‘Now, it was Boris’s job to wheel the body back to his house while Eulalia cleared up any traces of the murder which might remain-spots of blood, Juliet’s handbag which no doubt she would drop and so on. Then Eulalia was to give Boris a hand with lugging the dead girl-don’t forget she weighed sixteen stone-into the bathroom. Bogolepov’s place is a bungalow, so they wouldn’t have to carry the body upstairs. Then they were to strip the body and while Eulalia got to work, Boris would take Sir John’s wheel chair back to its shed and have another look round to make quite sure they hadn’t left any clues. All very efficient, you see, and well thought out.
‘In fact’ – Dover scratched his head thoughtfully – ‘if it had gone strictly according to plan, there’s a fair chance we might never have got our hands on ’em – well, we mightn’t have been able to bring it home to ’em, anyhow. But the unexpected happened. Eulalia was out waiting in the bushes with her bow and arrow, the wheel chair was standing ready and Boris was peering through his front-room window, ready to rush out and give a hand when the time came. They probably heard Gordon Pilley’s car drive off, and here was Juliet, walking, as they’d expected, up the drive. But, most unexpectedly, when she got level with the gate of Bogolepov’s garden, she turned in, marched up his path and rang the front-door bell. I reckon Boris, who was pretty keyed up with dope and excitement, just about dropped down dead himself with shock. However he managed to keep his head and opened the door. Juliet had just called with a message from Simkins, the chemist, in Creedon. Boris’s prescription, which he collected once a week on Wednesdays – and this was Tuesday night, remember – wouldn’t be ready this week until Friday morning. The prescription was actually Bogolepov’s supply of drugs which he got under the N.H.S., but of course Juliet wouldn’t know this. Boris wasn’t on the phone and Simkins had asked Juliet to give him the message so that he wouldn’t make an unnecessary trip the following morning.
‘Well, presumably, Boris thanked her for her kindness and said good night. Juliet went back down the path, out of the garden gate and then started up the drive again towards Sir John’s house. Eulalia, who must have been wondering what the hell was going on, remained as cool as a cucumber and when the girl came level with her, calmly shot her, as planned, clean through the heart with a genuine Australian aborigine bow and arrow.’
‘Weren’t they taking a terrible risk that somebody might see them?’
‘A bit, sir, but murder’s a risky business, when all’s said and done. Actually there wasn’t all that much danger. It’s very quiet up there and I think they’d have heard if anybody was knocking about. And then all the houses stand pretty far back from the drive and the trees provide a fair amount of cover. I don’t think anybody, looking casually out of a window at the wrong time, would actually have seen anything,
‘Anyhow, where was I? Oh yes, Eulalia gets a bull’s-eye on poor old Juliet and, right on cue, out pops Boris. They load the dead girl into the wheel chair and the whole thing goes off like clockwork.
‘Now, while Boris is returning the wheel chair to its shed and having a last look round, Eulalia sets to work with a carving knife. She’s apparently quite experienced in cutting up the dead bodies of animals for the pot and, as the pathologist fellow remarked, she did quite a good job on Juliet. Bogolepov’s bathroom was the ideal place, all pink tiles, covering the floor as well. There’s a little drain thing in the middle for the shower water to run down so it didn’t matter how much mess Eulalia made, really, because you could just swill the whole place down, walls and all. Very nice, that bathroom was,’ said Dover with envious reminiscence, ‘Wouldn’t mind one like that myself. All pink and black-very artistic. Shower as well and a little foot-bath thing – continental idea that, you know. Oh well,’ he sighed, ‘where was I?’
‘Miss Hoppold was dismembering Juliet Rugg in the pink and black bathroom,’ the Chief Constable prompted.
‘Oh yes. Well, that’s really all there is to it. She cut Juliet up into handy-sized joints, wrapped the pieces up neatly in that transparent paper stuff and packed them away in the deep freeze cabinet in Bogolepov’s kitchen. No wonder we couldn’t find the flaming body!’
‘And are you going to be able to prove all this?’ demanded the Chief Constable.
‘Oh, I reckon so,’ said Dover easily. ‘We’ve got Bogolepov’s statement first of all and, even if he tries to retract it in court, which he won’t, he’ll never get away with it. Then we can prove that Eulalia Hoppold has a tin of the same kind of oil as was used on the wheel chair. Your boys have been working on the bathroom and I’m pretty certain they’ll find traces of human blood somewhere – in a crack or something. It’s difficult stuff to get rid of, you know. Same with the bow and arrow. Eulalia hung ’em back on the wall with her other trophies when she’d finished with ’em – well cleaned, of course. Even if the lab. doesn’t find traces of blood on the arrow-head, the fact that it has been cleaned thoroughly is significant in itself. None of the other weapons had been.’
‘But, how did you get on to all this?’ asked the Chief Constable.
‘Well, it was pretty difficult,’ said Dover, anxious not to have his achievement played down. ‘Actually, they both slipped up and like all these flipping amateurs they couldn’t leave well alone. Silly fools tried to be clever and get a rise out of the police. Well’ – Dover sniffed triumphantly – ‘now they know better.’
‘All right,’ said the
