‘Yes one of John Rhode’s. Why?’
‘I, suggest that the first letter merely gave the title of the book and the chapters concerned and added the code-word for the next message. Since the book was English it would be quite natural to make the whole message English.’
‘Ingenious beast,’ said Wimsey. ‘Meaning you. But it’s quite a possible explanation. We needn’t go into all that story again. Obviously, Mrs Morecambe. was the source of information about the topography and fauna of Wilvercombe and Darley. Weldon was chosen to do the throat-cutting and horse-riding part of it, which needed brawn only, while Morecambe buzzed about despatching letters and photographs and working Alexis up to he top-notch of excitement. Then, when everything is about ready, Morecambe goes off to take up his role of travelling hairdresser.’
‘But why all that incredible elaboration?’—demanded Harriet.’
‘Why didn’t they just buy an ordinary razor or knife in an ordinary way? Surely it would be less traceable.’
‘You’d think so. In fact, I daresay it might have been. But it’s surprising how things do get traced. Look at Patrick Mahon and the chopper, for instance. The plan was to make the thing really impregnable by double and triple lines of defence. First, it was to look like suicide; secondly, if that was questioned and the razor traced, there was to be a convincing origin for the razor, thirdly, if by any chance Morecambe’s disguise was seen through, there was to be an explanation for that.’
‘I see. Well, go on. Morecambe had the courage of his own convictions, anyhow he did the, thing very thoroughly.’
‘Wise man. I admit that he took me in, absolutely. Well, now Weldon. He had his character of Haviland Martin all ready to slip into. Acting under instructions, he hired a Morgan, crammed it uncomfortably with a small tent and his personal belongings, and went to camp at Darley, next door to Farmer Newcombe’s field. Morecambe arrived at Wilvercombe the same day. Whether and when those two met I don’t know. It’s my impression, that the whole thing was scheduled beforehand as far as possible, and that there was next to no communication after the plot had once got going.’
‘Very likely,’ said Umpelty. That would account for its getting hitched-up over the times.’
‘Possibly. Well, on the Thursday, Alexis starts off for the Flat-Iron according to instructions. By the way, it was necessary that the body should be found and recognised hence, I fancy, the fact that Alexis was told to go openly to the rock by the-coast-road. In case the body got lost, there would be witnesses to say that he had been last seen going in that direction, and to suggest a possible area for search. It would never have done for him simply to disappear like snow upon the desert’s dusty face.
‘So Alexis goes off to look for a crown. Meanwhile, Henry Weldon has run a needle through the H.T. leads of the Morgan, so as to provide a very good reason for asking for a lift into Wilvercombe. And now you see why a Morgan. It had to be something with only two cylinders, if the whole ignition was to be put out of action with one needle: that is a Morgan, a Belsize-Bradshaw or a motor-bike. He probably avoided the bike on the ground of exposure to weather, and chose the Morgan as the next most handy and numerous two-cylinder bus.’
Inspector Umpelty smacked his thigh, and then, remembering that none of all this did away with the central snag in the case, blew his nose mournfully.
‘Shortly after: ten o’clock, along comes Mrs Morecambe in the Bentley with the conspicuous number-plate. That number-plate was pure bunce for them — they can scarcely have picked or wangled it on purpose, but it came in very convenient as a means of identifying the bus. What more natural than that Weldon, if questioned, should remember a number so screamingly funny as that? Oi, oi, oi! Highly humorous, wasn’t it, Inspector?’
‘Where did she put him down, then?’ asked Umpelty, scowling.
‘Anywhere, out of sight of the village and the passing throng. At some point where he can cut across the fields to the shore again. The road turns in rather sharply from the coast between Darley and Wilvercombe, which doubtless accounts for their having left him so much time for his walk back. In any case, by, say, 11.15, he has walked back to Darley and is cocking an eye over the fence at Farmer Newcombe’s bay mare. He pulls a stake out of the hedge and goes into the field, with oats in one hand and a rope-bridle in the-other.’.
‘What did he want to take oats for?’ Surely the horse would have come up to him if he just said “Coop” or whatever it is and shaken his hat about? It seems silly of him to scatter oats; all over the place like that.’
‘Yes, my child,’ said Wimsey. ‘But there was a reason for that. I think the oats he scattered were from the day before, when he first started to make friends with the mare. Teach an animal to come for food once and it’ll come twice as fast the second time; but once disappoint it, and it won’t come at all.’
‘Yes, of course. You’re quite right.’
‘Now,’ said Wimsey, ‘I think, I can’t prove it, but I think, our hero left most of his clothes behind him. I’m not certain, but it seems an obvious precaution. At any, rate, he bridled the mare and mounted her and rode off. You’ve got to remember that between Darley and Pollock’s cottage the shore is hidden from the road, so that the only risk he ran of being seen was by somebody straying on the edge of the cliff itself. And they would probably not worry much about a man exercising a horse along the shore. His real awkward moment was the passing of the cottages, but he had carefully chosen the very time when the working-classes have their dinner. I fancy he went past there just before midday.’
‘They heard hoofs about that time.’
‘Yes. And a little later, Paul Alexis heard them too, as he sat on his rock and dreamed of the Imperial Purple. He looked and saw the Rider from the Sea.’
‘Quite so,’ said Umpelty, unmoved. ‘And what, then?’
‘Ah! — you recollect that we are merely describing an. ideal crime, in which everything works out as planned.’
‘Oh, yes — of course.’
‘Then — in the ideal crime Weldon rides up to the rock through the water — and by the way, you will bear in mind that it is fully an hour before low tide and.that there is a foot and a half of water at the foot of the Flat-Iron: He ties the mare close by the head to the ring-bolt put there the day before, and he climbs up on to the rock. Alexis may or may not have recognised him. If he did.’
Wimsey paused, and his eyes grew angry.
‘Whether he did or not, he hadn’t much time for disappointment. Weldon asked him to sit down, I think; emperors sit, while respectful commoners stand behind them, you see. Weldon asked for the letter, and Alexis gave him the decoded translation. Then he leaned over him from behind with the razor.
‘Weldon, of course, was a fool. He did everything wrong that he could do. He ought to have removed those gloves, and he ought to have seen to it that he had the original letter. Perhaps he ought to have searched the body. But I think that would have been worse still. It might have destroyed the suicidal appearance. Once move a body and you never can, recapture the first, fine, careless rapture, don’t you know. And besides, the mare was struggling and nearly breaking away. That would have been fatal…’