'It was a beastly thing to happen,' said Rhoda. 'It's broken Anne up, Mrs. Oliver. She's awfully sensitive. And I think you're quite right. It would be ever so much better to do something than just to sit here thinking about it all.'
'Of course it would,' said Mrs. Oliver. 'To tell you the truth a real murder has never come my way before. And to continue telling the truth I don't believe real murder is very much in my line. I'm so used to loading the dice – if you understand what I mean. But I wasn't going to be out of it and let those three men have all the fun to themselves. I've always said that if a woman were the head of Scotland Yard -'
'Yes?' said Rhoda, leaning forward with parted lips. 'If you were head of Scotland Yard what would you do?'
'I should arrest Doctor Roberts straight away -'
'Yes?'
'However, I'm not the head of Scotland Yard' said Mrs. Oliver, retreating from dangerous ground. 'I'm a private individual -'
'Oh, you're not that,' said Rhoda, confusedly complimentary.
'Here we are,' continued Mrs. Oliver, 'three private individuals – all women. Let us see what we can do by putting our heads together.'
Anne Meredith nodded thoughtfully. Then she said, 'Why do you think Doctor Roberts did it?'
'He's that sort of man,' replied Mrs. Oliver promptly.
'Don't you think, though -' Anne hesitated. 'Wouldn't a doctor – I mean, something like poison would be so much easier for him.'
'Not at all. Poison – drugs – of any kind would point straight to a doctor. Look how they are always leaving cases of dangerous drugs in cars all over London and getting them stolen. No, just because he was a doctor he'd take special care not to use anything of a medical kind.'
'I see,' said Anne doubtfully.
Then she said, 'But why do you think he wanted to kill Mr. Shaitana? Have you any idea?'
'Idea? I've got any amount of ideas. In fact that's just the difficulty. It always is my difficulty. I can never think of even one plot at a time. I always think of at least five, and then it's agony to decide among them. I can think of six beautiful reasons for the murder. The trouble is I've no earthly means of knowing which is right. To begin with perhaps Shaitana was a moneylender. He had a very oily look. Roberts was in his clutches and killed him because he couldn't get the money to repay the loan. Or perhaps Shaitana ruined his daughter or his sister. Or possibly Roberts is a bigamist and Shaitana knew it. Or possibly Roberts married Shaitana's second cousin and will inherit all Shaitana's money through her. Or – how many have I got to?'
'Four,' said Rhoda.
'Or – and this is a really good one – suppose Shaitana knew some secret in Roberts's past. Perhaps you didn't notice, my dear, but Shaitana said something rather peculiar at dinner, just before a rather queer pause.'
Anne stooped to tickle a caterpillar. She said, 'I don't think I remember.'
'What did he say?' asked Rhoda.
'Something about – what was it – an accident and poison. Don't you remember?'
Anne's left hand tightened on the basketwork of her chair.
'I do remember something of the kind,' she said composedly.
Rhoda said suddenly, 'Darling, you ought to have a coat. It's not summer, remember. Go and get one.'
Anne shook her head. 'I'm quite warm.'
But she gave a little shiver as she spoke.
'You see my theory,' went on Mrs. Oliver. 'I daresay one of the doctor's patients poisoned himself by accident, but of course, really, it was the doctor's own doing. I daresay he's murdered lots of people that way.'
A sudden color came into Anne's cheeks. She said, 'Do doctors usually want to murder their patients wholesale? Wouldn't it have rather a regrettable effect on their practice?'
'There would be a reason, of course,' said Mrs. Oliver vaguely.
'I think the idea is absurd,' said Anne crisply. 'Absolutely absurdly melodramatic.'
'Oh, Anne!' cried Rhoda in an agony of apology. She looked at Mrs. Oliver. Her eyes, rather like those of an intelligent spaniel, seemed to be trying to say something. 'Try and understand. Try and understand,' those eyes said.
'I think it's a splendid idea, Mrs. Oliver,' Rhoda said earnestly. 'And a doctor could get hold of something quite untraceable, couldn't he?'
'Oh!' exclaimed Anne.
The other two turned to look at her.
'I remember something else,' she said. 'Mr. Shaitana said something about a doctor's opportunities in a laboratory. He must have meant something by that.'
'It wasn't Mr. Shaitana who said that.' Mrs. Oliver shook her head. 'It was Major Despard.'
A footfall on the garden walk made her turn her head.
'Well,' she exclaimed. 'Talk of the devil.'
Major Despard had just come round the corner of the house.
Chapter 13
SECOND VISITOR
At the sight of Mrs. Oliver, Major Despard looked slightly taken aback. Under his tan his face flushed a rich brick red. Embarrassment made him jerky. He made for Anne. 'I apologize, Miss Meredith,' he said. 'Been ringing your bell. Nothing happened. Was passing this way. Thought I might just look you up.'
'I'm so sorry you've been ringing,' said Anne. 'We haven't got a maid – only a woman who comes in, in the mornings.'
She introduced him to Rhoda. Rhoda said briskly,
'Let's have some tea. It's getting chilly. We'd better go in.'
They all went into the house. Rhoda disappeared into the kitchen. Mrs. Oliver said, 'This is quite a coincidence – our all meeting here.'
Despard said slowly, 'Yes.'
His eyes rested on her thoughtfully – appraising eyes.
'I've been telling Miss Meredith,' said Mrs. Oliver, who was thoroughly enjoying herself, 'that we ought to have a plan of campaign. About the murder, I mean. Of course that doctor did it. Don't you agree with me?'
'Couldn't say. Very little to go on.'
Mrs. Oliver put on her 'how like a man' expression.
A certain air of constraint had settled over the three. Mrs. Oliver sensed it quickly enough. When Rhoda brought in tea, she rose and said she must be getting back to town. No, it was ever so kind of them but she wouldn't have any tea.
'I'm going to leave you my card,' she said. 'Here it is with my address on it. Come and see me when you come up to town and we'll talk everything over and see if we can't think of something ingenious to get to the bottom of things.'
'I'll come out to the gate with you,' said Rhoda.
Just as they were walking down the path to the front gate Anne Meredith ran out of the house and overtook them. 'I've been thinking things over,' she said. Her pale face looked unusually resolute.
'Yes, my dear?'
'It's extraordinarily kind of you, Mrs. Oliver, to have taken all this trouble. But I'd really rather not do anything at all. I mean – it was all so horrible. I just want to forget about it.'
'My dear child, the question is will you be allowed to forget about it?'
