‘She can’t prove anything, duck. That’s her trouble. Apparently the psychological proof is there all right, but there’s no material proof whatsoever. Of course,’ added Laura, eyeing her swain reprovingly, ‘you police have made a muck of the thing, don’t you think?’
‘Honestly,’ said Gavin, taking the question with a Scotsman’s seriousness, ‘I don’t know what I think. I don’t think we’ve missed anything, Laura. That’s one of the things that makes me believe that Mrs Bradley’s right about the murders, and that they haven’t been done by a local person, but are part of some special scheme.’
‘Planned by a fox,’ said Laura. ‘One thing, whatever Connie Carmody was supposed to do hasn’t come off.’
‘I don’t think we know that,’ said Gavin. ‘But I wish we could solve the whole thing. They’re so beastly, these murders of kids. I’d like to get Tidson if he did them.’
‘He did them all right, if she says so.’
‘She doesn’t altogether say so, Laura. Mind you, if that young Preece-Harvard had been murdered there wouldn’t be very much doubt about Tidson’s guilt. But even allowing that she’s given us the tip, and that Tidson did kill those two boys, we’ve hunted in vain for the evidence. A panama hat was mentioned, I believe. Tidson has worn one down here, and there seems no doubt that he has lost it, because he’s had to buy himself another, but whether Potter’s story is true, and the lost hat was underneath Bob Grier’s body and later on disappeared, is another matter. One would have thought that those people who live near the Griers and the Potters would have noticed a man in a panama hat. They’re not the usual wear in poorer districts. Well, we’ve questioned them pretty closely and we can’t get a thing. And that’s how it’s been all the time.’
‘I know, But there must be some evidence somewhere. Somebody must know something and have seen something. The only thing is – who?’
‘Murder Considered as One of the Fine Arts – well, little Tidson must be an artist, I suppose. You find them in all walks of life and in all professions, and, certainly, the naiad was a poetic conception. I wonder what made him think of her? – Although we don’t even know for certain that he was the one to think of her. That hasn’t been proved, you know.’
‘Oh, well, I don’t know about that! Connie did make a beeline for that flat on the Great West Road. And, actually, Potter didn’t call it a panama hat. Think that one over!’
‘Yes, I know. But she hated Tidson and he scared her. Flies don’t usually make direct for the spider’s web.’
‘Mrs Croc. says that, psychologically, they do. By the way, I wonder how much Connie likes Crete? She’s supposed to hate her as much as she hates old Tidson, but that might not prove to be true.’
‘Crete hates Connie, anyway. That’s quite certain, I thought.’
‘Yes. Well, now: I know we can’t get Crete to give evidence against her husband, but, supposing he is the murderer, do you think we could get at anything through her?’
‘Well, we’ve saved her life, I suppose. She might be disposed to tell us one or two facts about her movements since she first came to Winchester, and that might implicate her husband.’
‘I shouldn’t have thought she made many movements. She seemed to do nothing but all that embroidery. And, even if she could help us, she won’t incriminate herself.’
‘No . . . I still think, though, as I have thought ever since I saw both of them, that there can’t be any love lost between them. Besides, who would half-drown Crete except her husband—’
‘Or Connie Carmody? I agree; although there again—’
‘Well, there’s Miss Priscilla Carmody, of course, and the Preece-Harvards, mother and son.’
‘Oh, but—’
‘You can’t cut out any of them, or put in any of them. There isn’t any evidence either way, any more than there is for the murders. All you can say is that, as the Tidsons have no other English connections—’
‘So far as we know. That’s the catch. We really know most about them from the Canary Islands end.’
‘I don’t think it’s much of a catch. Thirty-five years is a pretty good long time, and Crete, so far as we know, hasn’t been in England before.’
‘Even that we can’t prove, though, can we, unless Miss Carmody knows, and Crete had an English mother.’
‘I shall be glad when Mrs Bradley gets down here. Perhaps she can get something out of Crete.’
‘Perhaps she can. She can see further through a brick wall than most people, can Mrs Croc. But Crete’s a dark horse all right, and as for the drowning—’
‘Not a put-up job from her point of view, you know. She was full of nasty unfiltered river water. There was nothing phony about that. I’ve seen half-drowned people before. It’s a habit we have in the police force, and I think I know most of the signs.’
‘Then either she was attempting suicide or—’
‘Exactly. Or. But we should have spotted the party of the other part. We couldn’t have helped it. My own view is that it was an attempt at suicide. I don’t think murder comes into it, somehow, you know.’
‘Didn’t another point strike you?’ Laura enquired.
‘I can’t say it did. What?’
‘Well, it’s against the suicide theory and very much in favour of murder.’
‘Go on.’ He looked anxiously at her.
‘Where were Crete’s clothes? We didn’t see any.’
‘Well, we didn’t look for any. We were more concerned with bundling her up and getting her into the car.’
‘Would a suicide undress first? And, if she did, and the clothes are still there, well, you left a policeman on duty to keep off sightseers and avoid—’
‘Having people leave extraneous clues,’ said Gavin, grinning. ‘I did. So we go along and look for Crete’s garments. Do you know, so much have I become inoculated in favour of the naiad that I never even thought about clothes. It seemed natural to find Crete naked.’
‘It had better not seem natural when you’re married to me,’ said Laura. ‘Now, look. Somebody has got to stay here at the Domus to meet Mrs Croc. and take her to hear Crete’s depositions or whatever you call any information she’s likely to give. Any objection if I point out that that is your job, and that the search for Crete’s clothes is mine?’
‘Go ahead,’ said Gavin. ‘I’ll give you an O.K. for Sandbank.’
‘Sandbank?’
‘Our P.C. I left him on duty at the spot.’
‘Oh, yes. Thanks. All right, then. I’ll be back in an hour to report.’
But she was not back in an hour. She made her way quickly to the place on the river bank from which they had first seen Crete. She was aware at once of Police-Constable Sandbank, and went over to him with her written authority from Gavin.
‘Very good, miss,’ he said, saluting, ‘but I don’t think you’ll find much. I’ve had a look round myself, but I can’t see nothing. It’s hard to decide how the poor lady could have come here naked, though. She, or somebody else, may have hidden her clothes away, of course. There’s plenty of places to search. But it’s queer, to my way of thinking.’
‘Yes, it is queer. I’m going across.’ She went back to the bridge and crossed it. It was soggy on the opposite bank, but, regardless of mud and water, she searched the ground carefully, exploring the reeds and bushes and squelching hopefully through pasture full of waterlogged hoof-prints.
She came out on to the causeway at last, and explored the banks of the brooks on either side. Nothing could be seen of any clothes, although she went as far as the lasher before she turned back.