"Wishing, sure," said Fred.
"Wishing enough to do something about it? To take action?"
"Yes," said Alice, "yes, I suppose so. But . . . she's blind."
"Never mind that for now."
Fred said, "If she did it, she'd do it like you said, halfconsciously."
"I thought so myself," said Duff. "Let's look at Maud."
"You look," said Fred. "Maud's my pet aversion." Every once in a while Fred let out a three-syllable word. His college education, thought Alice.
"What would Maud want to buy with money?" Duff demanded.
"Candy," said Alice.
"Peanuts," said Fred.
"That's it. Her little comforts," said Duff. "Maud's sensual and lazy."
"Maud's a pig, and she'd as soon kill anybody as squash a fly," said Fred, "for all she'd worry about it."
"Unmoral," said Duff, "yes. But for all that, Maud has a certain directness about her." -
"She'd call a spade a God-damned shovel," said Fred. "Excuse me, Alice."
Alice said, "I know. She's terrible."
"There's another element in our Maud," Duff said, "and that's curiosity. For aJl her sloppiness and her happy-go-luckiness, as Innes says, and her sloth, she's curious. Also, she's intelligent." "Who? Maud!"
"Comparatively speaking," said Duff. "Yes, I think so. Because she doesn't deceive herself. Maud knows she's a slob. She doesn't give a damn, but she knows it."
"If she's intelligent, give me somebody who's dumb enough to take a bath," said Fred in disgust.
"Nevertheless," Duff said, "I don't think Maud fits the psychological pattern, the unconscious murderer."
"Sure she does," Fred insisted. "That's just her sloppiness. It's the same thing, same effect, I mean. Either i she's half-fooling herself, or she's just sloppy." 1'
"You may be right," said Duff thoughtfully. "I can be wrong. I can be baffled," he warned them.
"I think she knows more than she lets on," admitted Alice. "Her eyes are "so bright, in that fat pasty face. . . ."
"But the trouble it takes," murmured Duff. "Life's too short, you know." x
"Damned merry, for Maud, though," said Fred and '' stopped. "Well, what about Izzy?"
"Isabel," said Duff. "Well, now, what is Isabel? Grasping, eh? She'd buy things. What's more, she'd keep them. She's not only grasping, but I'd say she never lets go."
"That's what Innes said," Alice told him. "Innes says she never takes her losses."
"Yes," said Duff, "that fits in. She's got the Woman's Home Companion complete since 1939." "What's her room like?" "Her room is a hoard." "Oh," said Alice, "the sleeves?" Duff said, "Sleeves come later, but I'll tell you for now that nobody has any stained sleeve or any sleeve that looks as if it had been recently washed, nor has Josephine washed any."
"What does that mean?"
"A bare arm," said Duff. "Speaking of arms, I think we may take it that Isabel is still wearing her original artificial arm, since a new one would surely seem a waste of money to her. At least, she'd hoard the old one, and I found no
extra limb lying about among her possessions. Qose your mouth, Alice." Alice's jaws closed in a snap, while Duff went serenely on. "Isabel, then, is grasping. Isabel has energy, too. Don't you think so?"
"Oh, yes, nervous energy," said Alice. "She's awfully nervous. I hate the way she puts her hand on me."
"Can you imagine Isabel setting these traps for her brother's life?"
"Yes," said AHce, "I'm afraid I can. I loathe them all, but if I have a pet aversion, it's Isabel."
"Maud," said Fred.
"Isabel," said Alice.
"Yet why not all three," said Duff. "It could be, of course. Suppose one drops the lamp. Suppose another flies down the hiU in the dark and tugs at the sawhorse. Suppose the third, seeing her sisters fail, as in a fairy tale, slips into the cellar and makes her rounds of the pipes. There isn't a thing to show that one and only one was guilty. And the motive holds for them all, just as you said, Fred, though I scarcely believed you then."
"Do you mean they have a conspiracy?" said Alice, troubled.
"Why not?"
"I don't know. I can't imagine that."
"Neither can I," said Fred. "They're so kinda separated."
"Disconnected," agreed Alice.
"I can't imagine a conspiracy, either," admitted Duff, "because I truly believe that neither Gertrude nor Isabel would admit to her sisters that she was a murderess. Not even to themselves," he said, ''will they admit anything. So how admit a thing like that to anyone else?"
"Maud would, though," said Fred.
"Maud might."
"Well," said Alice, ''maybe Maud could have done it all, with Mr. Johnson helping."
Fred's eyes flickered. Duff said, "Please don't bring up Mr. Johnson."
"He moves awful quiet," said Fred disobediently. "Maybe he sneaked up the back stairs and pushed the lamp."
"He didn't," groaned Duff. "He didn't move the detour
♦>
sign edther. He's got an alibi for attempts number one and two."
"What?"
''Oh, yes. Oh, yes. The most perfect alibi. He's only got one pair of pants in all the world and they . . ."
"Were torn!" cried Fred. "Say . . . ! He was hanging around the car, caught his pocket. . .'
"Don't," begged Duff, "mention it'
"All right, but why wouldn't he have turned the dampers?" said Alice, bringing them back to their muttons.
"Josephine says not."
"Why not?"
"The back door makes a racket, even if he doesn't. And don't talk to me about the front door. I'll tell you right now that if he did it, I'm licked. Because I do not imderstand Mr. Johnson."
Fred grinned. "Look," he said, "the trouble with him is, there's nothing to understand. He's practically a blank page. He just says the first thing that comes into his head. He's a simple-minded guy. Not crazy, I don't mean that. But he just barges along from one minute to the next. He doesn't worry, he doesn't even think. He's simple. That's all."
Duff said, "I am too civilized. I have often suspected it."
"Most people are," said Fred generously. ''Say, you've got to see that Indian two or three times before you can believe in him."
"Thank you," said Duff humbly. Alice opened her mouth again.
This Fred! she thought.
21
Shadows were longer across the road. Duff lit another cigarette. "Now, let us deal with the faking business. Are any of them faking? Can we tell? Do we know?"
"Isabel hasn't got a real right hand," said Fred. "We know that"
"Yes, we know that''
"About Gertrude," said Alice. "She must be blind.'' "I see nothing to deny it," said Duff. "She didn't trip on color. Remember, I miscalled the color of the ash tray? There's nothing in her room to indicate sight. If she can see, she is far more wUy and devious and subtle and deliberately maHcious than we think."
"Well, I think she probably is wilier than I think she is. I mean . . ." Alice began to flounder.
"Irish bull, Brennan," said Fred. "Get to Maud. Old happy-go-lucky."
"It's possible," said Duff, "that Maud is not deaf, or at least not as deaf as she makes out."
"But for heaven's sake," said Alice, "if she can hear, why go to all that trouble of making people write things down and learning finger talk and all the nuisance! Why would anybody do that? If Maud's so lazy, I should think ..."
"Wait," said Duff. "Imagine Maud, years ago. Bring up the past. I'm used to it. You try. Remember, one sister is blind. As such, she gets special service, doesn't she? And she is exempt from duty. The other sister has only one arm. Special service again. Exemption from duties. Leaving the third sister, who is whole, in the position of the only one in the lot who might be expected to run errands, attend to small chores, deal with tradespeople, take responsibilities, be the general overseer. There are many small executive duties connected with the running of a house. Interruptions and nuisances. Do you imagine Maud taking kindly to them? On the contrary, I think Maud's laziness perfecdy consistent with a gradual fake loss of hearing. Her sisters say, "You go, Maud"—''Maud had better"—"Maud, will you"; but pretty soon, Maud stops hearing these requests, stops being useful. Maud loafs.