‘At the time of the accident, Francis is roaming around upstairs. He goes into the study and realises straight away what’s happened. He also understands that his sister’s situation is far worse than it seems. Harris is a rich man, very rich. Sarah, on the other hand, is from a far more modest background and her recent marriage has made her aware of the advantages of a large fortune. A marriage too recent, in fact, for anyone to accept without question the assumption of an unfortunate accident. And the rumours about a possible affair between his sister and Meadows don’t help matters. To cap it all, the couple’s constant fighting is widely known. In a word, the fabulous inheritance due to his sister might not go to her at all. And in that case, he wouldn’t see any of it either.
‘Needless to say, all those thoughts race through Francis’s mind in less time than it takes to tell. And he finds the answer: if Sarah has an alibi, her version of the accident will be accepted without objection. Therefore, she has to have an alibi. Admittedly, the one he’s about to create from scratch in mere minutes might not hold water, but with such a prize at stake, it’s worth trying. He sends Sarah away to find the red wig, the false beard and one of the deceased’s blue jackets. The illusion he’s about to create has every chance of succeeding. All that’s needed is for people to see a mane of red hair and a blue jacket, which will immediately make them think of Harris. The plan is simplicity itself: to prove that Harris is still alive at that moment. From then on, and until the discovery of the body, Sarah has to be in the company of one or more trustworthy witnesses. And the body must be found as soon as possible. Sarah must therefore go back up to the study under the watchful eye of several witnesses.
‘At a quarter to nine, Sarah and her “husband” appear to leave the manor. They link arms and press against each other, in order for people to catch no more than a glimpse of the false Harris. Once outside, Sarah simulates a new quarrel, complete with loud cries, in order to give her a reason to return alone to the salon and join the others — after which “Harris” is seen crossing the hall rapidly. So far, so good. But then things start to get tricky. Brian decides to follow him — at a discreet distance, luckily for Francis. Brian calls out to him and we can understand why Francis doesn’t answer. As he enters the study, he knows he’s only got a few seconds to dispose of the body. The only solution is to throw it out of the window. When Brian enters, he sees the false Harris leaning out of the window, breathing heavily like a man beside himself with rage. Brian, too distressed to notice the trickery, leaves. And we can imagine Francis’s deep sigh of relief. He’s had a narrow escape and now he must think. The body is below the window at present. Which is not such a bad thing. Harris, in one of his many fits of jealousy, has finally committed suicide by throwing himself out of the window. It’s actually more believable than if he’d been found in front of the fireplace as originally planned. The fireplace… Catastrophe! Blood on the edge of the stone! He quickly fetches some water to clean it up.’
‘The water on the carpet,’ murmured Bessie.
‘That’s right,’ agreed Dr. Twist. ‘You can imagine the scene. There’s no time to lose. Water’s sprinkled around the spot, it gets scrubbed vigorously and then wiped down with the first piece of cloth which comes to hand to remove the moisture… but the carpet inevitably stays wet.
‘After all that effort, our impromptu house cleaner escapes via the spiral staircase and the service exit, so as to inspect the body and arrange it in such a way as to give credibility to the idea of a fall. Luckily, the stones from the rock garden are to hand, and one of them will be used to inflict a second mortal wound to Harris’s temple. Francis hasn’t forgotten about Sarah, who will soon find the study empty, but that shouldn’t pose too much of a problem. She’ll be surprised, of course, but that’s all. He thinks about Paula as well, who’s been gone for quite some time. He wanders about the property shouting her name. As luck would have it, he finds her just as she’s climbing over the railings by the entrance gate and….’ Twist coughed and Patrick smiled wanly.
‘But that’s of no importance. Let’s go back to Sarah, who enters the study at a quarter past nine in the company of Dr. Meadows and Miss Blount, fully expecting to emit horrified shrieks upon discovering her husband in the place where he’s supposed to be. Sarah, who’s begun the day with a heart murmur, who’s still affected by the quarrel with her husband — whom she’s just killed accidentally almost an hour earlier — and who’s gathering all her strength to play a sensitive and difficult role. She opens the door and… horror of horrors: she doesn’t see anything! Her husband’s body, which should have been lying in front of the fireplace, has disappeared! Need I say more?’
‘No,’ mumbled Redfern. ‘Looked at from that point of view, everything seems clear.’
Hurst nodded his agreement with intense satisfaction. For once in his career, he wasn’t the one playing student to Twist’s teacher.
‘So much for the first act of the drama,’ continued Dr. Twist. ‘As the burial arrangements for Harris are being prepared, Francis’s little grey cells are working overtime. His sister’s now rich, but what does the future hold for him? Such a beautiful woman won’t remain a widow for long. And when she remarries, who knows what’ll happen? His twisted mind soon conceives a Machiavellian plan. His sister has to die before her second wedding, so that her fortune will revert to Francis and his parents — which is to say him, in practice. I won’t reveal the key to his sinister plan right now — Mr. Nolan will take care of that in a few minutes — all you need to know for the moment is that it required a small amount of preparation in the days following his brother-in-law’s death and a bit of regular maintenance afterwards.
‘The perfect crime he prepared is well worthy of such a description, for several reasons. Sarah’s death wouldn’t arouse any suspicion — as we’ve already seen. He wouldn’t run much of a risk before the fatal day, even if he were to be caught in the act. Nor afterwards, either. He might have difficulty justifying his actions, but in the eyes of the law it wouldn’t constitute a criminal offence. A perfect crime, then, but one which, curiously, isn’t enough to satisfy him. He wants to confuse the situation in a masterly fashion by arranging for his sisters’ forthcoming death to be announced by means of one of Brian’s notorious predictions. And in the meantime, he’ll amuse himself by reinforcing Brian’s reputation as a prophet. Give Francis his due: Brian’s predictions, following on those of Harvey, did muddle the case to such a degree that we didn’t know which way to turn in the face of such an avalanche of mysteries. Needless to say, he’ll also exploit the reputation of the “madman’s room,” not forgetting the detail of the wet carpet. In its way, it’s a masterpiece of misdirection, and Sarah’s death — a natural death, albeit caused by a diabolical machination — will seem perfectly understandable. She’ll be the tree hidden in the forest. The question to consider now is how Francis managed to lead Brian to make such prophecies.
‘And that takes us to the second act, which begins as soon as Francis learns that Sarah and Meadows have fallen for each other. Bound together as they are by the secret of her husband’s death, his sister hides nothing from him and so he’s fully aware of her feelings. To cut a long story short, he initiates the next phase of his plan, namely the fulfilment of two of Brian’s prophecies. The soothsayer announces that Francis will win a small fortune and also that he will suffer a small incident which will, in its own way, be a prelude to Sarah’s death. It’s quite clear by now that Francis’s fainting on the sill of the cursed room was staged, and that he deliberately hit his head on the doorframe to cause blood to flow and add a touch of realism to the proceedings. There was a row of pewter pots on the mantelpiece, one of which had been filled with water ahead of time. It was emptied onto the carpet just before the simulated fainting. I haven’t any proof of that, but it’s the only time the carpet could have been wetted.’