the Bonaventure Memorial. It was a fairly steep ascent and people usually climbed it at a different pace from each other. The younger ones very often ran or walked ahead and reached their destination much earlier than the others. The elderly ones took it slowly. She herself usually kept at the rear of the party so that she could, if necessary, suggest to people who were tired that they could, if they liked, go back. Miss Temple, she said, had been talking to a Mr and Mrs Butler. Miss Temple, though she was over sixty, had been slightly impatient at their slow pace and had out-distanced them, had turned a corner and gone on ahead rather rapidly, which she had done often before. She was inclined to get impatient of waiting for people to catch up for too long, and preferred to make her own pace. They had heard a cry ahead, and she and the others had run on, turned a curve of the pathway and had found Miss Temple lying on the ground. A large boulder detached from the hillside above where there were several others of the same kind, must, they had thought, have rolled down the hillside and struck Miss Temple as she was going along the path below. A most unfortunate and tragic accident.
'You had no idea there was anything but an accident?'
'No, indeed. I can hardly see how it could have been anything but an accident.'
'You saw no one above you on the hill-side?'
'No. This is the main path round the hill but of course people do wander about over the top. I did not see anyone that particular afternoon.'
Then Joanna Crawford was called. After particulars of her name and age Dr Stokes asked,
'You were not walking with the remainder of the party?'
'No, we had left the path. We'd gone round the hill a little higher up the slope.'
'You were walking with a companion?'
'Yes. With Mr Emlyn Price.'
'There was no one else actually walking with you?'
'No. We were talking and we were looking at one or two of the flowers. They seemed of rather an uncommon kind. Emlyn's interested in botany.'
'Were you out of sight of the rest of the party?'
'Not all the time. They were walking along the main path, some way below us, that is.'
'Did you see Miss Temple?'
'I think so. She was walking ahead of the others, and I think I saw her turn a corner of the path ahead of them after which we didn't see her because the contour of the hill hid her.'
'Did you see someone walking above you on the hillside?'
'Yes. Up amongst a good many boulders. There's a sort of great patch of boulders on the side of the hill.'
'Yes,' said Dr Stokes, 'I know exactly the place you mean. Large granite boulders. People call them the Wethers, or the Grey Wethers sometimes.'
'I suppose they might look like sheep from a distance but we weren't so very far away from them.'
'And you saw someone up there?'
'Yes. Someone was more or less in the middle of the boulders, leaning over them.'
'Pushing them, do you think?'
'Yes. I thought so, and wondered why. He seemed to be pushing at one on the outside of the group near the edge. They were so big and so heavy I would have thought it was impossible to push them. But the one he or she was pushing seemed to be balanced like a rocking stone.'
'You said first he, now you say he or she, Miss Crawford. Which do you think it was?'
'Well, I thought, I suppose, I suppose I thought it was a man, but I wasn't actually thinking at the time. It was – he or she was, wearing trousers and a pullover, a sort of man's pullover with a polo neck.'
'What colour was the pullover?'
'Rather a bright red and black in checks. And there was longish hair at the back of a kind of beret, rather like a woman's hair, but then it might just as well have been a man's.'
'It certainly might,' said Dr Stokes, rather drily. 'Identifying a male or female figure by their hair is certainly not easy these days.' He went on, 'What happened next?'
'Well, the stone began to roll over. It sort of toppled over the edge and then it began to gain speed. I said to Emlyn, 'Oh it's going to go right over down the hill.' Then we heard a sort of crash as it fell. And I think I heard a cry from below but I might have imagined it.'
'And then?'
'Oh, we ran on up a bit and round the corner of the hill to see what had happened to the stone.'
'And what did you see?'
'We saw the boulder on the path with a body underneath it and people coming running round the corner.'
'Was it Miss Temple who uttered the cry?'
'I think it must have been. It might have been one of the others who was catching up and turned the corner. Oh! it was, it was horrible.'
'Yes, I'm sure it was. What had happened to the figure you'd seen above? The man or woman in the red and black pullover? Was that figure still there among the stones?'
'I don't know. I never looked up there. I was – I was busy looking at the accident, and running down the hill to see if one could do anything. I did just look up, I think, but there wasn't anyone in sight. Only the stones. There were a lot of contours and you could lose anyone quite easily from view.'
'Could it have been one of your party?'
'Oh, no. I'm sure it wasn't one of us. I would have known because, I mean, one would have known by their clothes. I'm sure nobody was wearing a scarlet and black pullover.'
'Thank you, Miss Crawford.'
Emlyn Price was called next. His story was practically a replica of Joanna's.
There was a little more evidence which did not amount to much.
The Coroner brought in that there was not sufficient evidence to show how Elizabeth Temple had come to her death, and adjourned the inquest for a fortnight.
Chapter 17
While they walked back from the inquest to the Golden Boar, hardly anyone spoke. Professor Wanstead walked beside Miss Marple, and since she was not a very fast walker, they fell slightly behind the others.
'What will happen next?' Miss Marple asked at last.
'Do you mean legally or to us?'
'I suppose both,' said Miss Marple, 'because one will surely affect the other.'
'It will be presumably a case of the police making further enquiries, arising out of the evidence given by those two young people.'
'Yes.'
'Further enquiry will be necessary. The inquest was bound to be adjourned. One can hardly expect the Coroner to give a verdict of accidental death.'
'No, I understand that.' She said, 'What did you think of their evidence?'
Professor Wanstead directed a sharp glance from under his beetling eyebrows.
'Have you any ideas on the subject, Miss Marple?' His voice was suggestive.
'Of course,' said Professor Wanstead, 'we knew beforehand what they were going to say.'
'Yes.'
'What you mean is that you are asking what I thought about them themselves, their feelings about it.'
'It was interesting,' said Miss Marple. 'Very interesting. The red and black check pullover. Rather important, I think, don't you? Rather striking?'
'Yes, exactly that.'
He shot again that look at her under his eyebrows. 'What does it suggest to you exactly?'
'I think,' said Miss Marple. 'I think the description of that might give us a valuable clue.'
