But of course there had never been the faintest risk.
He replaced the stopper in the chloroform - water jar and put the jar back on the shelf, corked and labelled the medicine bottle, and wrapped it up neatly in a piece of white paper. "Phil!" came a long - suffering voice from down the passage.
"Hullo?"
"Aren't you coming in to lunch today at all?"
"Coming, dear."
Dr. Chalmers went in to lunch, of which he proceeded to partake with a hearty appetite. Dr. Chalmers was not an imaginative man.
At half - past six that evening Mike Armstrong presented himself in the tiny sitting room of Margot Stratton's tiny flat in Bloomsbury.
"Hullo, darling," said Margot with enthusiasm.
"Hullo."
"Had a good day?"
"Not bad. I brought an evening paper. There's a paragraph about the inquest on Ena."
"Oh! Let me see it. Where?"
Mike Armstrong indicated the paragraph. Margot read it quickly through.
"'Suicide During Temporary Insanity.' Well, that's all right," she said with obvious relief.
"Not so much of the 'temporary.'"
"No."
Margot dropped the paper onto her knees and stared at her fiance. "That means it's all finished?"
"Yes."
"They're quite satisfied? I mean, they're sure it was suicide?"
"Well, obviously."
"You're certain they won't be making any further inquiries?"
"Shouldn't think so. Why should they?"
Margot did not answer directly. Instead, she said:
"Darling, I didn't tell you, but I nearly died when that man came round here last night."
"That inspector bloke? Why? He said it was only a routine inquiry. They're bound to interview all the people who were there."
"I know. But I was afraid he'd want me to give evidence today."
"Well, there wasn't any evidence you could give that wasn't covered already by other people's."
"Wasn't there?"
"What do you mean?"
"Darling, if I don't tell someone, I'll burst. You can keep a secret, can't you?"
"I hope so."
"Yes, I know you can. Well - Ena didn't commit suicide at all!"
"What?"
"You see, I know she didn't."
"How do you know?"
"Will you swear never to breathe a word of this to anyone?"
"Yes."
"Well - Phil Chalmers tried to kill her."
"What!"
"I happen to know he did."
"How? Why?"
"Because she was going to split to the K.P. about Ronald and Agatha, and because she's been giving David such a hell of a time lately."
"But how do you know all this, darling?"
"Darling, I'll tell you. You know when I was looking for you just before the Chalmers went home? Well, I went up on the roof."
"Yes?"
"Darling, you will keep quiet about this, won't you?"
"Of course."
"Well, I stood just outside the door and called. At first I thought there was no one there. Then I heard someone saying 'Margot!' in a choky sort of voice. I looked round, and still couldn't see anyone. And then I saw Ena. At least, I didn't recognize her at first, but it was Ena. My dear, where do you think she was?"
"Can't imagine."
"My dear, hanging on the rope! Actually hanging there!"
"What?" said Mike incredulously. "My dear girl, she couldn't possibly have spoken if she'd been hanging."
"But she wasn't hanging by her neck. She'd got hold of the rope above her head and pulled herself up, to take the weight off her neck. She was clinging on the rope - my dear, it sounds awful to say it, but she really was - just like a monkey on a string."
"Good lord!"
"I started running towards her, of course, but she called out to me, still in the choky voice, to bring the chair. I looked round, and there was a chair lying on the roof close to the door, so I took that with me and put it underneath her, and she let herself down onto it."
"Well, I'm blessed!"
"That's what I was nearly dying about when that man was here, you see. I thought someone must remember how she was able to pull herself up onto that beam in the drawing room, and see that of course she could pull herself up on the rope, too. But luckily no one seems to have thought of it."
"Good lord. Well, what happened?"
"Well, she stood there, with the rope still round her neck, puffing and panting for a bit - and then she began to let fly!"
"Let fly?"
"My dear, she was simply livid. With rage, I mean. I suppose she was frightened, too, but mostly it was rage. The things she was going to do! Apparently we were all in it - Ronald, David, Agatha, Celia, everyone, quite apart from Phil. She seemed to think there'd been a regular conspiracy to kill her, and Phil had been sent up to do it. Anyhow, she was going to ring up the police that instant and give Phil in charge for attempted murder, and stop Ronald and Agatha getting married, and make David wish he'd never been born (as I should think he'd done ever since he married her, poor devil!), and heaven only knew what not else.
"My dear, in a way of course it was terribly funny, though she wouldn't have seen that, of course. I mean, the way she was standing there, breathing out fire and slaughter, with the rope still round her neck. She was far too frenzied to do more than loosen it a bit, or else she thought she made a fine impressive picture like that. The lamb and the slaughter, you know."
"But I can't think how she hadn't choked already, before she could catch hold of the rope at all."
"Oh, well, you see, it was rather thick and stiff. She said something about that - something about her fine brother - in - law having made a miscalculation, and if the rope hadn't been too thick to make a quickly running noose she'd have been a dead woman already."
"Well, what happened then?"
"Well, I stood it for a bit, till I began to feel damned sorry I'd come along at all. David had been rather pouring his heart out to me, you see, during the charades, and heaven knows I hated the woman enough before that for myself. Besides, I'd like to do Ronald a good turn, and it would have been a jolly good turn if I'd gone straight down again instead of giving her that chair to stand on. She said herself she couldn't have lasted for another half - minute."
"So . . ."
"So I cut into the tirade and said she must be talking nonsense. Phil would never have done such a thing. That made her more angry still, and she said that Phil jolly well had done such a thing. She'd been talking to him, and he'd dared her to stand on the chair and put her head in the noose, and when she did it he just pulled the chair away from underneath her; and now she was going down to ring up the police and give him in charge for attempted murder, and that would be that. So ..."
"Yes?"
Margot hesitated. "I like Phil, don't you?"
"Yes, he's a good sort."
"Yes. And . . . Darling, you would love me whatever you knew I'd done, wouldn't you?"
"I expect so."
"Sure you would?"
"Positive. What did you do?"
Margot coughed in a rather deprecatory way.
"Well, darling," she said simply, "I pulled the chair away again."