‘Well, it’s no secret now. He was up before the magistrates yesterday. The real Everton is still having a nervous breakdown somewhere in Devon. They picked him carefully. He doesn’t seem to have any relations, and his friends were the sort you pick up doing business over a drink or a lunch – easy come, easy go. It was “poor old Everton” for a bit, and then nobody bothered. He’s too bad to write letters. He just dropped clean out. I gather there’s no real likeness between him and Schmidt, but a superficial description of one would fit the other – height, figure, colouring. He seems to have played the part of the cheerful little man with country tastes and a liking for having a finger in everybody’s pie, and to have played it very well indeed.’
Miss Sophy sat up and said, ‘I don’t believe it was a part. I believe it was what he might have been if that wretched Hitler had left him alone. When you think how many, many people were killed in the last war, it does seem a pity Hitler shouldn’t have been one of them.’
Frank Abbott turned an appreciative eye upon her.
‘Thanks for those kind words, Miss Fell.’
With a faint cough Miss Silver resumed.
‘From the moment I had talked with Mrs Mottram it was, of course, clear to me that Mr Everton’s alibi for Tuesday night was no alibi at all. He called Mrs Mottram’s attention to a shot which she did not hear and, looking at his watch, remarked that it was a quarter to ten. Actually, I believe that it was then half-past nine. He ran very little risk, as Mrs Mottram does not wear a watch and has no clock in her drawing-room.’
‘Watches won’t go on me,’ said Ida, looking round for sympathy. ‘They say it’s electricity or something. And I can’t sit in the room with a clock – it worries me. But I’m practically sure I did hear something chime – and of course I thought it was a quarter to ten like he said.’
Miss Silver smiled at her.
‘Yes, my dear – I think he counted on that. He left you at half-past nine, and four or five minutes later he entered the church. I felt sure all along that the murderer was on friendly terms with Mr Harsch, and that some conversation preceded the shot. You see, the curtain which screens the organist was pulled back, and no one seems to have heard the organ later than a very few minutes after half-past nine. Unless the murderer makes a statement, we shall never know quite what happened. But since the appearance of suicide was aimed at, it would be necessary to put Mr Harsch off his guard, and to hold him in conversation until the next set of chimes fell due at a quarter to ten. Schmidt would be watching the time, standing close up to the organ stool. To pass as suicide, the shot must be fired at point-blank range. The three chimes for the quarter begin. At the second he fires. Mr Harsch falls down. Schmidt has only to wipe the weapon, clasp his victim’s hand upon it, and let it drop again, releasing the pistol. If Ezra Pincott had not been in the Church Cut upon his own affairs that night, there is no doubt that a very wicked plan would have succeeded.’
Garth laughed.
‘Ezra was after Giles’ rabbits!’ he said. ‘He could get rabbits anywhere, but it tickled him to get Giles’s – he’d been doing it for years. And a clever old poacher like him wouldn’t be foxed over which side of the road that shot came from. There wasn’t anything about sounds that Ezra wasn’t up to – I’ve been out with him and I know. He told me once he could hear an earwig walking on a leaf, and I believe him.’
‘That is very interesting, Major Albany. To continue. Hearing the shot, Ezra ran to the door in the churchyard wall and opened it. He saw Schmidt leave the church, and ran after him. We know that he caught him up, since Sam and Gladys now say, what would have been more useful if said at once, that, returning from their walk by way of the road which passes the houses, they observed Mr Everton and Ezra in conversation at Mr Everton’s gate. They heard Ezra say, “Drunk or sober, it’ll be something to talk about in the morning”, and he then went off laughing.’
‘Fit to bust himself,’ said Frank Abbott. ‘They also say that a little later on they saw Miss Doncaster come out and post a letter. As soon as she’d gone in they went into the churchyard. When I asked them why they hadn’t said all this when it was some use, they said it was only old Ezra and Mr Everton, and that old Miss Doncaster that’s always posting letters, and Gladys giggled and said, “You wouldn’t think she’d have a boyfriend, would you?” ’ He turned to Miss Silver, sitting on the footstool with his arms locked about his knees.
‘Reverend preceptress, why don’t you say, “I told you so”?’
He got an indulgent smile, but before Miss Silver could speak footsteps were heard in the hall and the door was flung open. Striding past the indignant Mabel, Mr Madoc bounced the door shut and comprehended the assembled party in a scowl of greeting. There was some kind of an inclination of the head in the direction of Miss Sophy and Miss Silver, after which his frowning regard came to rest upon his wife, who sat there as if she had been turned to stone. He addressed her in a series of angry jerks.
‘If you’re coming home you had better pack your box! Pincott’s van will call for it in half an hour!’
Without waiting for an answer he turned and went out. The door banged after him. The front door banged.
Medora Brown got up. Her marmorial pallor seemed to have gone for good. She was very much flushed, and she looked as if she might be going to cry. She came over to the sofa and said, ‘Dear Miss Sophy – may I?’ and then fairly ran out of the room.
Garth said, ‘Gosh!’ And then, ‘How long will it last?’
Miss Silver gave him a glance of mild reproof.
‘They have both been so very unhappy,’ she said. ‘I do not really think she will find him difficult to manage. Tact and affection should cure him of expecting to be hurt. I saw at once that that was the trouble, and I believe she will be able to deal with it.’
Garth just gazed, until Miss Silver turned back to her audience. Then he leaned over Janice, on the arm of whose chair he was sitting, and murmured, she hoped inaudibly, ‘Darling – swear to be tactful and affectionate.’
Miss Silver coughed.