The Murder of Busy Lizzie

did the smugglers expect to manage when the holiday tenants turned up?’

‘According to Allen Cranby, they had ample notice from Miss Crimp to get rid of the merchandise and hide it elsewhere when it was known that people were coming in.’

‘Yes, but where?’

‘In that locked-up old lighthouse on the east cliff, he thinks.’

‘Oh, yes. The Lovelaine kids told me they tried to get into it and couldn’t.’

‘That certainly seems to lend weight to his theory, especially as the other old lighthouse seems to have been open to the public’

‘There were that man and woman who were up on the gallery when Mrs Chayleigh’s body was spotted. I still think the witches are all part and parcel of the smuggling racket, you know.’

‘Then why did the smugglers need to find another hiding-place when the witches took over the cave?’

‘Oh, because not all the witches were in with the smugglers, of course. You see,’ said Laura, warming to her argument, ‘it’s so odd that those two bird-watchers were the first people to spot the body. If you ask me what I think, I think they’re a fishy couple. What were they doing up on that gallery, anyway?’

‘Watching for birds, I suppose.’

‘And spotting Eliza Chayleigh’s body. Don’t you call that a suspicious circumstance?’

‘Somebody had to spot it,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘What I would like to be able to confirm is the identity of the female relative of old Miss Chayleigh who was dispossessed by Eliza, I wonder whether Mr Lovelaine would know who it was?’

‘You don’t think that, if he does, we shall know the name of Eliza Chayleigh’s murderer, do you?’

‘Far from it, dear child. To suspect is not to know.’

‘Could it be somebody who actually lives on this island? The dead pig rather indicates that, don’t you think? There’s that empty sty at the end of Dimbleton’s garden. Is that worth investigating? Incidentally, do you really think everybody on the island knows about the smuggling?’

‘I could not say. A great many do, no doubt, and a great many more may suspect. The island is a very small place.’

‘What else did you glean from Allen Cranby?’

‘Nothing of any moment, so far as I can tell at present.’

‘You didn’t ask him whether Miss Crimp was mixed up in the smuggling racket? I still think that’s why she was in Dimbleton’s cottage that day talking about fish.’

‘I did not put the question to Allen Cranby, although I expect he could answer it if he chose.’

‘You were going to tell me about a question you did put to him, though. You said he admitted attacking inoffensive little Professor Lovelaine.’

‘Yes, so he did. He claimed that he had mistaken him for somebody else.’

‘Did you believe him?’

‘No, but I did not say so.’

‘Why do you think he did go for him?’

‘I think he feels that Marius Lovelaine was unduly favoured as a result of Eliza’s death. He may even hold him partly responsible for it.’

‘You couldn’t explain that to me, could you? I don’t feel so very bright at the moment.’

‘You are not doing yourself justice. Besides, I can give no logical explanation of my theory. There is something I do not know.’

‘What sort of something?’

‘Merely the identity of the person whom Eliza Chayleigh met at Puffins when she was supposed to be crossing to the mainland.’

‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever find a name for that person. What do you make of this man the young Lovelaines complain of? — the fellow who tried to get into their chalet.’

‘I suppose that could have been some inebriate who had mistaken their lodging for his own.’

‘He seems to have made more than one attempt to get in. You don’t think it could be a vendetta directed against the Lovelaine family, do you?’

‘Well, perhaps it is just as well that the family have left the island. I wonder whether your question has solved my problem?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Is there a Mrs Lovelaine?’

‘Oh, yes. The kids call her Boobie. Apparently, from what they tell me, she’s capable of making the most fearful floaters and embarrassing one and all.’

‘Dear me! Do you suppose they left her at home in order to avoid these contingencies?’

‘No, she chose to stay behind. She went away before the others left and stayed with a cousin or something. It appears that she doesn’t — didn’t, I mean — love Eliza Chayleigh.’

‘Oh, dear, oh, dear!’

‘But how have I solved your problem? You don’t suppose Boobie disliked Eliza enough to pop over here and murder her before the others arrived?’

‘It would account for so much if she did,’ said Dame Beatrice thoughtfully, ‘but, although the thought is tempting, there is no proof except that Eliza must have met somebody here, and the chances are that that mysterious person was the murderer, or one of the murderers. Of course, apart from Mrs Lovelaine (whose movements, I admit, invite speculation) there are two obvious suspects.’

‘I agree about Miss Crimp.’

‘Who would, of course, have needed an accomplice.’

‘Yes, we’re pretty certain there must have been somebody else. Then isn’t there a chance the accomplice might be persuaded to turn Queen’s evidence?’

‘I think not in this case.’

‘Why not?’

‘I believe that the accomplice I have in mind would have been a most willing partner and had as good, although a different, reason for wishing that Eliza Chayleigh was dead.’

‘I can’t think who it is you’ve fixed on as the other murderer.’

‘And I am not going to name names until or unless I obtain the evidence I need.’

‘You might give me a hint. You’re not thinking of Allen Cranby as Eliza’s murderer, are you?’

‘I am not going to commit myself, but I will give you the hint you demand. Have you ever thought any more about those desecrated headstones in the churchyard?’

‘Sebastian and Margaret mentioned them to me, so of course I went and had a look at them. Somebody had had a shot at cleaning off the paint.’

‘That, I venture to think, was Ransome the churchman. There had been more vandalism, apart from those black magic slogans, had there not?’

‘Yes, but I don’t think it had anything to do with black magic.’

‘Some crude lettering, I believe you told me.’

‘That’s right. Somebody had tried to get rid of old Miss Chayleigh’s name on one of the tombstones and substitute Eliza’s.’

‘It proves nothing but vandalism, of course, but I am inclined to recognise it as a psychological pointer.’

‘But you think the accomplice had not the same motive as the murderer for wanting Eliza dead?’

‘No. As I see it, both nursed a grievance, but it was not the same grievance.’

‘And they decided to act at the same time? But why? And why wait years before they paid off the old score, whatever it was?’

‘I think the answer is that the Lovelaine family came to Great Skua at Eliza’s express invitation. That put the gunpowder among the smouldering fuel. Such, at any rate, is my theory.’

‘But if you know all this, why don’t you tell the police?’

‘You know the answer to that question.’

‘Well, but, if you’re pretty sure, the proof must exist somewhere. We’ve only got to