‘And you think that’s how the joker got out after frightening Mrs. Thorne….’
‘That’s what we thought, but our hopes went up in smoke. Once inside, we found dust everywhere, including the floorboards, but no footprints. The room hadn’t been visited for donkey’s years.
‘That leaves the testimony of Mrs. Thorne herself, you’re about to say,’ he continued, with thinly concealed irritation. ‘Dr. Meadows only authorised her to speak to us late in the afternoon. So we waited… fruitlessly. She remembered standing outside her husband’s study with Meadows and Miss Blount and knocking on the door. But after that, nothing, a black hole. Because she was still in a state of shock, we didn’t insist. Redfern has questioned her since then, but with no better result. According to Meadows, it’s quite possible — given the initial shock, followed by another in the form of the death of her husband — that she will never remember.’
Dr. Twist nodded his head in silence, then asked:
‘Did you ask her what she and her husband were quarrelling about? And why they left again so soon after coming back in?’
‘Yes, but without learning anything new. The subject of their dispute was Meadows. Thorne suspected him of making secret advances to his wife, who — according to Thorne again — did nothing to discourage him. In most people’s eyes, his suspicions were not justified. Apparently he had veritable fits of jealousy… “harder and harder to tolerate,” she confessed, with tears in her eyes. After the meal, Harris Thorne had gone up to his study and she had joined him a little later. Straight away, he reproached her for inviting Meadows and his fiancée… and they quarrelled about it until half past eight, when she finally succeeded in calming him down. She suggested they go out for some fresh air, which he didn’t object to, and they left together. But no sooner were they outside than he started again. She came back in, and you know the rest.
‘By the way, the study was thoroughly examined, without the slightest result. There was no trace of the liquid which had wet the carpet near the fireplace, so it was most likely water.’
Hurst ended his account by shrugging his shoulders and lighting a cigar.
‘The least you can say,’ said Alan Twist thoughtfully, ‘is that it’s all far from clear. If you go back to the death of Harvey Thorne, you could conclude that there’s something dormant in that room which doesn’t like to be disturbed. Secondly, that something terrifies people to the point of causing them to die on the spot, lose consciousness or jump out of the window… Thirdly, that something is invisible, or rather it evaporates immediately after showing itself… an evaporation which nevertheless leaves traces on the carpet.’
‘Are you thinking about some aquatic monster?’ thundered Hurst. ‘A creature with a body so translucent it’s not even visible?’
‘Straight out of a Scottish lake? No, my friend, that’s not what I said. I just stated the problem as it appears,’ he added, with an amused gleam behind his pince-nez.
‘Can you tell me what’s causing you to smile, Twist?’
The eminent detective regarded his friend amicably. His sparse hair — always carefully combed across his pink cranium — had a peculiar characteristic; once he began to see red, it invariably flopped down over his forehead, as it was doing now.
‘What makes me smile is your talent for getting involved in the most complicated cases. Usually, the problem is posed differently: an obvious case of murder where it is shown that nobody could have done it. Here, there’s no murder as such, but a “thing” which frightens people and disappears. A woman faints, a man throws himself out of a window… although murder can’t be excluded.’
‘It’s a possibility I’ve never ruled out,’ said Hurst in an unctuous voice. ‘The inheritance Thorne left behind is certainly food for thought, to say the least. From now on, his widow will own a fortune.’
‘It all goes to her?’
‘Every last penny. He must have thought that his brother, whose own fortune includes half the manor and a number of shares in the company, was well enough off. So he left it all to her. He made his will a few days after they were married, without telling her or anyone else. Did Brian feel frustrated? I can’t say. In any case, supposing it turns out to be murder, we can’t rule anyone out on the grounds they didn’t know they’d inherit. But if he did kill his brother, I doubt that it would have been for money. He’s… how to put it… rather special and that warning issued not long before the accident seems quite suspect. What do you think?’
Dr. Twist, whose eyes were closed, seemed to have dozed off.
‘Let’s leave that aside for the time being,’ he said suddenly. ‘Suppose there was a murder, either by pushing Harris Thorne directly out of the window or by leading him to jump himself, by whatever Machiavellian trick. Can you summarise the evening for me, with the times and movements of each individual?’
‘Of course,’ said the inspector, pulling out his notebook. ‘I’ve already done that. Here goes.’
7.30. End of meal. Mrs. Paula Hilton gets up from table and is not seen until much later. Says she “went to get some air and calm herself down, because she sensed that something was being hatched.”
7.45. Harris goes up to his study. His wife follows shortly after. Brian goes to his room.
8.00. Dr. Meadows and Miss Bessie Blount ring the door bell. Butler escorts them to salon. Mr. and Mrs. Hilton and son Francis already there. Noises of quarrel upstairs start to be heard.
8.20. Francis Hilton, who had gone to find his wife, runs into Brian upstairs. Brian, upset by his brother’s behaviour, goes down to salon.
8.30. The Hiltons leave salon. The loud noises have stopped.
8.45. The Thornes go out. They’ve hardly left when the quarrel starts again. Mrs. Thorne returns overwrought and goes to salon. Husband rushes in and goes upstairs. Brian follows him. Mrs. Thorne and Miss Blount go out for walk.
8.50. The moment when Harris Thorne is seen alive for the last time, leaning out of window, beside himself, refusing to talk. (Note that information provided by Brian, who claims to have left the study immediately.) Death of Harris confirmed as being around 8.50-9.00.
9.05. Sarah Thorne and Bessie Blount, near the front gate, surprise an unidentified person who flees.
9.15. Dr. Meadows, his fiancée and Mrs. Thorne go up to study. Mrs. Thorne faints on opening door but room is empty. Miss Blount looks out of window, sees nothing suspicious, then notices or hears Francis Hilton and wife approaching manor. They find body while opening service door.
‘Getting back to the fatal moment, around 8.50 to 9.00. The most solid alibi is undoubtedly that of Sarah Thorne, who was out walking with Bessie Blount. It’s difficult to picture a conspiracy on their part. As far as Mr. and Mrs. Hilton are concerned, they furnish each other an alibi, but then they’re a married couple, so… Their son Francis has no alibi. He was outdoors looking for his wife, who hasn’t got an explanation for her actions either. Dr. Meadows was in the salon alone: no alibi either. The same goes for Brian, who was in his room, next to the study….’
‘Admit it. If it was murder, you think it was Brian who did it!’
Archibald Hurst gave a sly smile.
‘We questioned him for quite a long time. Gently, I can assure you. A few questions about his supposed powers… What I can certify to you is that he isn’t a charlatan in the proper sense of the term, meaning that he really believes in his powers of prediction. He confirmed the prophetic warning to his brother. “It was inevitable,” he said repeatedly. I don’t say he’s a murderer, but he made a curious impression… Anyway, what do you make of it all? Murder or suicide?’