Nest of Vipers

that time.’

‘But you assumed that Miss Minnie wrote the letters?’

‘She was the kind of queer old party who would,’ said Hempseed.

‘No mention was made at the inquest about a typewriter being found in the bungalow after Miss Minnie’s death,’ said Cassie, ‘but that proves nothing. She would have got rid of it as soon as there was talk about sending for the police. We made our intentions very clear, although we didn’t really mean to carry them out.’

‘Then they were hardly intentions. I have heard rumours of a ghostly visitant to some of the flats before Miss Minnie’s death. Was this another manifestation of Miss Nutley’s nocturnal wanderings?’

‘I shouldn’t think so,’ said Hempseed. ‘Niobe’s in-and-out-the-windows all happened after Chelion’s arrest, and were caused by that.’

‘So you didn’t have any night visitor while Miss Minnie was alive?’

‘No, we didn’t,’ replied Hempseed. ‘The ghost, so-called, seems to have intruded on Billie and Elysee and on Niobe herself. Otherwise it (or she) merely prowled up and down the stairs. I believe one or two people swore it had come into their rooms, but people will imagine anything when there’s a scare on.’

‘Was there really a scare?’

The couple exchanged glances and then Cassie said, ‘I think two people found the anonymous letters a lot more frightening than the ghost, although I suppose everybody has some skeleton or other in the cupboard.’

‘But nobody except the two young women was sufficiently disturbed by the letters to give up living here.’

‘Well, it’s not all that easy to find a decent place you can rent, and, as I say, people talked about getting the letters and that took the sting out of them, of course. And, by the way, I was not referring to the girls. Billie was livid, not scared.’

‘Do you know where the girls went?’

‘No. Niobe wanted to find out and to make a fuss about their going, but I suppose the lawyers told her to drop it.’

‘And they left before Miss Minnie was drowned?’

‘It doesn’t mean they couldn’t have sneaked back and drowned her,’ said Hempseed. ‘Billie Kennett struck me as a girl who was capable of anything if her precious Elysee was threatened.’

‘That’s an opinion,’ said Cassie, ‘that only a man would hold and it’s most unfair.’

(4)

‘You heard all that, I expect, George,’ said his employer, when the couple had gone.

‘Literary ladies and gentlemen seldom lower their voices, madam. I could not help overhearing what was said.’

‘Quite. Have you encountered any of the outdoor staff at this place, George?’

‘Yes, madam. There is a taciturn but knowledgeable individual who cleans the cars belonging to the establishment and in summer keeps the lawns in order. Other gardeners are employed on a part-time basis, but this man Penworthy is permanent.’

‘I wonder whether you could engage him in conversation on the subject of sea-bathing?’

‘Readily, madam.’

‘So far, you see, it appears that nobody except Mr Piper has used the beach here for swimming, and he only in the summer months.’

‘It is not, perhaps, the most attractive of beaches, madam.’

‘We are hardly seeing it at its best at this time of year, but even so, I think you are right.’

‘Would there be any specific question you want Penworthy to answer, madam?’

‘If my far-fetched theory should turn out to be a fact, there will be no need to lead him.’

Two days elapsed before George was able to make a report. When he did, he prefaced it by asking respectfully:

‘Had you anything to go on, madam, in forming your theory?’

‘Oh, yes, I suppose so,’ Dame Beatrice replied. ‘The woman had drowned; the body was fully-clothed; death by drowning in sea water had taken place some time previous to the discovery of the body, and the face had been badly disfigured after death. Well, what have you to tell me?’

‘Apart from Mr Piper, who swam every day up to about the middle of October, the only person to enquire about bathing from the beach here was a Miss Kennett, but she never actually took to the water. She and a woman friend, it seems, left the house before the murder was discovered.’

‘But not, perhaps, before it had been committed, one is left to infer.’

‘As to that, I could not say, madam. It seems that Miss Kennett and her friend ran a small car which Penworthy kept tuned up for them. They used it mainly for business purposes, and he got to know both ladies quite well. Miss Kennett asked about bathing from the beach and confided to him that it was (in her expression) mucky, a description with which he agreed, although he said it was safe enough for swimming.’

‘And nobody else swam from the beach?’

‘He says not, so far as his knowledge goes, and as he’s always about the place tending the lawn and tidying up those high banks behind this bungalow, I think he would know, madam.’