(For some reason, at this point, Sir Danvers Locke shuddered.)
'—and in the younger sister, perhaps, with nervous hysteria. I didn't know. I had to make sure. So on Wednesday evening, armed with the letter, I went out to the house in Gloucester Gate to ask questions.
'Ahead of me on the pavement,' and again Dr. Fell nodded toward Holden, 'I saw you bound for the same house.
'I had no idea who you were, or of your status in this affair. But you went in by the back way. I followed. I saw you go up those iron stairs to the balcony outside the drawing room. I saw you strike a light, and peer in through the window. I heard a girl scream (it was Doris Locke), and a man cry out It seemed so extraordinary that I followed you up.
'And what happened?
'Outside those windows I heard more of the wretched, pitiable story. The tangled livesl The enshrouding misery! I learned who you were. I heard Thorley Marsh, who sincerely believed Celia to be mad just as she believed him a sadistic brute, I heard Thorley Marsh beg and plead with you to go away. And the door opened. And Celia Devereux walked in.
Here Dr. Fell looked very steadily at Holden. 'Have you forgotten,' he asked, that you were supposed to be dead?'
Holden started to get up off the divan, but sat down again. Dr. Fell nodded toward Celia, who had turned her head away.
'Here is a girl,' he said, 'supposedly so neurotic that she is seeing ghosts everywhere. She has had no warning this man is alive. She really believes him dead. All she sees, in one terrifying flash, is his face looking at her against the light of a single lamp in a dark room.
'And yet—she knows.
'I see her again, standing against that door in her white dress. The nerves tell the brain; the brain tells the heart She does not even ask a question. She knows. 'They sent you on some special sort of job,' I hear her saying; 'that was why you couldn't see me or write to me.' And then, with a little nod, ‘Hello, Don.''
Holden would not have believed Dr. Fell's voice could be so gentle.
But Dr. Fell would not look at Celia. Ponderously he turned his head away. Removing his eyeglasses, he pressed his hand for a moment over his eyes before putting back the glasses. He addressed Locke and Dr. Shepton.
'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I write Q.E.D. and draw a flourish under it. If that girl is in the least neurotic, then I am the late Adolf Hitler. What does the prosecution say, what dares the prosecution say, in reply to that?'
There was a long silence.
'Well done!' said Locke, and struck his knee. 'Write your Q.E.D.! Well done!'
'You talk,' cried Dr. Shepton, 'as though—' He stopped. ' Prosecution!'' he added. 'You talk as though—'
'Yes?' prompted Dr. Fell.
'As though,' he spoke in a quavering voice, 'I wanted to harm Celia in some way!'
'Forgive me,' said Dr. Fell. 'I know you don't. And you were misled. Blame the girl, if you like, for telling lies. But in God's name let us have an end of these hush-hush methods which nearly did send her out of her mind and drove her to telling lies!'
'To—er—what do you refer by hush-hush methods?'
'The carefully cherished secret of Margot Marsh's hysteria, which ended in her murder. I am going on to explain that murder.'
Dr. Fell picked up his dead pipe.
'Let’s continue with the evidence of that same Wednesday evening. All this I heard and saw from the balcony outside the drawing room. Once (hurrum) I was nearly spotted. You may recall, my dear Holden, that on one occasion Thorley Marsh thought he heard somebody out on the balcony? In very truth he did.
'However!
'Having begun this business of shadowing, I continued it. When you and Celia left the house (forgive me again!), I followed you. You may perhaps have noticed the shadow, too large to be any but mine, which emerged after you when you crossed the street toward Regent's Park? In any case, one side of the park playground had an open side with an iron railed fence. Out of sight, beyond this, I heard the whole story,' he nodded toward Celia, 'from you.
'I heard it in blazing detail. In shades and nuances and hints which in their implications were staggering. By thunder, but it was a revelation!
'For if I postulated Margot Marsh as a hysteric, the approach of the storm could be seen with ugly clearness. About a year before her death, she changed. She became happy. Bright-eyed. Laughing and humming. Her own sister, not an observant person, says to her, You must have a lover.'
'The hundred-to-one chance had happened. The hysteric had met a man to whom she was suited. She was deeply and physically in love. The outward symptoms of hysteria disappeared, which is what always happens in such cases. But, instead of helping matters, it led inevitably to disaster.
'Why? Because she was bound to be thwarted! She wanted the person in question; wanted to marry him; and couldn't have him. For one thing, Thorley Marsh refused to allow a divorce.'
'Dr. Fell, listen!' interrupted Holden. 'That’s the one part of the whole affair which doesn't seem to be reasonable!' He glanced at Locke. 'Would you mind, now, if I did a little plain speaking?'
'I mind?' Locke's eyebrows went up. 'Why should I?'
'About Doris, I mean.'
'Oh. Doris. I see.' Locke's hands tightened round the glove and walking stick that lay across his lap. 'No. Not at all. Of course not!'
'In that case, Dr. Fell,' demanded Holden, 'where was the snag? If Thorley wanted to marry Doris, and Margot was violently in love with this other fellow, why couldn't there have been a compromise? Why did Thorley —of all people, in a situation like this—object to a divorce?'
'For the most powerful reason in the world,' replied Dr. Fell, 'which you will understand when you learn the whole truth. Let me emphasize this, though it may seem a bit cryptic to you now, by asking you a certain question. It is a serious question. Don't treat it lightly.'
'Well?' prompted Holden.
'Well,' said Dr. Fell, 'are you still jealous of Derek Hurst-Gore?' Dead silence.
In the quiet of that muffled room they could hear, from the outer room, the rustle and blowing of curtains at the open windows. Clean air crept even into the haze and smoke of this lair. Celia Devereux, startled, turned up pleading eyes.
'Don!' she cried. 'You didn't really think that I... that Derek and I.. ?'
'Please answer the question,' intoned Dr. Fell. 'Are you still jealous of Mr. Hurst-Gore?'
'No, I'm not,' Holden answered honestly. 'When I only heard about him, and even when I first met him, he put my teeth on edge. But that passed very quickly. I think he's quite a decent sort'
'Ah!' boomed Dr. Fell. His eyes opened wide. 'And why do you think that? Isn't it because you know, in your heart, that you're the favored suitor?'
Holden felt his cheeks grow hot. 'I shouldn't like to put it quite . . .'
'Come, sir! Isn't it?'
'Very well. It is. But what application has this got to Margot and Thorley?' Dr. Fell ignored the question.
'I need not stress the situation in the Marsh family,' he went on, 'since so much of it emerged in evidence yesterday. But think of the repressed violence, the hidden thunderbolts, crammed into it when that group went down to Caswall Moat House two days before Christmas!
'Many months before, the hysteric has met her lover. For a time all is serene. Then, in October, as we hear from Celia Devereux, violent rows break out between Mr. and Mrs. Marsh. They are heard behind closed doors. Thorley Marsh knows all about it, or has heard all about it I think we are safe in postulating, at this stage, that Mr. Marsh knew who the man was.'
'Why should you think that?' demanded Locke.
'Sir, your own daughter believes so,' answered Dr. Fell. 'She told Holden as much. If Margot wanted a
