Death and the Maiden

kindly blocked up.’

‘Really?’

‘And next day you all had those bruises.’

‘Even Connie!’ said Mr Tidson with meaning. ‘Yes, even Connie,’ Mrs Bradley agreed.

‘But only one person entered the room that night?’

‘Precisely. Only one person.’

‘Coincidence,’ said Mr Tidson, with a shrug.

‘She must have had a very long arm to black four people’s eyes on the same morning,’ said Gavin. Mr Tidson turned round on him at once.

‘In a city which harbours a naiad in a chalk stream, anything may happen,’ he said in a tone of reproof; but before he could continue he heard Thomas come into the vestibule, and, breaking off his remarks, he darted to the door to waylay him.

‘There is one more thing,’ said Mrs Bradley, when Mr Tidson, having demanded an ABC time-table from Thomas, had gone off to the lounge to peruse it. She described the early-morning walk on which she had followed Crete Tidson out of the town.

‘And somebody in a car brought her a letter?’ said Gavin. ‘What do you make of it? – an assignment? She’s a very beautiful woman, and Tidson isn’t very exciting, I imagine.’

‘Well, whatever I make of it,’ said Mrs Bradley, ‘this peculiar case is mostly guess-work.’

‘Then you do make something of it? – Come on! You agreed to put your cards on the table.’

‘Right. I should not be at all surprised if the letter did not contain a message from Connie Carmody.’

‘But isn’t Miss Connie Carmody supposed to dislike and distrust the Tidsons? I understood that she was afraid of Mr Tidson, in fact.’

‘She gave that impression, but their interests in some matters are the same.’

‘You mean she is jealous of the boy, young Preece-Harvard, and the Tidsons want his money? I’d like to have a look at that letter.’

‘There is no need to trouble about that. I can guess what was in it. You might be able to trace the man who brought the letter, but I don’t really think that is necessary. If the letter was what I think, we shall prove it from the Tidsons’ reactions, particularly those of Crete. I should not be surprised if she is getting rather tired of the business.’

‘She wouldn’t give the whole thing away if we pressed her hard, I suppose?’

‘I doubt it. It would make her an accessory. Besides, whatever she might tell us, I doubt whether she could prove it. The murderer has made one bad although unavoidable mistake, but I don’t think Crete was there, and I don’t think she knows how significant it was.’

‘How do you mean – a bad mistake?’

‘In killing the second boy. I don’t think that was part of the original plan.’

‘I see. This lad Biggin might have seen the first murder committed, I suppose. He must have been sleeping out, from what we can gather. Is that what you mean?’

‘I should say there was little doubt of it. The boy was in hiding, as you say, from the authorities, and may easily have seen what was done. He may even have tried to threaten the murderer on the strength of it.’

‘It’s a plausible theory, anyway. But why kill the first boy? Why have murdered young Grier?’

‘To show how easy it was to kill and not be found out, perhaps!’

‘That’s not what you really think. There must be a stronger motive.’

‘Well, there may be an additional motive, but we’ve nothing to go on. No obvious motive arises, as far as the evidence goes.’

‘You’re right there! Nothing adds up. What do you make of the dog?’

‘I think Tidson was the first who found it. It was where the second body was found, or near enough—’

‘How do you know Tidson found it? That seems to me rather far-fetched.’

‘It wouldn’t if you had seen him fishing with that old boot to draw a crowd of children to the spot, as Kitty, Laura and Alice did. He wanted the dog to be found and a certain inference to be drawn—’

‘Of course! That the dog had been killed by a sadistic lunatic, and that the same person had killed the boy!’

‘Exactly!’

‘Well, if you’re right, I should say the whole thing’s in the bag. Tidson himself is the murderer, wicked old man! Somehow, I always thought he was. Now, how are we going to get him? I can ask him how he came to get soaked through that night, but he’s sure to have some plausible excuse to give me.’

‘He will stick to the story about his nymph,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘By the way, I think Connie killed the dog.’

‘You do?’

‘Yes. A good thing for Mr Tidson, I should say. The dog may have saved his life.’

‘Oh, substitution of some sort?’

‘Yes, and rationalization. Her hatred of Mr Tidson is dangerously deep.’

‘But when did she do it?’

‘Since she has been staying in Lewes. You have only to ask at the hotel which night she did not sleep there. Of course, they may not know, but it would be well worth trying.’

‘Thanks for the tip. But still, the dog isn’t those boys.’

‘Nevertheless, cave canem,’ said Mrs Bradley.

* Italicised words are peculiar, I believe, to Winchester College, and mean respectively holiday, work, evening preparation, idling.

* Line. 115. Translated by D. W. Lucas and F. J. A. Cruso.

Chapter Seventeen

‘They enquired after Nancy very civilly and sent Compts. . . . It was an awkward day for visiting . . .’

Diary of a Country Parson: the REVEREND

JAMES WOODFORDE, Vol. 3, 1788–1792.

Edited by JOHN BERESFORD

‘SO THAT young Connie was telling lies about hating the Tidsons,’ said Laura, when the report from Lewes had come in, and Connie’s messenger had been named by the police of that ancient and interesting town, who, incidentally, had nothing whatever against him. ‘I should never have thought it!’

‘And you need not think it now,’ said Mrs Bradley. She and her secretary were again alone at the Domus, for the Tidsons and Miss Carmody had departed (with the full complement of luggage, this time) and with them, in the sense that they had caught the same train and were not due to return to Winchester that summer, had gone Kitty and Alice. ‘If we could find Connie’s letter it might throw some light upon her relationship with the Tidsons, although not very much, I imagine, but I still do not believe there is any love lost. And now I think that you and I, child, should return to Kensington, calling for Connie first and taking her with us. A short course of your bracing society will be the very thing for her, I imagine. We must re-orient her mind.’

Laura looked disappointed.

‘Cheer up,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘We can do no more here for the present, so nothing is lost by our return. The rest lies with the police.’

‘But what about those stones? The weapons, you know,’ said Laura. Mrs Bradley shrugged.

‘The police will find them,’ she said. ‘But there is one more thing we have to do,