curious reference to that electric meter in the other cottage.
But it still didn't explain the problem.
'It doesn't explain,' Dick declared aloud, 'how the murderer got his physical body out of a locked room, leaving Sam De Villa there! And the room is still locked. And Sam, I'll take my oath, had been dead only a very few minutes when I arrived.'
Just as before. The puzzle remained unchanged.
In a leisurely way Major Price got out pipe and tobacco-pouch. His cropped sandy head, like a Prussian's, was inclined forward; his eyes grew keen with interest
'Who,' he asked in a sharper tone, 'is Sam De Villa?'
And Dick woke up.
'Look here, Major: you've got to excuse met I was so jarred by something that's just happened that I've been babbling away aloud. And the fact is, you know, I've got no right to be talking. If you understood why ...'
'My dear chap! None of my business! Unless -'
‘Unless?'
'Unless it concerns one of my clients, of course.' Major Price punched tobacco into the pipe-bowl with a large thumb. 'Village opinion now seems about divided between suicide and murder. I - er - can't say.'
'It was just a brain-wave of mine,' Dick explained. 'But I'm afraid it doesn't amount to anything. No, confound it! The only person who's made an intelligent suggestion so far is Bill Earnshaw.'
Major Price's whale-like back grew rigid.
' Earnshaw,' he said,' made an intelligent suggestion ?'
'Yes! And I wonder why Dr Fell hasn't looked into it! Earnshaw said -'
'My dear chap,' the major interposed stiffly, 'I really don't think I care to hear about it All that surprises me is that Earnshaw made what you call an intelligent suggestion.'
'Look here, Major! Are you and Bill still at loggerheads?'
The sandy eyebrows went up.
'Loggerheads? I don't understand that. But it does seem a pity, after all, if a chap who prides himself on his sense of humour can't take a harmless joke without wanting to make a personal issue of it.' - 'Was this the joke you played on Earnshaw at the shooting-range yesterday? What was the joke, by the way?'
'Doesn't matter! Doesn't matter at all!' The pipe was filled to Major Price's satisfaction, but a red bar showed across his amiable forehead. He still held himself stiffly as he sat on the sofa.' I didn't come here to talk about that. I did come here - if you'll excuse me-'
' I'm afraid, Major, you'll have to excuse
'Exactiy,' said Major Price, and consulted the pipe. Then he looked up. 'Do you know what time it is now?'
Dick glanced at a useless wrist-watch.
'It's twenty minutes to nine,' Major Price told him. 'And I think you were due at the gal's place, for cocktails, at half-past seven ?
'Now stop a bit!' urged the major, lifting his hand as Dick began to make a beeline to get upstairs. 'It's all very well to start hurrying now. All very well! But the question is, my dear chap: will you find her at home when you do get there?'
Dick stopped dead.
'Meaning what?'
With a shake of his head Major Price devoted close attention to the top of the pipe.
'I speak,' he said, 'as a man old enough to be the father of both of you. And as a friend. No offence meant. But, dash it all, you know, I wish to blazes you'd do the thing right one way or the other! Is it true, or isn't it, that Mrs Rackley saw you and Cynthia Drew up to no good in Lesley's blasted bedroom to-day?'
It was the very grotesqueness of this, at a time like the present, which took Dick aback.
' I tell you,' he said,' there was absolutely no ...!'
'Of course not, my dear chap! I quite understand! At the same time -'
'Mrs Rackley told Lesley about it?'
'Yes. Especially when you didn't turn up at half-past seven, or at eight, or even at half-past eight. And another thing.' Major Price put the pipe in his mouth. 'Has Cynthia been down there,' he nodded his head towards the other cottage, 'down there with you all this time?'
'Cynthia left, with Bill Earnshaw, an hour ago.'
'If you'd only telephoned, my dear chap!'
'Listen, Major Price. There have been some very serious developments in this business, which threaten to turn the whole case upside down again. I can't tell you any more than that, except that Hadley may be descending on Lesley at any minute' - he saw Major Price's thick-set figure stiffen - ' to ask her some questions.'
'Really? You don't tell me!'
' I only got away myself because Hadley and Dr Fell are in the middle of an argument, and ...' 'Argument about what?'
'For one thing, about distillation of prussic acid. And how easy it is from non-poisonous ingredients you can buy at any chemist's. But most of it wasn't either audible or clear. Anyway, I can easily explain to Lesley!'
Major Price spun the wheel of a lighter and lit his pipe.
'My dear chap,' he said, 'all I can tell you is that the girl is very upset and rather hysterical. She must have been through a lot to-day, though she won't' - his forehead darkened '- she won't even confide in her legal adviser. If you want to do her a good service, you'll cut along there straightaway.'
'Looking like this?'
The major was emphatic.
'Yes. Looking like that. It's a bit diplomatically late, you know, to use the phone now.' Dick went.
As he turned out into the lane again and headed west towards the village, he could faintly hear a murmur of voices approaching behind him. They were the voices of Dr Fell and Superintendent Hadley, still arguing.
If these two were on their way to Lesley's themselves at this minute, with further questions for a girl whom Major Price described as already very upset and rather hysterical, then Dick meant to get there first. And then - what?
He didn't know. No doubt there was some innocent explanation of why Bert Miller swore he saw Lesley beside the cottage in the middle of the night; Dick shut up his mind and refused to think about this, because he told himself he would not go through the same anguish, only to have it naturally explained, twice in one day. But he quickened his step nevertheless.
Three or four minutes brought him to the High Street. Lesley's house was very close now.
A wraith of pink sunset lingered behind these roof-tops, making a slate gleam here or silhouetting chimney- stacks there. But dusk filled the High Street, which lay entirely deserted. Those inhabitants of Six Ashes not to be found at the 'Griffin and Ash-tree' would be at home, getting ready to switch on the nine o'clock news.
Dick turned to the right out of Gallows Lane, crossed the road, and walked at long strides along the brick- paved path which served as a pavement for the High Street.
Here was Lesley's house, set back behind its chestnut trees, with a good stretch of grass on each side as well. No lights showed now behind its thick, drawn curtains except upstairs in the bedroom; but a tiny porch-light shone out over the front door. Dick halted at the front gate, looking left and right.
The only dwelling nearby (if it could be called a dwelling at all) was the post office next door. Dick, looking towards his right, saw this weather-boarded little building in all its lack of dignity.
Two dingy plate-glass windows, with a door between and slots for letters and parcels under one window, faced the High Street. In the front premises, Miss Laura Feathers combined her postal duties with a sketchy drapery-business which never seemed to sell anything. In the straggling back-premises, Miss Laura Feathers made her home. The post office always closed at six - malcontents said before six - and it was closed now, dark blinds drawn down on door and windows, with an air of defying customers as a fort would defy attackers.
Dick looked at it without curiosity in the mild summer dusk.
From somewhere not far away, a late lawn-mower was whirring drowsily. Dick put Miss Laura Feathers out of his mind. He opened the front gate. He started up the path to see Lesley.
