'What made you suppose that Mr Piper had a key to the bungalow and could let himself in whenever he chose?'
'Oh, well, he was the landlord, wasn't he?'
'I understood that Miss Nutley was the possessor of a master-key.'
'Somebody was. Did you hear about our ghost?'
'It seems that Miss Minnie may have been the intruder.'
'That was Niobe Nutley's idea. Something about a missing will. If there was such a thing, and Piper knew of it, he might have wanted the old girl out of the way. The only thing is that I can't imagine him smashing up her face after he had killed her. Very nasty, that, you know. Still, if he hasn't got all his marbles, that might explain it.'
'Black humour?' said Dame Beatrice thoughtfully. 'Not a perquisite of elderly women, one would have imagined.' And her thoughts turned to the elfin Mandrake Shard again. He was a far more likely 'black' humorist than Miss Minnie, she decided.
Chapter 8
Niobe, All Tears
'I HAVE heard some very disturbing news,' said Dame Beatrice, having opened the door of Niobe's office in response to a notice which read: Please ring and Enter.
'Oh, really, Mrs Farintosh? I am sorry to hear that. I hope it does not mean that you want to leave us? Your contract, which I modified greatly, at your request, from our usual three-year agreement, has more than a month to run.'
'Oh, I shall honour it so far as the rent is concerned, of course. The question is whether I can bring myself to stay. I consider that you ought to have informed me before I took up my tenancy.'
'Of what, Mrs Farintosh?'
'That the owner of Weston Pipers, Mr piper himself, is being remanded in custody under suspicion of having murdered one of the tenants.'
'But I thought that was common knowledge, Mrs Farintosh. It has been in all the papers. Besides, Mr Piper is innocent. Nobody who knows him has the slightest doubt about that.'
'But if he did not do this dreadful thing, that only makes matters worse.'
'How so? - oh, do please sit down.'
'The murderer may still be living here. In that case nobody is safe,' said Dame Beatrice, seating herself and lowering her voice.
'The murderer was a burglar or a tramp. You need have no fear that he is still on the premises,' said Niobe sharply.
'Then why has Mr Piper been arrested?'
'Oh, there were suspicious circumstances, of course, but I am sure they will all be cleared up at the trial. It is the time of waiting that is so trying. I need - I need your sympathy, Mrs Farintosh, not a threat to leave me. I am having to cope all alone. It is not easy for me, this period of bearing full responsibility. I am accountable to Mr Piper - to Chelion -' her eyes filled with tears - 'while he is in this dreadful predicament. So far, I have been able to prevail upon most of the tenants to stay, and Mr Moore and his - er - his wife have even returned from America - he has been on a lecture tour over there, you know - and are taking up their option on their flat.'
'I have met Mr and Mrs Moore, of course. They are a charming couple.'
'He is the distinguished Canadian-Irish poet,' Niobe wiped her eyes and essayed a smile.
'Is he a descendant of the Thomas Moore who wrote the delightful Irish Melodies and was Lord Byron's biographer?'
'I could not say, but I should think it very likely.'
'Did the Moores know that murder was committed here while they were away? It might have affected their willingness to return if they did know, don't you think?'
'No, I don't,' said Niobe shortly. 'The burglar or tramp, or whatever, killed that old lady in the bungalow, not in the house. The house is completely protected.'
'Oh, but I was told that the poor woman was drowned in the sea.'
'Oh, well, yes, of course, but the body was found in the bungalow. That is one of the reasons why the police thought -' she sniffed dolorously - 'they thought Chelion had done it. They said that an outsider would have left the body in the sea so that the outgoing tide could carry it away. We have thirty-foot tides here, you see. The water comes almost up to the lawn at high tide and then goes out ever so far.'
'So I have noticed. You have not resolved my apprehensions. The house itself may be burglar-proof, but that is beside the point. One does not spend the whole of one's time behind a locked door. You not only omitted to tell me that Mr Piper is a suspected murderer; you even allowed me to rent the bungalow for my manservant.'
'You suggested it yourself! It was for your own convenience that you housed him in the bungalow. Good heavens,' cried Niobe, beginning to weep again, 'if every house which has had a dead body in it were never to be lived in again, more than half the population would be homeless!'
'A dead body is one thing, Miss Nutley. A murdered body is quite another. You should have told me.' (I am being completely unscrupulous, thought Dame Beatrice, but murder is not a thing to be too nice about.)
'Well, I'm sure I'm very sorry you were not told, but I have a responsibility to Mr Piper - to Chelion - while this wretched time goes on. If everybody thought as you do, he would be coming back to an empty house, his livelihood gone,' Niobe began to weep again.
'Oh, the rents are his livelihood, are they? I was given to understand that he was a wealthy man in his own right,' said the unsympathetic listener.
'I don't know who told you so, but, be that as it may, I am still responsible for the lettings,' snapped
