“I have been questioned again and again about this simple interlude and I have kept nothing back. The younger people were on edge. I admit it and I cannot think it strange or sinister. The first time Sir Joseph visited my wife and me, we were on edge.
“We drank excellent sherry and talked nonsense, or I did, mainly about Mrs. Parish’s charm. When their clock struck the half hour, Nicholas and I left for the dinner together.
“Poor little woman! She came to the door with us to kiss her husband. They were smiling brightly at each other and the only thing I remarked which was at all untoward — I only remember it now as I come to write — was that she refused a wrap and swore she was not cold although I noticed, as I bent towards her fair head, that her teeth were chattering.
“I last saw her waving to us from the bright green door and after that, until the message from the police was brought in to him at the table some hours afterwards, Parish did not leave my side.
“I saw the waiter bring him the note and heard his muttered word of excuse but I did not know, of course, what had called him away. Speeches were over by that time and, having done my duty, I was dozing by my glass. In wartime I discovered that I am no soldier, in peacetime I find myself doubly convinced.
“The shock came when I had got back to the Club, and was just in my room. Johnson came hurrying up to ask me if I would see an officer from Scotland Yard.
“That was my first visit from the Superintendent and he told me the news bluntly. At half-past nine that evening Mrs. Parish had been found by her sister, who had visited her unexpectedly, lying in her bedroom with her head smashed in and her pretty face obliterated by many savage blows. The maid had been out all evening, but the sister, it appeared, had a key.
“The Superintendent wanted to know, and he spoke with a frankness which set me wondering about the law of slander, if I could give ‘the husband,’ as he called poor Parish, ‘a clean sheet’!
“I soon got rid of the man. Parish had never left my side.
“Yet, in the morning, before I was up, the man was back again. He appeared with very little ceremony and requested me, somewhat amazingly I thought, to get up and go with him to a mortuary to identify the body. I own I made every effort to avoid the unpleasant experience, but, on the telephone, my solicitor was quite clear if not helpful, and at length I consented.
“We drove to a place which I found chill and there I saw what I expected to see — a fairheaded flower of a woman mutilated by unexampled brutality.
“The Superintendent — I hardly suppose any two men have ever disliked each other so thoroughly on a brief acquaintance-asked me if I could swear that the woman before me was the woman whom I had met on the evening before. He struck me as insane. At Parish’s house I had met Parish’s wife, whom I knew. Subsequently her relatives had identified these repellant remains as the poor lady’s body.
“I waited until I got outside and then gave him no more than he deserved; when I got back Miss Keddey put me through to the Commissioner with whom I had a word. That, one would have thought, should have been the end. Not a bit of it! The moment I was available — it was not until the evening — the unchastened Superintendent called again, bringing with him this consultant fellow, Campion.
“I do not admit that I took a liking to Albert Campion but there was certainly no offense in him. He behaved like a gentleman and his pale eyes behind his horn-rims were not unintelligent. Silencing his companion, who made me think of some square dog who was following him, he mentioned some gossip which I confess was new to me.
“Intimate friends of Mr. and Mrs. Parish had hinted that the couple did not get on. I was astonished to hear it but I know how difficult it is to judge such matters from a brief visit. Campion assured me that a solicitor had been consulted in regard to divorce proceedings but that Mrs. Parish had refused to sue. He told me, but it was hearsay, that Parish was reputed to have many liaisons — typists, shopgirls, minor actresses. It was hardly my affair. He told me the two had separate rooms and never dined together. I shook my head; it is extraordinary how other people live.
“Finally, since the interview was taking longer than I had time for, I invited them to put their cards on the table. Immediately the Superintendent, springing from the leash, advanced an extraordinary theory which I can only think was his own. He suggested that Parish had been free to murder his wife before I arrived at the house and had successfully convinced me that the woman he introduced as his wife was the one I had met at Brabbington. It was so absurd and so insulting that I told him of my peculiarity — I never forget a face. I added that I was prepared to go into a witness box and swear it. My old friend, Lord Justice Blossom, might, I thought, confirm me in this modest boast.
“He left after that and it was as he went out of the door (Miss Keddey is still tremulous) that he permitted himself the epithet with which I opened this account. Pompous, old, and an ass.
“As I recovered from my amazement I saw that this fellow Campion was still there. He has a certain charm.
“ ‘Zeal has no grace,’ he said and made me an adroit little compliment on the clarity of my evidence. Before very long — I forget how it came about — we were chatting of other things and I found that he was a member of the Junior Greys from whom the Club sometimes accepts hospitality at spring-cleaning time.
“At length I noticed he was hesitating, not venturing to bother me, and, as is my way when people are civil, I gave him a lead. He made what he admitted himself was a very odd request. He asked me to go with him to buy some flowers.
“Why I should have gone, merely to please him, must remain the only mystery in this episode.
“We entered the brightly lit Mayfair shop, hot and dark and smelling like a funeral, and a young woman came forward to serve us.
“Just for an instant I felt a sudden qualm. The likeness was in her movement, the eagerness of her walk, the brightness in her eyes, but at once I saw that I was wrong and I blamed the Superintendent for making a normally nerveless man fanciful. This girl had black hair, the blackest I have ever seen in a European; her face was pallid as wax and she kept her eyes downcast. Her clothes were nondescript and her voice was no more than a whisper.
“Campion spent so much time buying a few violets from her that I suspected him of not knowing his own mind but we came out at last and stood on the damp pavement together, near a street lamp.
“He gave me that gentle smile of his which reminds one that he has not the drive to make a success of his odious profession and said softly, ‘Of course, she has a face anyone could forget — even you, Sir Theo.’
“ ‘Who?’ said I. ‘The shop-girl? No, my boy, I shall know her again if ever I see her — which I doubt.’
“He sighed at that. ‘So,’ he said. ‘In that case I don’t suppose you ever will.’ Then, with a swiftness which surprised me, he pulled out a photograph and showed it to me in the light. It was one of these fuzzy modem prints showing a woman in Service uniform. She was the same type as Mrs. Parish, or the girl in the flower shop for that matter, but the photograph was bad and did not flatter her. She was babyish round — no animation.
“I guessed his plan and smiled.
“ ‘I remember her when she was like that — at Brabbington,’ I said. ‘It’s no good your worrying, Campion. I never do. I never forget a face.’