told it. I resumed my task, however, when Dame Beatrice said, ‘Well, we have mentioned some of the women who were at Beeches Lawn. What about the others?’
‘I don’t see any way of choosing between them,’ said Coberley. ‘The two unmarried girls are less likely murderers than Mrs Wotton, perhaps, simply because they were not only younger than she, but, because of that very fact, possibly had their fiances under firm control. A fiancee is always stronger in most respects than a wife. No, on the whole I plump for Celia Wotton.’
‘What Coberley does not know,’ I said to Dame Beatrice when we got outside, ‘is that Kate McMaster had exactly the same motive as Celia Wotton for detesting Gloria Mundy. Before his marriage McMaster had a caper with her. One of the husbands-to-be picked her up at a night-club, the other on board a cruise liner, but that seems to have been the only difference. Kate McMaster would have known the address of Beeches Lawn because McMaster came to see me there.’
‘Yes, but she could not have known that Miss Mundy was to go there.’
‘Did you get anything helpful from Coberley?’ I asked.
‘I found the whole interview very interesting,’ she replied, ‘particularly the importance he attaches to the eleventh Commandment.’
‘Oh, about telling lies? In time of trouble thou shalt tell a lie, a good lie, and stick to it. Yes, indeed. Incidentally, I had to exercise a lot of self-control to avoid telling him what I thought of him for accusing Celia Wotton. I respect and admire her and it was hurtful to think that anybody should accuse her of stabbing another woman in the back.’
‘Some women do it metaphorically, of course. He was very frank in confessing that he could not furnish himself with any kind of an alibi, but, as I think we are agreed, no alibi is of use, either to the police or the person under suspicion, until we know when the murder actually took place. Being a shrewd man, he has worked that out for himself. Have you your luggage with you?’
‘Yes. I’m not going back to my hotel — or, rather, to one of McMaster’s hotels. I have finished the job I was doing for him and shall send him the last bit of my work tomorrow when I’ve gone through it and done any necessary typing at home. I will also type out today’s shorthand and send it to you.’
‘If you can spare the time, why not bring it to me and stay for a couple of days? We can find plenty of material for conversation and Laura will like to hear our combined account of today’s visit. I am interested in Mr Coberley’s assertion that the murder was committed by a woman.’
‘What is your own opinion about that? You said that women were capable metaphorically of stabbing one another in the back, but it might be much more difficult for them to bring themselves to do it physically, don’t you think?’
‘It might depend upon the sharpness of the weapon, the physical energy of the murderess and her knowledge of anatomy,’ said Dame Beatrice, pretending to misunderstand me.
‘I recoil from the idea of a woman plunging cold steel into another woman,’ I said.
‘A typical masculine reaction, but the squeamishness becomes you. Shall I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then, at lunch? Can you get your work finished by then?’
‘Oh, yes, easily, and I can post it to McMaster on my way to you.’
‘Before we meet again, I should be glad if you would turn over in your mind everything which happened between Gloria Mundy’s invasion — I use the word advisedly, for that is what it seems to have been — and the discovery of the charred body. Will you do that and prepare yourself to answer any questions which it may occur to me to put to you?’
‘Certainly, and thank you for the invitation. Has Coberley convinced you of his own innocence?’
‘By no means. The evidence against him may be slight, but it must be taken into account.’
12
Recapitulation with Surprise Ending
« ^ »
I enjoyed my two days at the Stone House. The three of us discussed the salient facts of what had taken place at Beeches Lawn so far as our knowledge of them went, and I charged my memory with making out a timetable in the hope that it would reveal to us the day on which the murder had taken place.
‘But it won’t tell us
‘Let us have your timetable,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘You were at Beeches Lawn before the rest of us arrived and you stayed longer than anybody else.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I got down to Beeches Lawn on the Thursday. I had taken some work with me and I was all set for a quiet, pleasant week. Anthony seemed glad to see me and Celia was charming, so that was fine.
‘Friday was an equally peaceful day. Anthony showed me round the estate, but then (to my regret at the time) I heard that an influx of weekend visitors was expected and on the Saturday they began to arrive.
‘On Sunday I was shown the interior of the old house. Coberley, who had the key, took me inside, warned me about the rickety staircase and showed me the nude portrait. I thought at once — at least, I believe I did — of Gloria Mundy, whose remarkable hair McMaster, the man I was working for, had described to me shortly before. Anyway, the picture was not a portrait of Gloria, but it must have been that of an ancestress of hers, and I’m sure it lends credence to her claim to be a distant relative of Anthony Wotton. It seems to me that his great-grandfather had an illegitimate child by the girl in the portrait and that the peculiar hair had been passed down to Gloria.’
‘Miss Brockworth, you told me, thought that Miss Mundy wore a wig in imitation of the hair in the portrait,’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘Then the wig was a fairly recent acquisition,’ I said. ‘She certainly didn’t wear a wig when her lover or lovers
