‘In the morning I enquired again for Eliza, but the woman at the reception desk said that Eliza had gone over to the mainland on hotel business.’
‘Which day of the week would this have been?’ Dame Beatrice enquired. ‘I mean, which day did you arrive on Great Skua?’
‘It was on the Thursday, nearly a week before my husband and the children were due to arrive. I was particularly distressed that I could not see Eliza immediately, since I had given my cousin a date for my arrival at her cottage and I most certainly did not want her telephoning my home to find out why I had not arrived. To add to my perturbation, I learned that there was not another boat until the Saturday, so I was left to get through the whole of Friday the best way I could. Well, to pass the time, I went to look at a house which the chambermaid had mentioned as being to let for the summer. I walked up to the front window, but could not see much because of the curtains, so, having plenty of time in hand, I went round to the back. There was a most unpleasant sight just outside the kitchen door.’
‘We know about the pig,’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘Covered in flies! And blood all around and about! It was absolutely nauseating, and I left the house more quickly than I had come to it. Before I got back to the hotel, however, it struck me that it was very strange to have killed a pig and left it outside the kitchen door, so I went to take another look. There was nobody about. I tried the outhouses. All but one were open. I looked in through the window of the locked shed and saw something under a sheet. It looked so much like a body covered up that, without more ado, I fled back to the hotel, but on the way upstairs I ran into the woman Crimp.
‘ “Ah”, she said, “you are finding something to do with yourself, I hope. I am sorry you’ve missed Mrs Chayleigh, but she’ll be here on Saturday’s boat.” ’
‘ “I didn’t want Mrs Chayleigh,” I said. She looked surprised.
‘ “You asked for Eliza,” she said. “I took it for granted you meant Mrs Chayleigh. She is the only woman on the island, so far as I know, whose name is Eliza.”
‘ “This is Great Skua, isn’t it?” I asked.
‘ “It’s Great Skua, certainly,” she answered. “Oh, well, I must get on. You haven’t been looking at Puffins, have you?”
‘ “Puffins?” I said. “I don’t know one kind of seabird from another.” ’
‘They call the nearby house Puffins,’ said Marius.
‘Well, how could I know that? There was nothing to say so. Anyway, I was not going to tell anybody that I had been to the house because I knew there was something strange about it, apart from the thing under the sheet.’
‘Something strange?’ asked Dame Beatrice.
‘There were big packing cases in all the other sheds. I was curious enough to prise up a loose board in one of them. It contained rifles. I was seriously alarmed, then, for my own safety, as I realised that no stranger would be expected to explore the premises without permission. I wondered whether any eyes had been watching when I approached the house and what would happen if such had been the case.’
‘Yes, we live in a lawless age,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘I can only add that all the packing-cases had been removed before Laura and I moved in.’
‘I cannot think what possessed you, Clothilde,’ said Marius severely.
‘Well, how was I to know about all those guns and things?’
‘I think you must tell your story to the police,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘It is most important.’
‘Well, really, I feel I must agree with Dame Beatrice,’ said Marius. ‘What do you think, my dear?’ he asked, turning to his wife and speaking in a gentle tone. ‘Are you prepared to do your duty as a citizen?’
‘Oh, I suppose so,’ Clothilde replied.
‘Well, if you do,’ said Sebastian, ‘be sure to have your solicitor present and don’t answer anything unless he says you may, will you?’
‘I’m not an idiot,’ replied his mother with asperity.
‘I must have notice of that reply,’ murmured her son.
‘Besides,’ his mother went on, ‘I have not finished my story. By the time I got to Cousin Marie’s cottage I was almost penniless.’
‘Surely you didn’t suppose you could ask Cousin Marie for your fare home!’ exclaimed Marius.
‘I was in great distress, but when I arrived at the cottage Cousin Marie was even more affected. Miss Potter had left her.’
‘How do you mean — left her?’ asked Marius.
‘I mean exactly what I say. Miss Potter had gone off, leaving a note in which she said that her expectations had at last been realised, so she could stop being a burden on Cousin Marie, as justice had been done at last and she was off to foreign parts and hoped never to return to England.’
‘Didn’t she even say goodbye?’ asked Margaret.
‘Apparently not. Then Marie told me something which absolutely astonished me. Who do you think Miss Potter turns out to be?’
‘I gave up guessing games when I left the nursery,’ said Sebastian.
‘Why, it seems that Marie had known all the time that Miss Potter was second cousin to that old Miss Chayleigh who left Eliza the hotel (only it was a house then) and the estate on Great Skua.’
‘Well, that accounts for two things,’ said Sebastian. ‘It accounts for Cousin Marie’s putting up with that crawler for all these years…’
‘Yes, Marie was always looking out for the main chance,’ continued Clothilde. ‘I suppose Miss Potter gave out that she had expectations and Marie hoped to cash in on them some fine day.’
‘It also accounts for their visit to Great Skua last year,’ said Sebastian. ‘I always thought that visit was a bit odd. Cheltenham and Bournemouth were their kind of holiday places, not a bit of granite stuck out in the Atlantic Ocean. I suppose there was something in Eliza’s acknowledgment of their booking which gave the Potter cause to think that Eliza was leaving her something substantial in her will. Perhaps she thought she owed her something, as old Miss Chayleigh had left her nothing.’
‘I wonder,’ said Margaret, ‘whether it was the Potter creep who altered the name on that tombstone?’
‘When they visited Great Skua last year?’ said Sebastian. ‘I should think that’s more than likely. The stone-cutting was very roughly done and wasn’t all that fresh.’
‘The red paint was, though. Done by Farmer Allen Cranby, the other relative, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘I say,’ exclaimed Sebastian, addressing himself to Dame Beatrice, ‘you don’t think Potter was Crimp’s accessory to the murder of Aunt Eliza, do you? I mean, somebody must have helped Crimp to haul the body out of Puffins and heave it over the cliff.’
‘Now that I have heard Mrs Lovelaine’s story, I certainly think the police would like to have an account of Miss Potter’s movements after she left your cousin’s cottage,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘I wonder when she took her departure?’
‘Oh, I can tell you that,’ said Clothilde. ‘It would have been early on the Saturday morning before I got to the cottage.’
‘Well, that seems to settle one thing,’ said Laura. ‘If she was with your cousin up to that Saturday morning, she has a clear alibi for the time Eliza Chayleigh was murdered.’