‘But if – for the sake of argument, mind! – if her mother had killed her?’
‘She would have preferred, of course, to have her found by the dog and by you (looking for the dog) than by going to the police to report her missing and perhaps inadvertently making some admission damaging to herself. All this is mere speculation, but there is a practical application which must have occurred to you even sooner than it occurred to me.’
‘And that is?’
‘That not only does Edward James not care for dogs, but, as human beings (for the most part) cannot detect any sound made by a dog-whistle, the inference is that nobody had ever heard Mrs Schumann’s particular call and so nobody could have imitated it in whistling up Fergus and leading him to the body. I have pointed this out to Superintendent Phillips.’
‘Wonder what made Fergus chase off like that, then? Still, Karen’s wasn’t the only death, and the dog wasn’t mixed up with any of the others. But, returning to Mrs Schumann, nobody could possibly think that these are a woman’s crimes, in spite of what I said about Mrs Schumann’s large hands. Besides, there’s still the question of motive. You haven’t given any reason why Mrs Schumann should have killed her only daughter. She was evidently very fond of her. It’s Otto, the son, she hates. Of course, family relationships can be very tricky things, and there’s no doubt Mrs Schumann thought James was far too old for Karen. You don’t think …’
‘Stranger things have happened, if I guess your thought correctly. Mrs Schumann is still in the prime of life and must be within a year or two of Edward James’s age. Then, of course, there is the five thousand pounds. Phillips has found that that was the handsome sum paid out on the premium bond.’
‘Well, yes, I know that some people would do anything for money. But, granted that Mrs Schumann could have had motives for killing Karen, there’s really nothing to connect her with the other two deaths. Look, supposing it had been physically possible for Otto to have murdered his sister, wouldn’t you suspect him of causing the other two deaths as well?’
‘In the case of Maria Machrado, I might suspect him. There seems no reason to suspect anybody in particular of the murder of the Italian maidservant, as you yourself have pointed out.’
‘Yet you’re convinced that we’re not chasing three murderers. You don’t think there can be more than two people responsible for these three deaths, and you’re pretty sure the number boils down to only one.’
‘What I think is not evidence. We are leaving out of account, of course, the mysterious notices left pinned to the bodies.’
‘By the way, what did you mean – it struck me that you had something special in mind – when you said that James answered what must have been an unexpected question without hesitation?’
‘It was to do with the numbers which followed the In Memoriam notices.’
‘Oh, yes, the fourth century anno Domini. Obviously it didn’t work out. He came across with a couple of dates which, as a theological student and a historian, he was bound to have met with before. You think that cleared him?’
‘If it did not, he is a cool customer or a quick thinker, and, of course, he may be both. We really know nothing about him.’
‘But you don’t really think Mrs Schumann is our murderer, do you?’
‘It was you who directed my attention to the size of her hands, but I repeat that what I think is not evidence.’
‘I’ll tell you what!’ exclaimed Laura suddenly. ‘What’s the objection to two murderers in collusion? I kill A, you kill B, and we both kill C just to confuse the issue? Wouldn’t that put an end to all our problems?’
‘One head is safer than two, when it comes to murder,’ said Dame Beatrice, ‘but I think you are right about the killing of C. It was done to confuse the police, and for no other reason.’
(7)
Dame Beatrice had meant what she said when she had spoken of not crossing the police line, but the murder of the Italian servant was so much more unreasonable than the first two deaths that she thought it would be well within her province in her official capacity to go along and talk to the Clancys.
She mentioned this to Phillips over the telephone and, having obtained their new address from him, she went to their penthouse flat in Southampton at a time when she concluded that Mrs Clancy, at any rate, was likely to have arrived home from school. She presented her credentials and was asked in.
The flat was a two-bedroom affair with a lounge-dining-room and a square kitchen, and was furnished with taste. The child and the dog were sent into the kitchen to play together.
‘He understands most things we say,’ said Mrs Clancy of her son, ‘and I don’t want him to hear about poor Lucia. He still misses her. We’ve told him she had to go home to look after her own little boy, but it doesn’t really satisfy him. The only thing about the whole dreadful business which makes me so thankful is that we took him with us. We had considered leaving him in her charge, you know, as we were only going away for such a short time. I daren’t think what would have happened if he’d been in the bungalow when it – when she—’
‘I’m afraid there’s not much doubt about what would have happened,’ said Dame Beatrice grimly. ‘I don’t want to bother you with all the questions the police have already asked you,’ she went on in a brisker tone, ‘but my point of view, owing to the nature of my work, may be different from theirs, so will you be good enough to tell me all you know about Lucia’s background before she entered your service?’
‘Yes, of course, but it amounts to very little. My husband had to change
