`There was something,' he said, feeling his voice a trifle unsteady. `The crossbow bolt didn't come from the collection here, and one of the warders said its pattern was late fourteenth century. Now, it isn't probable, is it, that Driscoll was really killed with a steel bolt made in thirteen hundred and something?' He hesitated. `I used to dabble a bit with arms and armour; one of the finest collections in the world is at the Metropolitan Museum in New York. In a bolt so old as that one, the steel would be far gone in corrosion. Would it be possible to get that bright polish and temper on the one used to kill Driscoll? It looks new. If I remember correctly, you have no arms exhibits here previous to the fifteenth century. And even your early fifteenth-century helmets are worn to a sort of rusty shell.'
There was a silence. `I begin to see,' nodded the chief inspector. `You mean that the bolt is of recent manufacture. And if it is ?'
`Well, sir, if it, is, who made it? Certainly there aren't many smiths turning out crossbow bolts of fourteenth- century pattern. It may be a curio of some kind, or there may be somebody who does it for amusement or for decorative purposes.'
Hadley made a note in his black book. -`It's a long shot,' he remarked, shaking his head, `but undoubtedly there's something in it. Good work! Now we come to my usually garrulous colleague, Dr Fell. What are your comments on the testimony we've heard?'
Dr' Fell cocked his head on one side. He seemed to meditate.
`Why, I'm afraid I wasn't paying a great deal of attention to it. However, I want to ask one question.' `That's gratifying. What is it?'
`This hat.' He picked up the topper. `I suppose you noticed. When it was put on the boy's head, it slid down over his ears. Of course, he's very, small, Sir William, and you're tall. But you have rather a long narrow head. Wasn't' it too large even for you?'
'Too… ' The other looked bewildered. `Why, no! No, it wasn't too large. Hold on, though. I remember now. When I was trying, on hats at the shop, I remember one I tried on, among others, was too large. But the one they sent me was quite all right: a good fit.'
`Well, would you mind putting this one on?'
For a moment Sir William seemed about to stretch out his hand, as General Mason took the hat from Dr Fell and passed it across. Then he sat rigid.
`You'll have to excuse me,' he said through his teeth. `I — sorry, but I can't do it.'
`Well, well, it's of no consequence,' Dr Fell said, genially. He took back the hat, pressed it down so that it collapsed, and fanned his ruddy face with it. `Not for the moment, anyhow. Who are your hatters?'
`Steele's, in Regent,' Street. Why?'
'Mrs Lester Bitton,'' said a voice at the door. The warder on guard pushed it open.
Mrs Bitton was not backward. She came into the room with an assurance which betokened a free stride, and she radiated energy. Mrs Bitton was a slim woman in the late twenties, with a sturdy, well-shaped figure like a swimmer's. She had level, rather shining brown eyes, a straight nose, and a humorous but determined mouth. Her light-brown hair was caught under the tilt of a tight blue hat; beneath a broad fur collar the tight-fitting coat showed off her full breasts and rather voluptuous hips..:. As she caught sight of Sir William she became less assured.
'Hallo!' she said. The voice was quick and self-determined. 'Bob didn't tell me you were here. I'm sorry you got here so soon.'
Sir William performed the introductions. Rampole set out a chair for her beside Hadley's desk.
'So you're Mr Hadley,' she observed, studying him with her bead slightly back. Then she looked at Sir William. `I've heard Will speak of you.' She made a cool inspection of everybody in the room, finally craning round the better to see Dr Fell. `And these are your inspectors or something. I'm afraid I kicked up rather a row across the way. But then I didn't know. Even when Bob told me… told me it was Phil, I didn't believe him.'
Despite her assurance Rampole got a definite impression that she was nervous.
`You know the circumstances, Mrs Bitton?' Hadley asked impassively.
`What Bob was able to tell me. Poor Phil! I'd like to..'
She paused, seeming to meditate punishments for a murderer. `Of course it was absurd asking me to fill out that silly paper. As though I had to explain:
`It was merely a matter of form. However, you under that all the people who were here near the time of the tragedy must be questioned.!
'Of course I understand that.' She looked at Hadley sharply. `When was Phil killed?'
`Well come to that in a moment, Mrs Bitton. Let's get things in order, if you don't mind…. To begin with, I dare say this isn't the first time you've visited the Tower? Naturally, you're interested in the — er — historic treasures of the place?'
A rather humorous look crept into her face. `That's- a gentleman's way of asking me my business:' Her eyes wandered to Sir William. `I imagine Will has already told you about me. He thinks I haven't any interest in musty ruins and things like that.'
General Mason was stung. The word `ruins' had shocked him. He took the cigar out of his mouth.
`Madam,' he interposed, warmly, `if you will excuse my reminding you.. '
`Certainly,' she agreed, with a bright smile, and looked back at Hadley. `However, that's not true. I do like them. I like to think about those people in armour, and the tournaments and things, and fights. But I was going to tell you why I was here. It wasn't the Tower exactly. It was the walk.'
`The walk?'
`I'm afraid, Mr Hadley,' she observed, critically, `that you don't walk enough. Good for you. Keeps you fit. Lester is getting a paunch that's why I take him on walking tours as often as he'll let me. We just came back yesterday from a walking trip in the West Country. So to-day I decided to walk from Berkeley Square to the Tower of London.
'I couldn't persuade Lester to go along, so I came down 1, here alone. And then I thought, 'So long as I'm here, I' might as well look at the place.'
'I see. Do you' remember what time you arrived?'
`One o'clock or some time afterwards, I fancy. I had a sandwich in the refreshment-room up by the gate. That was where I bought the tickets for the towers; three of 'em. A white one, a pink one, and a green one.'
Hadley glanced at General Mason. The latter said:
`For the White Tower, the Bloody Tower, and the Crown Jewels. There's an admission fee for those.'
`'M, — yes. Did you use these tickets, Mrs Bitton?'
For a moment, the movement of her full breast was quicker. Then her lip curled slightly.
`I had a look at the Crown jewels,' she replied, with no expression of candour. `They looked like glass to me. And I'll bet they're not real, either.'
General Mason's face had assumed a brickish hue, and a strangled noise issued from him.
`May I ask why you didn't use the other tickets, Mrs Bitton?'Hadley asked quickly.
'O Lord, how should I know? I changed my mind.' She slid her body about in the chair, seeming to have lost interest. But her eyes looked strained. `I did wander about a bit in that inner courtyard up there. And I talked to one nice old Beefeater.’
General Mason broke in with cold courtesy:
`Madam, may I, request you not to use that word? The guards at the Tower are called Yeoman Warders, not Beefeaters. The term is applied.. '
`I'm sorry. Of course I didn't know. You hear people talk, that's all. I pointed to that place where the stone slab is, where it says they used to chop people's heads off, you know, and I asked the Bee… the man, 'Is that where Queen Elizabeth was executed?' And he nearly fainted. He cleared his throat a couple of times, and said, 'Madam..er… Queen Elizabeth had not the honour to be… ah… I mean, Queen Elizabeth died in her bed.' And then reeled off a list of people who got their heads chopped off there; and I said, 'What did she die of?' and he said,
'Who, ma'am?' and I said, 'Queen Elizabeth' and he made a sort of funny noise.'
Hadley was not impressed. `Please keep to the subject, Mrs Litton. When did you leave?' '
`My dear man, I don't carry a watch. But I know that I came down from the parade-ground under the arch of that big place called the Bloody Tower. And I saw a group of people standing over by the rail around these steps, and there was a Beefeater who asked me if I would mind going on. So I suppose it was after you found… Phil.'
