worry about being too punctilious. Her name is almost certainly on the lips of the whole Rainbow Club in that connection, if not of every club in London. Sir Eustace is not a reticent man.'
'I can assure Mr. Bradley,' said Miss Dammers with irony, 'that Sir Eustace's standard of honour falls a good deal short of his own.'
'In this case,' Mr. Bradley told them, unmoved, 'I think not.'
'How is that?'
'Because I'm quite sure that apart from my unconscious informant, and Sir Eustace, and myself, there is nobody who knows of the connection at all. Except the lady, of course,' added Mr. Bradley punctiliously. 'Naturally it would not have escaped her.'
'Then how did you find out?' demanded Miss Dammers.
'That,' Mr. Bradley informed her equably, 'I regret that I'm not at liberty to say.'
Roger stroked his chin. Could there be another one of whom he had never heard? In that case, how would this new theory of his continue to stand up?
'Your so close parallel falls to the ground, then?' Mrs. Fielder - Flemming was stating.
'Not altogether. But if it does, I've got another just as good. Christina Edmunds. Almost the same case, with the insanity left out. Jealousy - mania. Poisoned chocolates. What could be better?'
'Humph! The mainstay of your last case, I gathered,' observed Sir Charles, 'or at any rate the starting - point, was the choice of nitrobenzene. I suppose that, and the deductions you drew from it, are equally important to this one. Are we to take it that this lady is an amateur chemist, with a copy of Taylor on her shelves?'
Mr. Bradley smiled gently. 'That, as you rightly point out, was the mainstay of my last case, Sir Charles. It isn't of this one. I'm afraid my remarks on the choice of poison were rather special pleading. I was leading up to a certain person, you see, and therefore only drew the deductions which suited that particular person. However, there was a good deal of possible truth in them for all that, though I wouldn't rate their probability quite as high as I pretended to do then. I'm quite prepared to believe that nitrobenzene was used simply because it's so easy to get hold of. But it's perfectly true that the stuff's hardly known as a poison at all.'
'Then you make no use of it in your present case?'
'Oh, yes, I do. I still think the point that the criminal not so much used it as knew of it to use, is a perfectly sound one. The reason for that knowledge should be capable of being established. I stuck out before for a copy of some such book as Taylor as the reason, and I still do. As it happens this good lady has got a copy of Taylor.'
'She is a criminologist, then?' Mrs. Fielder - Flemming pounced.
Mr. Bradley leaned back in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. 'That, I should think, is very much open to question. Frankly, I'm puzzled over the matter of criminology. Myself, I don't see that lady as an ' - ist' of any description. Her function in life is perfectly obvious, the one she fulfilled for Sir Eustace, and I shouldn't have thought her capable of any other. Except to powder her nose rather charmingly, and looked extremely decorative, but all that's part and parcel of her real raison d'etre. No, I don't think she could possibly be a criminologist, any more than a canary - bird could. But she certainly has a smattering of criminology, because in her flat there's a whole bookshelf filled with works on the subject.'
'She's a personal friend of yours, then?' queried Mrs. Fielder - Flemming, very casually.
'Oh, no. I've only met her once. That was when I called at her flat with a brand - new copy of a recently published book of popular murders under my arm, and represented myself as a traveller for the publisher soliciting orders for the book; might I have the pleasure of putting her name down? The book had only been out four days, but she proudly showed me a copy of it on her shelves already. Was she interested in criminology, then. Oh, yes, she simply adored it; murder was too fascinating, wasn't it? Conclusive, I think.'
'She sounds a bit of a fool,' commented Sir Charles.
'She looks like a bit of a fool,' agreed Mr. Bradley. 'She talks like a bit of a fool. Meeting her at a tea - fight, I should have said she is a bit of a fool. And yet she carried through a really cleverly planned murder, so I don't see how she can be a bit of a fool.'
'It doesn't occur to you,' remarked Miss Dammers, 'that perhaps she never did anything of the sort?'
'Well, no,' Mr. Bradley had to confess. 'I'm afraid it doesn't. I mean, a comparatively recent discarded mistress of Sir Eustace's (well, not more than three years ago, and hope dies hard), who thinks no small champagne of herself and considers murder too fascinating for words. Well, really!
'By the way, if you want any confirmatory evidence that she had been one of Sir Eustace's lady - loves, I might add that I saw a photograph of him in her flat. It was in a frame that had a very wide border. The border showed the word 'Your' and conveniently cut off the rest. Not 'Yours,' notice, but 'Your.' I think it's a reasonable assumption that something quite affectionate lies under that discreet border.'
'I have it from his own lips that Sir Eustace changes his mistresses as often as his hats,' Miss Dammers said briskly. 'Isn't it possible that more than one may have suffered from a jealousy - complex?'
'But not, I think, have possessed a copy of Taylor as well,' Mr. Bradley insisted.
'The criminological - knowledge factor seems to have taken the place in this case of the nitrobenzene factor in the last,' meditated Mr. Chitterwick. 'Am I right in thinking that?'
'Quite,' Mr. Bradley assured him kindly. 'That, in my opinion, is the really important clue. It's so emphasised, you see. We get it from two entirely different angles, the choice of poison and the reminiscent features of the case. In fact we're coming up against it all the time.'
'Well, well,' muttered Mr. Chitterwick, reproving himself as one might who had been coming up against a thing all the time and never even noticed it. There was a short silence, which Mr. Chitterwick imputed (quite wrongly) to a general condemnation of his own obtuseness.
'Your list of conditions,' Miss Dammers resumed the charge. 'You said you hadn't been able to check all of them. Which does this woman definitely fulfil, and which haven't you been able to check?'
Mr. Bradley assumed an air of alertness. 'No. 1, I don't know whether she has any chemical knowledge. No. 2, I do know that she has at least an elementary knowledge of criminology. No. 3, she is almost certain to have had a reasonably good education (though whether she ever learnt anything is quite a different matter), and I think we may assume that she was never at a public - school. No. 4, I haven't been able to connect her with Mason's notepaper, except in so far as she has an account at Mason's; and if that is good enough for Sir Charles, it's good enough for me. No. 5, I haven't been able to connect her with a Hamilton typewriter, but that ought to be quite easy; one of her friends is sure to have one.
'No. 6, she could have been in the neighbourhood of Southampton Street. She tried to establish an alibi, but bungled it badly; it's full of holes. She's supposed to have been in a theatre, but she didn't even get there till well past nine. No. 7, I saw an Onyx fountain - pen on her bureau. No. 8, I saw a bottle of Harfield's Fountain - Pen Ink in one of the pigeon - holes of the bureau.
'No. 9, I shouldn't have said she had a creative mind; I shouldn't have said that she had a mind at all; but apparently we must give her the benefit of any doubt there is. No. 10, judging from her face, I should say she was very neat with her fingers. No. 11, if she is a person of methodical habits she must feel it an incriminating point, for she certainly disguises it very well. No. 12, this I think might be amended, to 'must have the poisoner's complete lack of imagination.' That's the lot.'
'I see,' said Miss Dammers. 'There are gaps.'
'There are,' Mr. Bradley agreed blandly. 'To tell the truth, I know this woman must have done it because really, you know, she must. But I can't believe it,'
'Ah!' said Mrs. Fielder - Flemming, putting a neat sentence into one word.
'By the way, Sheringham,' remarked Mr. Bradley, 'you know the bad lady.'
'I do, do I?' said Roger, apparently coming out of a trance. 'I thought I might. Look here, if I write a name down on a piece of paper, do you mind telling me if I'm right or wrong?'
'Not in the least,' replied the equable Mr. Bradley. 'As a matter of fact I was going to suggest something like that myself. I think as President you ought to know who I mean, in case there is anything in it.'
Roger folded his piece of paper in two and tossed it down the table. 'That's the person, I suppose.'
'You're quite right,' said Mr. Bradley.
'And you base most of your case on her reasons for interesting herself in criminology?'
'You might put it like that,' conceded Mr. Bradley.
In spite of himself Roger blushed faintly. He had the best of reasons for knowing why Mrs. Verreker - le - Mesurer professed such an interest in criminology. Not to put too fine a point on it, the reasons had been almost
