‘Some women do it metaphorically, of course. He was very frank in confessing that he could not furnish himself with any kind of an alibi, but, as I think we are agreed, no alibi is of use, either to the police or the person under suspicion, until we know when the murder actually took place. Being a shrewd man, he has worked that out for himself. Have you your luggage with you?’
‘Yes. I’m not going back to my hotel — or, rather, to one of McMaster’s hotels. I have finished the job I was doing for him and shall send him the last bit of my work tomorrow when I’ve gone through it and done any necessary typing at home. I will also type out today’s shorthand and send it to you.’
‘If you can spare the time, why not bring it to me and stay for a couple of days? We can find plenty of material for conversation and Laura will like to hear our combined account of today’s visit. I am interested in Mr Coberley’s assertion that the murder was committed by a woman.’
‘What is your own opinion about that? You said that women were capable metaphorically of stabbing one another in the back, but it might be much more difficult for them to bring themselves to do it physically, don’t you think?’
‘It might depend upon the sharpness of the weapon, the physical energy of the murderess and her knowledge of anatomy,’ said Dame Beatrice, pretending to misunderstand me.
‘I recoil from the idea of a woman plunging cold steel into another woman,’ I said.
‘A typical masculine reaction, but the squeamishness becomes you. Shall I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then, at lunch? Can you get your work finished by then?’
‘Oh, yes, easily, and I can post it to McMaster on my way to you.’
‘Before we meet again, I should be glad if you would turn over in your mind everything which happened between Gloria Mundy’s invasion — I use the word advisedly, for that is what it seems to have been — and the discovery of the charred body. Will you do that and prepare yourself to answer any questions which it may occur to me to put to you?’
‘Certainly, and thank you for the invitation. Has Coberley convinced you of his own innocence?’
‘By no means. The evidence against him may be slight, but it must be taken into account.’
12
Recapitulation with Surprise Ending
« ^ »
I enjoyed my two days at the Stone House. The three of us discussed the salient facts of what had taken place at Beeches Lawn so far as our knowledge of them went, and I charged my memory with making out a timetable in the hope that it would reveal to us the day on which the murder had taken place.
‘But it won’t tell us where it took place,’ I said. ‘It could have happened in the old house or somewhere quite other and the body brought back to be burnt. That has been obvious from the beginning. If only they knew where the stabbing happened, the police might not have seen fit to arrest Coberley.’
‘Let us have your timetable,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘You were at Beeches Lawn before the rest of us arrived and you stayed longer than anybody else.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I got down to Beeches Lawn on the Thursday. I had taken some work with me and I was all set for a quiet, pleasant week. Anthony seemed glad to see me and Celia was charming, so that was fine.
‘Friday was an equally peaceful day. Anthony showed me round the estate, but then (to my regret at the time) I heard that an influx of weekend visitors was expected and on the Saturday they began to arrive.
‘On Sunday I was shown the interior of the old house. Coberley, who had the key, took me inside, warned me about the rickety staircase and showed me the nude portrait. I thought at once — at least, I believe I did — of Gloria Mundy, whose remarkable hair McMaster, the man I was working for, had described to me shortly before. Anyway, the picture was not a portrait of Gloria, but it must have been that of an ancestress of hers, and I’m sure it lends credence to her claim to be a distant relative of Anthony Wotton. It seems to me that his great-grandfather had an illegitimate child by the girl in the portrait and that the peculiar hair had been passed down to Gloria.’
‘Miss Brockworth, you told me, thought that Miss Mundy wore a wig in imitation of the hair in the portrait,’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘Then the wig was a fairly recent acquisition,’ I said. ‘She certainly didn’t wear a wig when her lover or lovers used to wash her hair for her.’
‘As the hair seems to have been the only means of establishing the identity of the corpse, I must still regard it with some suspicion,’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘But, if the body wasn’t Gloria’s, whose could it have been?’
‘I am not saying that it was not Gloria’s. All the same, I think the police would be well advised to check their lists of missing persons. If it should transpire that the body is not that of Gloria Mundy, some part of the case against Mr Coberley must collapse.’
‘It’s weak enough already, in my opinion,’ I said. ‘Shall I go on? On the Sunday two other things happened, neither of which seems particularly significant. You, Dame Beatrice, had a session with Aunt Eglantine in private and then were called away, and McMaster telephoned to ask me to meet him as there were one or two points to discuss concerning the hotel brochures I was working on. Anthony and Celia preferred that he be asked to come to Beeches Lawn, as he, Anthony and I had been in college together. He was invited to bring his wife with him, but he came without her.
‘Meanwhile a more important thing happened on the Sunday. Gloria Mundy turned up, was invited to stay to lunch and did not get further than the apportioning of the plates of soup because the outrageous behaviour of Miss Eglantine drove her from the table.’
‘I am sorry I missed such a dramatic episode, but I was called away even sooner than I expected,’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘McMaster also missed it, since he did not appear until lunch was over and Gloria Mundy (so far as anybody knew) was well and truly off the premises. Well, two of the younger guests, Roland Thornbury and Kay Shortwood, had planned to go home that evening and McMaster was not intending to stay the night, but the storm settled all that. Roland and Kay had to abandon their car and come back and the Wottons persuaded McMaster not to attempt a journey because of flooded roads.
‘When they got back to Beeches Lawn, Roland and Kay told this strange story of having seen Gloria at one of the windows of the old house, and the story was borne out by Miss Eglantine next day when she went there in the morning to look at the picture and ran into Gloria, who told her the picture was upstairs. Most rashly, with her weight, she tried the stairs, brought part of them down and broke her leg.’
‘So that brings us to Monday morning,’ said Laura.
‘Oh, wait a moment. No, I think it brings us to Tuesday. Roland spent Monday morning in bed and, if I remember correctly, the picture was mentioned on Monday, but the old lady did not go to the old house until Tuesday after breakfast. I think it must have been on the Monday that Celia had her first row with Anthony. They had more than one before they decided to call it a day.’
‘About Gloria?’ asked Laura. ‘The rows, I mean.’
‘Yes, about Gloria. Anthony, the ass, had told Celia all about his little affair and Celia, I suppose, had stored up her ammunition, and it only needed Gloria to turn up the way she did for the spark to ignite the gunpowder.’
‘And after Tuesday you would have been the only guest left in the house, I suppose,’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘I was due to stay until Thursday in any case. After the bonfire and then the discovery of the body, Anthony and Celia welcomed the idea of having somebody else in the place, I think. I’ve left out the accident to Marigold Coberley, but it has to be mentioned because the police believe it was Coberley’s motive for the murder.’