Spotted Hemlock

‘Yes. You mean Coles told Basil he’d killed Norah?’

‘Oh, no. The letter would have been anonymous. It came to college, was re-addressed by the secretary to the hospital we visited and was received, no doubt, by Mr Simnel. Mr Simnel must have had other letters addressed to Basil, but a store of fairly large envelopes, each bearing Basil’s Ulster address (under the name of Simnel), would soon have disposed of that difficulty. So, in a roundabout way, but ultimately, Basil received a curt intimation that the body of Norah Coles lay in the college cellar.’

‘I don’t see why Piggy Basil took any notice.’

‘No, but Norah Coles had to take notice. He was compelled to let her know that her sister was dead. Once the body was discovered, there was no knowing what complications might have arisen, so far as she was concerned. Besides, there were the other students to be considered—those who had held the fort for her, so to speak, by agreeing to pass off her sister as herself. Those students knew that Palliser was not Coles, and Coles could see no end to the business unless the fact of the death could be hidden. Mr Basil is weak. He is also, in his own way, a gentleman. He agreed to accompany her to the college. They put the body in the inside cellar, threw the coat in, and got rid of the bottles, no doubt. Then they retired to Basil’s cottage. But Norah Coles was still in a state of terror and begged him to help her move the body away from the college together.’

‘So we get our ghost?’

‘So we get our ghost, and, satisfied that all was for the best, the lovers returned to Ireland until Norah’s nerve gave way and caused her to haunt this neighbourhood for news.’

‘Can’t quite see why Piggy let himself in for such a business,’ said Laura. Dame Beatrice said:

‘Yes, you can. Why do you think he consented to help at all?’

‘Oh, of course! Norah was in such a state that he thought she must have sent the poison and the films herself. I suppose he jumped to the conclusion that the sister was blackmailing Norah. But, if he did, how does he account for the anonymous letter?’

‘I don’t suppose he tried to do so. He is not very intelligent.’

‘What do you make of all that damage done in the Calladale grounds soon after Carey took on Piggy’s job?’

‘I am convinced it was the work of a gang of hooligans, just as was thought at the time. There seems no other rational explanation. It had some small value, however—it began the discovery of the rats and the rhubarb. But for the rhubarb, remember, the body might still rest undiscovered.’

‘Yes, I see. So everything falls into place. The two of them, Basil and Norah, came back to the college and hid the body in the inner cellar. Then she got restless about it and made him move it. They must have had a terrible job. It was no joke for me to transport that student on that great carthorse, and I’d never have been able to get on its back in the dark without the help of that policeman. Could there have been a third party present to assist Piggy, do you think?’

‘I hardly think so. They would not have dared trust another person. Desperation is a wonderful fillip and, strong as you are, I feel sure Mr Basil is very considerably stronger.’

‘But the planning—the sheets and all that!’

‘The sheets came from Basil’s cottage, presumably, and the ghost-costume would not have taken long to make. Now that we have decided what happened, police enquiries could readily establish whether the two came here by train or by car, and when.’

‘I thought you’d taken Piggy under your protection!’

‘I did not say the police were to be asked to establish these facts.’

‘Oh, I see. Well, after all that, where is Norah, and what will happen when she’s found?’

This question was answered by the discovery of Coles’ body in the pottery room at the art school. The autopsy established that death had been caused by lead poisoning, resulting in a cerebral haemorrhage. The possibility of suicide was taken into account, but the coroner’s jury found that, as the deceased had been a potter and an amateur interior decorator, it was likely that an unsuspected allergy to lead, a poison associated closely with his work, had, in eighteenth-century parlance, carried him off.

The result of his death, so far as the enquiry into the murder of Carrie Palliser was concerned, was the dramatic reappearance of Norah Coles. Dame Beatrice, at home again in the Stone House, Wandles Parva, received a telephone call from Calladale College.

‘The Coles girl has turned up. Says she dared not come out of hiding while her husband was alive,’ stated Miss McKay. ‘Can you come and talk to her? She looks half-starved and is in a fine state of nerves, as you’d expect.’

The Coles girl was housed in the sanatorium when Dame Beatrice arrived. She was sallow and looked thoroughly ill, and was inclined to weep every time she tried to speak. She had been in hiding in Garchester since she had left Ireland. But for the fact that they believed she was dead, the police must have found her, although she had done as little shopping as she could, and that, she explained, at shops where she was not known.

As point after point was disclosed, Dame Beatrice’s theorising took the shape of fact. At last the girl said:

‘What’s going to happen to me now?’

‘Nothing,’ said Miss McKay, ‘if we can help it.’ She met Dame Beatrice’s eye with a challenging stare, to find that no challenge was necessary. ‘You’ll get to your work and make up the time you’ve lost. You’ve the makings of a respectable farmer if you put your mind to it. Respectable farmers are an asset to the community. People in prison for concealing deaths are not. Mr Basil is going abroad. Dame Beatrice has furnished him with funds. Not a bad sort of man, on the whole, but, of course, he can’t come back here.’

Dame Beatrice nodded slowly.

‘You’re much too good,’ said the girl; she began a noisy sobbing.

‘Of course we are!’ said Miss McKay, snappishly. ‘What did you suppose we should be?’

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