“Certainly not!” said Miss Challoner. “You are not at all fit to be left with two young men. Suppose you were to feel faint. I shall certainly not go.”
“I should prefer it, Phoebe.”
Detective Abbott opened the door.
“I am afraid, Miss Challoner,” he said, “that it would be quite out of the question for you to remain. I shall do my best not to alarm Miss Craddock.”
“I shall inform Dr. Clarke!” said Miss Challoner indignantly.
The door closed behind her.
“Dear Phoebe,” said Miss Craddock-“she has been so very kind. Now, Mr. Abbott, will you make yourself quite comfortable? I don’t know what I ought to do, but you will help me, won’t you?” Her voice trembled perceptibly. “I don’t have to take an oath, do I?”
“Oh, no, Miss Craddock. Peter will sit by you, and I will bring this chair up to the foot of the couch. I can write on my knee, and all you’ve got to do is just to tell me what you know about Tuesday evening.”
“It wasn’t the evening,” said Lucy Craddock faintly. “It was the dreadful, dreadful night.”
Frank Abbott brought up his chair, opened a notebook, and said in an encouraging voice,
“Now I am quite ready. Just tell me anything you want to.”
“It is all so dreadful,” said Lucy Craddock. “I don’t know where to begin, indeed I don’t. You know I was going away on a cruise. We had been having a very sad time with my sister Mary’s death-but Peter will have told you-”
“Yes, he knows all that, Lucinda.”
“So I was going away-for a little change. Things had been very disturbing and worrying, and my sister had wanted me to go-but then on the other hand I felt as if I ought to be on the spot. It was all so very difficult.”
“Well, you started off for Victoria, Lucinda, and we know you got there, because that’s where you met Lee and handed her over the key of your flat. She left you at the barrier. Now suppose you begin there and tell us what happened after that.”
“It’s so difficult,” said Lucy Craddock. “You see, there was a private matter that was very much on my mind, and when it came to the point I felt that I really could not get into the train and go away. I felt that I had not done all I might. It was quite a private matter, Mr. Abbott.”
“My poor Lucinda,” said Peter-“nothing is private in this affair. Everyone knows that you were unhappy about the way Ross was running after Mavis.”
“Oh, my dear!”
Peter patted her shoulder.
“I know-but it can’t be helped. Brace up! We’ve all got to get used to living in public. Now get back to where you felt you couldn’t go away without having another shot at making Mavis see reason.”
“I felt I must,” said Lucy Craddock with sudden energy. “I was going to spend the night with Maggie Simpson at Folkestone-Professor Simpson’s daughter, a very old friend-so I thought I could see Mavis, and catch an early morning train and cross by the same boat as the others. It was a conducted tour, you know. So I put my luggage in the cloakroom and sent off a telegram.”
“Yes?”
“And then-yes, I think I had a sandwich and some milk, because I didn’t want to arrive in the middle of their dinner. And then I started out to go to Holland Park.”
“Mavis Grey lives out there with an uncle and aunt,” said Peter.
Abbott nodded,
“Yes-I’ve got the address. What time did you get there, Miss Craddock?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Abbott. It was getting dark. It took me a long time, because I got on to the wrong bus. And when I got there my niece had gone out-so dreadfully disappointing.”
“Darling Lucinda, why didn’t you telephone?”
“I never thought of it, my dear.”
“What did you do after that, Miss Craddock?”
“I came round here to see if Phoebe could put me up, but she was out too. She only has a maid in the morning, and there was no one to answer the door, so I went away. And I went into a cinema because I was getting so dreadfully tired, but I can’t remember what the picture was or anything aboutit.”
“Why didn’t you go home to your own flat, Lucinda?”
Lucy Craddock clasped Her hands.
“I felt that I must see Mavis-I didn’t seem to be able to think of anything else. I stayed in the cinema until it shut, and then I went back to Holland Park and walked up and down waiting for Mavis to come home. I just felt I couldn’t go away without seeing her. And then it came to me-suppose she doesn’t come home.”
“What time was this?” said Frank Abbott.
“It struck twelve, and it struck one, and I kept walking up and down. And then it came to me that Mavis wasn’t coming back, and I thought, ‘I’ll wait another half hour,’ so I did, and a little more. And then I knew it was no good, so I went home.”
“Home to Craddock House?”
“Yes, my dear. And oh, I do wish I hadn’t.” Lucy Craddock began to tremble.
Peter put his hand down over hers and steadied them.
“It’s all right-you’re doing very nicely. You just go on and tell us what happened.”
“Do you know what time it was when you got to Craddock House?” said Frank Abbott.
“I don’t know, but I think it must have been after two. I must have heard a clock strike two, because I remember thinking how dreadfully late it was, and I got home about a quarter of an hour after that. You see, it took me a long time from Holland Park because I was so very tired and-and distressed, and I think I went out of my way several times.”
“Yes,” said Frank Abbott. “And at about a quarter past two you came to Craddock House. Was the street door shut? That is one of the things we very much want to know about.”
Lucy Craddock pulled herself up on the sofa, pushing away Peter’s hand and sitting up clear of the cushions.
“Oh, no-it wasn’t shut,” she said in an agitated voice. “I had my key all ready, but I didn’t have to use it. I saw someone come down the steps, and when I got up to the door I found that it wasn’t latched. It upset me very much indeed to think of anyone being so careless.”
Peter Renshaw felt a quickening of every pulse. If Lucy had seen someone come out of Craddock House at a quarter past two, then she had probably seen Ross Craddock’s murderer.
Abbott said quickly,
“You saw someone come down the steps. Could you see who it was?”
“Oh, no, Mr. Abbott.”
“How near were you?”
“I don’t quite know-not very near. I had stopped to get out my key, and I saw someone come down the steps quickly-like a shadow.”
“Man, or woman?”
“Indeed I don’t know. It startled me to see someone coming out of the house so late, but I couldn’t see who it was. I wasn’t very near, and the porch casts a shadow. I could only see that someone had come down the steps, and when I got there and found the door unlatched-”
“Miss Craddock, this is very important indeed. You say you saw a figure come down the steps. It must have made some impression on you at the time. Shut your eyes and try and think just what you did see-something moving, coming down the steps, coming out of the shadow of the porch, coming down on to the pavement. There must have been a moment when you saw that figure against the light at the corner of the road, Try and think how it looked to you then.”
“It’s no use,” said Lucy Craddock in a shaking voice.“I am short-sighted, Mr. Abbott, and I was very much disturbed at the time.”
“Did the figure go away from you towards the corner?”
She shook her head.
“There is a little alleyway between our house and the next one. I think whoever it was must have gone through that way-oh, yes, they must, because I lost sight of them immediately.”
Peter said, “You know, Fug, that street lamp is a good way off-it doesn’t really light the front of Craddock House.”