“We will go on, if you please,” said Alleyn. “Mr. Copeland, you told me that on Friday night you expected Miss Prentice at the rectory.”
The rector, very pale, said, “Yes.”
“She didn’t arrive?”
“No. I told you. She telephoned.”
“At what time?”
“Not long after ten.”
“From Pen Cuckoo?”
“It was my hand, you know,” said Miss Prentice rapidly. “I wanted to rest my hand. It was so very naughty. The blood tramped up and down my arm. Thump, thump, thump. So I said I would stay at home.”
“You rang up from Pen Cuckoo?”
“I took the message, Mr. Alleyn,” said Dinah. “I told you.”
“And what do you say, Miss Copeland, if I tell you that on Friday night the Pen Cuckoo telephone was out of order from 8.20 until the following morning?”
“But — it couldn’t have been.”
“I’m afraid it was.” He turned to Henry Jernigham. “You agree?”
“Yes,” said Henry without raising his head.
“You can thank The Others for that,” said Miss Prentice in a trembling voice.
“The Others?”
“The Others, yes. They are always doing those sort of tricks; and she’s the worst of the lot, that woman over there.”
“Well, Miss Copeland?”
“I took the message,” repeated Dinah. “Miss Prentice said she was at home and would remain at home.”
“This contradiction,” said Alleyn, “takes us a step further. Mrs. Ross, on Friday night you drove down to Chipping by way of Church Lane?”
“Yes.”
“You have told me that you saw a light in this hall.”
“Yes.”
“You think it was in Mr. Jernigham’s dressing-room?”
“Yes.”
“The telephone is in that room, Miss Dinah, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” whispered Dinah. “Oh, yes.”
Alleyn took a card from his pocket and scribbled on it. He handed it over to Henry.
“Will you take Miss Dinah to the rectory?” he said. “In half an hour I want you to ring through to here on the extension. Show this card to the man at the door and he will let you out.”
Henry looked fixedly at Alleyn.
“Very well, sir.” he said. “Thank you.”
Henry and Dinah went out.
iv
“Now,” said Alleyn, “we come to the final scene. I must tell you — though I dare say you have heard it all by now — that at 6.30 Miss Gladys Wright used the piano and pressed down the soft pedal. Nothing untoward happened. Since it is inconceivable that anybody could remove the pot plants and rig the automatic after 6.30, we know that the automatic must have been already in position. The safety-catch, which Mr. Henry Jernigham showed to all of you, and particularly to Mrs. Ross, accounts for Gladys Wright’s immunity. How, then, did the guilty person manage to release the safety-catch after Gladys Wright and her fellow-helpers were down in the front of the hall? I will show you how it could have been done.”
He went down to the footlights.
“You notice that the curtain falls on the far side of the improvised footlights and just catches on the top of the piano. Now, if you’ll look.”
He stooped and pushed his hand under the curtain. The top of the piano, with its covering of green and yellow bunting, could just be seen.
“This bunting is pinned down as it was on Saturday. It is stretched tight over the entire top of the piano. The lid is turned back, but of course that doesn’t show. The pot plants stand on the inside of the lid. I take out the centre drawing-pin at the back and slide my hand under the bunting. I am hidden by the curtain, and the pot plants also serve as a mask for any slight movement that might appear from the front of the hall. My fingers have reached the space beyond the open lid. Inside the opening they encounter the cold, smooth surface of the Colt. Listen.”
Above the sound of rain and wind they all heard a small click.
“I have pushed over the safety-catch,” said Alleyn. “The automatic is now ready to shoot Miss Campanula between the eyes.”
“Horrible,” said the rector violently..
“There is one sequence of events about which we can be certain,” said Alleyn. “We know that the first person to arrive was Gladys Wright. We know that she entered the hall at 6.30, and was in front of the curtain down there with her companions until and after the audience came in. We know that it would have been impossible for anybody to come down from the stage into the front of the hall unnoticed. Miss Wright is ready to swear that nobody did this. We know that Miss Dinah Copeland arrived with her father soon after Gladys Wright, and was here behind the scenes. We know Mr. Copeland sat on the stage until he made his announcement to the audience, only leaving it for a moment to join the others at the telephone, and once again when he persuaded Miss Prentice not to play. Mr. Copeland, did you at any time see anybody stoop down to the curtains as I did just then?”
“No. No! I am quite certain that I didn’t. You see, my chair faced the exact spot.”
“Yes, therefore we know that unless Mr. Copeland is the guilty person, the safety-catch must have been released during one of his two absences. But Mr. Copeland believed, up to the last moment, that Miss Prentice was to be the pianist. We are satisfied that Mr. Copeland is not the guilty person.”
The rector raised one of his large hands in a gesture that seemed to repudiate his immunity. The squire, Miss Prentice, Mrs. Ross and Templett kept their eyes fixed on Alleyn.
“Knowing the only means by which the safety-catch might be released, it seems evident that Miss Prentice was not the intended victim. Miss Prentice, you are cold. Do you feel a draught?”
Miss Prentice shook her head, but she trembled like a wet dog and looked not unlike one. There was a faint sound of movement behind the scenes. Alleyn went on:
“When you were all crowded round her and she gave in and consented to allow Miss Campanula to play, it would have been easy enough to come up here and put the safety-catch on again. Why run the risk of being arrested for the murder of the wrong person?”
Alleyn’s level voice halted for a moment. He leant forward, and when he spoke again it was with extreme deliberation:
“No! The trap was set for Miss Campanula. It was set before Miss Prentice yielded her right to play, and it was set by someone who knew she would not play. The safety-catch was released at the only moment when the stage was empty. The moment when you were all crowded round the telephone. Then the murderer sat back and waited for the catastrophe to happen. Beyond the curtain at this moment someone is sitting at the piano. In a minute you will hear the opening chords of the “Prelude” as you heard them on Saturday night. If you listen closely you will hear the click of the trigger when the soft pedal goes down. That will represent the report of the automatic. Imagine this guilty person. Imagine someone whose hand stole under the curtain while the hall was crowded and set that trap. Imagine someone who sat, as we sit now, and waited for those three fatal chords.”
Alleyn paused.
As heavy as lead and as loud as ever the dead hand had struck them out, in the empty hall beyond the curtain, thumped the three chords of Miss Campanula’s “Prelude.”
“Pom. Pom. POM!”
And very slowly, in uneven jerks, the curtain began to rise.
As it rose, so did Miss Prentice. She might have been pulled up by an invisible hand in her hair. Her mouth was wide open, but the only sound she made was a sort of retching groan. She did not take her eyes from the rising curtain, but she pointed her hand at the rector and waved it up and down.
“It was for you,” screamed Miss Prentice. “I did it for you!”