The Secret of Annexe 3

'You don't know so?'

'No.'

'You say Ballard had his arms round these two women?'

'No, he had one arm round one woman and one —'

'Which two women?'

'Mrs. Palmer was one — I'm fairly sure of that.'

'And the other one?'

'I think it was. . Mrs. Smith.'

'You'd had quite a lot to drink, hadn't you!'

Sarah Jonstone's pale face coloured deeply; and yet perhaps it was, that morning, more from anger than from shame. 'Oh yes!' she said, in a firm, quiet voice, 'I don't think you'll find a single person in the hotel who would disagree with that.'

'But you saw the women fairly clearly?' (Morse was beginning to appreciate Miss Jonstone more and more.)

'I saw them clearly from the back, yes.'

'It was snowing, wasn't it?'

'Yes.'

'So they had their coats on?'

'Yes. Both of them had light-coloured winter macs on.'

'And you say'—Morse referred to her statement—'that the other three members of the annexe sextet were just behind them?'

Sarah nodded.

'So, if you're right about the first three, that leaves us with Mrs. Ballard, Mr. Palmer and Mr. . Smith — yes?'

Sarah hesitated — and then said 'Yes!'—then pushed her spectacles up once more towards her luminous eyes.

'And behind them all came Mr. Binyon?'

'Yes — I think he was going to make sure that the side door to the annexe was locked up after them.'

'That's what he says, too.'

'So it might be true, Inspector.'

But Morse appeared not to have heard her. 'After Mr. Binyon had locked up the annexe, no one else could have got in there?'

'Not unless he had a key—'

'Or she had a key!'

'Or she had a key, yes.'

'But anyone could have got out of the annexe later on?'

Again Sarah hesitated before answering. 'Yes, I suppose so. I hadn't really thought of it, but — yes. The lock's an ordinary Yale one, and any of the guests could have got out, if they'd wanted to.'

It was Lewis who, at this point, made an unexpected intervention.

'Are you absolutely sure it was snowing then. Miss Jonstone?'

Sarah turned towards the sergeant, feeling relieved to look into a pair of friendly eyes and to hear a friendly voice. And she wasn't quite sure, now she came to think of it. The wind had been blowing and lifting up the settled snow in a drifting whirl around her window; and whether it had been snowing, at that particular moment, she wasn't really prepared to assert with any dogmatism.

'No,' she said simply. 'I'm not absolutely sure.'

'It's just,' continued Lewis, 'that according to the weatherman on Radio Oxford the snow in this area had virtually stopped falling just about midnight. There may have been the odd flurry or two; but it had pretty well finished by then — so they say.'

'What are you trying to get at, Sergeant? I'm not. . quite sure. .'

'It's just that if it had stopped snowing, and if someone had left the annexe that night, there would have been some footprints, wouldn't there? Wouldn't such a person have to make his way across to the main road?'

Sarah was thinking back, thinking back so very hard. There had been no prints the next morning leading from the annexe across to the Banbury Road. None! She could almost swear to that. But had it been snowing when she looked out that fateful evening? Yes, it had!

Thus it was that she answered Lewis simply and quietly. 'No, there were no footprints from the annexe to be seen that morning — yesterday morning. But yes, it was snowing when I looked out — I'm sure of it.'

'You mean that the weatherman at Radio Oxford has got things all wrong, miss?'