as though unmasking my batteries at last, upon someone who had not been previously suspected. I accused Edmund-'
'And very nicely I played my part,' said Edmund. 'Hot denial. All according to plan. What wasn't according to plan, Phillipa, my love, was you throwing in your little chirp and coming out into the open as 'Pip.' Neither the Inspector nor I had any idea you were Pip. I was going to be Pip! It threw us off our stride for the moment, but the Inspector made a masterly comeback and made some perfectly filthy insinuations about my wanting a rich wife which will probably stick in your subconscious and make irreparable trouble between us one day.'
'I don't see why that was necessary?'
'Don't you? It meant that, from Charlotte Blacklog's point of view, the only person who suspected or knew the truth, was Mitzi. The suspicions of the police were elsewhere. They had treated Mitzi for the moment as a liar. But if Mitzi were to persist, they might listen to her and take her seriously. So Mitzi had got to be silenced.'
'Mitzi went straight out of the room and back to the kitchen – just like I had told her,' said Miss Marple.
'Miss Blacklog came out after her almost immediately. Mitzi was apparently alone in the kitchen. Sergeant Fletcher was behind the scullery door. And I was in the broom cupboard in the kitchen. Luckily I'm very thin.'
Bunch looked at Miss Marple.
'What did you expect to happen, Aunt Jane?'
'One of two things. Either Charlotte would offer Mitzi money to hold her tongue – and Sergeant Fletcher would be a witness to that offer, or else I thought she'd try to kill Mitzi.'
'But she couldn't hope to get away with that! She'd have been suspected at once.'
'Oh, my dear, she was past reasoning. She was just a snapping terrified cornered rat. Think what had happened that day. The scene between Miss Hinchliffe and Miss Murgatroyd. Miss Hinchliffe driving off to the station. As soon as she comes back Miss Murgatroyd will explain that Letitia Blacklog wasn't in the room that night. There's just a few minutes in which to make sure Miss Murgatroyd can't tell anything. No time to make a plan or set a stage. Just crude murder. She greets the poor woman and strangles her. Then a quick rush home, to change, to be sitting by the fire when the others come in, as though she'd never been out.
'And then came the revelation of Julia's identity. She breaks her pearls and is terrified they may notice her scar. Later, the Inspector telephones that he's bringing everyone there. No time to think, to rest. Up to her neck in murder now, no mercy killing – or undesirable young man to be put out of the way. Crude plain murder. Is she safe? Yes, so far. And then comes Mitzi – yet another danger. Kill Mitzi, stop her tongue! She's beside herself with fear. Not human any longer. Just a dangerous animal.'
'But why were you in the broom cupboard, Aunt Jane?' asked Bunch. 'Couldn't you have left it to Sergeant Fletcher?'
'It was safer with two of us, my dear. And besides, I knew I could mimic Dora Bunner's voice. If anything could break Charlotte Blacklog down – that would.'
'And it did…!'
'Yes… she went to pieces.'
There was a long silence as memory laid hold of them and then, speaking with determined lightness, to ease the strain, Julia said:
'It's made a wonderful difference to Mitzi. She told me yesterday that she was taking a post near Southampton. And she said (Julia produced a very good imitation of Mitzi's accent):
''I go there and if they say to me you have to register with the Police – you are an alien, I say to them, 'Yes, I will register! The Police, they know me well. I assist the Police! Without me the Police never would they have made the arrest of a very dangerous criminal. I risked my life because I am brave – brave like a lion – I do not care about risks.' 'Mitzi,' they say to me, 'you are a heroine, you are superb.' 'Ach! it is nothing, I say.''
Julia stopped.
'And a great deal more,' she added.
'I think,' said Edmund thoughtfully, 'that soon Mitzi will have assisted the Police in not one but hundreds of cases!'
'She's softened towards me,' said Phillipa. 'She actually presented me with the recipe for Delicious Death as a kind of wedding present. She added that I was on no account to divulge the secret to Julia, because Julia had ruined her omelette pan.'
'Mrs. Lucas,' said Edmund, 'is all over Phillipa now that since Belle Goedler's death, Phillipa and Julia have
