A knock at the door preceded the appearance of an oldish tired man carrying a bundle made out of a handkerchief. He saluted. I
'Sergeant Hamper, sir. I have the dead man's belongings here. And the police surgeon would like to speak to you.'
A mild-mannered, peering little man with a goatee doddered in at the door.
`Howdy!' he said, pushing his derby hat slightly back on his head with the hand containing his black satchel. In the other he held a straight length of steel. `Here's your weapon, Hadley. Hur-umph… No, no fingerprints. I washed it'
He doddered over to the table, examined it as though he were looking for a suitable place, and put down the crossbow bolt. It was rounded, thin, and about eighteen inches long, with a barbed steel head.
`Funny-lookin' things they're usin' nowadays,' commented the doctor, rubbing his nose.
`It's a crossbow bolt from the late fourteenth century!
'My eye,' said the doctor, 'and Betty Martin. Look what's engraved down it. "Souvenir de Carcassonne, 1932." The pirate French sell 'em at little souvenir booths'
`But, Doctor said Sir. William.
The other blinked at him. `My, name,' he observed, with a sudden querulous suspicion — 'my name, sir, is Watson. Doctor Watson. And if any alleged humorist… squeaked the doctor, flourishing his satchel — `if any alleged humorist makes the obvious remark, I'll brain him. For thirty years on this force I've been hearin' nothing else. And I'm tired of it. People hiss at me round corners. They ask me for needles and four-wheelers and Shag tobacco, and have I my revolver handy?'
Laura Bitton had paid no attention to this tirade. She had grown a trifle pale, and she was standing motionless, staring down at the crossbow bolt.
She said, in a voice she tried to keep matter-of-fact:
`I know where this belongs, Mr Hadley.!
'You've seen it before?'
'It comes,' said Mrs Bitton, in a careful voice, `from our house. Lester and I bought it when we were on a walking trip in southern France.'
7. Mrs Larkin's Cuff
`Sit down, everybody!' Hadley said, sharply. `This place is turning into a madhouse. You're certain of that, Mrs Bitton?'
She seemed to recover herself from an almost hypnotized stare at the bright steel
‘I., I mean… of course I can't; say. Things like that are on sale at Carcassonne, and hundreds of people must buy them.'
`Quite,' Hadley agreed, dryly. `However, you bought one just like it. Where did you keep it?'
`I honestly don't know. I haven't seen it for months. I remember when we returned from the trip I ran across it in the baggage and thought, "Now, why on earth did I buy that stupid thing?" My impression is that I chucked it away somewhere.'
Hadley turned the bolt over in his hand, weighing it. Then he felt the point and sides of the head,
`Mrs Bitton, the point, and barb are as sharp as a knife. Was it like that when you bought it?'
`Good Lord, no! It was very blunt. You couldn't possibly have cut yourself with it.'
`As a matter of fact,' said the chief inspector, holding the head close, 'I think it's been filed and whetted. And there's something else. Has anybody got a lens?… Ah, thanks; Hamper.' He took the small magnifying glass which the sergeant passed over, and tilted up the bolt to scrutinize the engraving along the side. `Somebody has been trying to efface this Souvenir de Carcassonne thing with a file. H'm. And it isn't as though the person had given it up as a bad job. The s-o-u part is blurred and filed almost out, systematically. It's as though the person had been interrupted and hadn't finished his job.'
He put down the bolt glumly. Dr Watson, having evidently satisfied himself that nobody was in a joking mood, had grown more amiable.
`Well. I'm goin', he volunteered. `Anything, you want to know? No use tellin' you that did for him.. Clean puncture; plenty of strength behind it. Might have lived half a minute, Hur-umph. Oh yes. Concussion. Might have, got it falling down the steps, or maybe somebody batted him. That's your job.'
`What about the time of death, Watson? The doctor here says he died between one-thirty and one-forty-five.'
`Oh,' he does, does he?' said the police surgeon. `Wasn't a bad guess, though. He died about ten minutes to two. I'll take him along in the ambulance for a good look, and let you know.'
He doddered out, swinging his black bag.
`But look here!' protested Sir William, when the door had closed. 'He can't possibly know it so exactly, can he? I thought doctors gave a good deal of leeway on a thing like that.'
`He doesn't,' said Hadley. `That's why he's so invaluable. And in twenty years I've never known him more than ten minutes wrong about the, time of death.'
He turned to Laura Bitton.
`To proceed, Mrs Bitton. Let's assume that this bolt came from your house. Who knew it was there?'
`Why, everybody, I imagine. I don't remember, but I suppose I must have shown the junk we accumulated on that trip.'
'Had you seen it before, Sir William?'
`I'm not sure,' the other answered, slowly. `I may, have. But I can't recall ever having seen it. Ah yes. Ha! Now I know, Laura. You and Lester made the trip while I was abroad in the States, and I came back after you. That accounts for it.'
Hadley drew a long breath. `There's no use speculating,' he said, `We shall have to make inquiries at the house…and now, Mrs Bitton, I, don't think we need detain you any longer. One of the warders will escort you to a cab. Or perhaps Sir William will do it… And look here, old man he put his hand on the knight's arm `you've a perfect right to stay, if you like; at least, I shan't try to drive you away.. But you've had a trying day. Don't you think it would be better if you went home with Mrs Bitton?'
`No — I'm waiting to hear what you have to say to Arbor.'
`Which is exactly what you mustn't do, don't you see? It would spoil everything.'
`Tell you what, Bitton,' the General suggested, gruffly, `go up to my rooms. Parker will give you a cigar and a brandy, and if there's any news we'll let you know. That Devereux record is in the portfolio in my desk; have a look at it.'
Sir William rose to his great height. As he turned towards the woman, Rampole turned also and Rampole was startled to see on Laura's face an expression of stark terror. It was riot caused by anything she saw; it was the expression of one who remembers something momentarily forgotten; who stops breathless, eyes opening wide. It was gone immediately, and Rampole wondered whether Hadley had noticed it.
`I don't suppose I might be allowed to remain?' she asked, in her cool voice. But two kinks were working at the corners of her nostrils, and she seemed 'almost to have stopped breathing. `I might be helpful.' As Hadley smiled and shook his head, she seemed to weigh something in her mind. Then she shrugged. `Ah, well. Excuse the morbid curiosity. And I will go home in a cab. Good afternoon, gentlemen.'
She nodded curtly. Followed by her brother-in-law, she swung out of the room.
`Hum!' said General Mason, after a long pause. The fire was getting low, and. he kicked at it. Then he noticed Sergeant Hamper, who had been standing, patient and forgotten, since Dr Watson's entrance; and the general did not continue. `Oh, ah yes,' the chief inspector coughed, as though he had just noticed it, too. `Sorry, Hamper, for keeping you waiting. Those are the contents of the pockets you have there, eh? Put them down, and see if you can pick up any news from the chief warder. But before you do, go across the way and find Mrs Amanda Larkin. Wait about five minutes, and send her in here.'
The sergeant saluted and withdrew. Hadley contemplated the small bundle on the desk before him, but he did not immediately open it.
`I say, Mr Hadley,' said the General. `What did you make of that woman?'
`Mrs Bitton? I wonder… She's an old hand at evasion, and a very good one. She sees the traps as soon as you set them. What do you know about her?'