Not that bodies need necessarily interfere with ones enjoyment of ones food.  la guerre comme  la guerre. But for the moment there isnt a war on. Thats true, sir. But youre assuming the death took place on the Wednesday or Thursday. She may have been somewhere elseliving with someone in town or anywhere. Crushed again, said Wimsey. Still, its a curious coincidence. It is, my lord, and Im very glad you found the things. Will you take charge of em, Mr. Parker, or shall I? Better take them along and put them with the other things, said Parker, extending his hand to take them from Wimsey, whom they seemed to interest quite disproportionately. I fancy his lordships right and that the parcel came here along with the girl. And that certainly looks as if she didnt come alone. Possibly that young man of hers was with her. Looks like the old, old story. Take care of that bottle, old man, it may have fingerprints on it. You can have the bottle, said Wimsey. May we neer lack a friend or a bottle to give him, as Dick Swiveller says. But I earnestly beg that before you caution your respectable young railway clerk that anything he says may be taken down and used against him, you will cast your eye, and your nose, upon this ham sandwich. Whats wrong with it? inquired Parker. Nothing. It appears to be in astonishingly good preservation, thanks to this admirable oaktree. The stalwart oakfor so many centuries Britains bulwark against the invader! Heart of oak are our shipsnot hearts, by the way, as it is usually misquoted. But I am puzzled by the incongruity between the sandwich and the rest of the outfit. Its an ordinary ham sandwich, isnt it? Oh, gods of the wineflask and the board, how long? how long?it is a ham sandwich, Goth, but not an ordinary one. Never did it see Lyons kitchen, or the counter of the multiple store or the delicatessen shop in the back street. The pig that was sacrificed to make this dainty titbit fattened in no dull style, never knew the daily ration of pigwash or the not unmixed rapture of the domestic garbagepail. Observe the hard texture, the deep brownish tint of the lean; the rich fat, yellow as a Chinamans cheek; the dark spot where the black treacle cure has soaked in, to make a dish fit to lure Zeus from Olympus. And tell me, man of no discrimination and worthy to be fed on boiled cod all the year round, tell me how it comes that your little waitress and her railway clerk come down to Epping Forest to regale themselves on sandwiches made from coalblack, treaclecured Bradenham ham, which long ago ran as a young wild boar about the woodlands, till death translated it to an incorruptible and more glorious body? I may add that it costs about 3s. a pound uncookedan argument which you will allow to be weighty. Thats odd, certainly, said Parker. I imagine that only rich people Only rich people or people who understand eating as a fine art, said Wimsey. The two classes are by no means identical, though they occasionally overlap. It may be very important, said Parker, wrapping the exhibits up carefully. Wed better go along now and see the body. The examination was not a very pleasant matter, for the weather had been damp and warm and there had certainly been weasels. In fact, after a brief glance, Wimsey left the two policemen to carry on alone, and devoted his attention to the dead girls handbag. He glanced through the letter from Evelyn Gotobed(now Evelyn Cropper)and noted down the Canadian address. He turned the cutting of his own advertisement out of an inner compartment, and remained for some time in consideration of the 5 note which lay, folded up, side by side with a 10s. Treasury note, 7s. 8d. in silver and copper, a latchkey and a powder compact. Youre having this note traced, Walmisley, I suppose? Oh, yes, my lord, certainly. And the latchkey, I imagine, belongs to the girls lodgings. No doubt it does. We have asked her landlady to come and identify the body. Not that theres any doubt about it, but just as a matter of routine. She may give us some help. Ah!the Superintendent peered out of the mortuary doorI think this must be the lady. The stout and motherly woman who emerged from a taxi in charge of a youthful policeman identified the body without difficulty, and amid many sobs, as that of Bertha Gotobed. Such a nice young lady, she mourned. What a terrible thing, oh, dear! who would go to do a thing like that? Ive been in such a state of worriment ever since she didnt come home last Wednesday. Im sure manys the time Ive said to myself I wished Id had my tongue cut out before I ever showed her that wicked advertisement. Ah, I see youve got it there, sir. A dreadful thing it is that people should be luring young girls away with stories about something to their advantage. A sinful old devilcalling himself a lawyer, too! When she didnt come back and didnt come back I wrote to the wretch, telling him I was on his track and was coming round to have the law on him as sure as my names Dorcas Gulliver. He wouldnt have got round menot that Id be the bird he was looking for, being sixtyone come Midsummer Dayand so I told him. Lord Peters gravity was somewhat upset by this diatribe against the highly respectable Mr. Murbles of Staple Inn, whose own version of Mrs. Gullivers communication had been decently expurgated. How shocked the old boy must have been, he murmured to Parker. Im for it next time I see him. Mrs. Gullivers voice moaned on and on. Such respectable girls, both of them, and Miss Evelyn married to that nice young man from Canada. Deary me, it will be a terrible upset for her. And theres poor John Ironsides, was to have married Miss Bertha, the poor lamb, this very Whitsuntide as ever is. A very steady, respectable mana clurk on the Southern, which he always used to say, joking like, Slow but safe, like the Southernthats me, Mrs. G. Tch, tchwhod a believed it? And its not as if she was one of the flighty sort. I give her a latchkey gladly, for shed sometimes be on late duty, but never any staying out after her time. Thats why it worried me so, her not coming back. Theres many nowadays as would wash ones hands and glad to be rid of them, knowing what they might be up to. No. When the time passed and she didnt come back, I said, Mark my words, I said, shes bin kidnapped, I said, by that Murbles. Had she been long with you, Mrs. Gulliver? asked Parker. Not above a fifteen month or so, she hadnt, but bless you, I dont have to know a young lady fifteen days to know if shes a good girl or not. You gets to know by the look of em almost, when youve ad my experience. Did she and her sister come to you together? They did. They come to me when they was lookin for work in London. And they could a fallen into a deal worse hands I can tell you, two young things from the country, and them that fresh and pretty looking. They were uncommonly lucky, Im sure, Mrs. Gulliver, said Lord Peter, and they must have found it a great comfort to be able to confide in you and get your good advice. Well, I think they did, said Mrs. Gulliver, not that young people nowadays seems to want much guidance from them as is older. Train up a child and away she go, as the Good Book says. But Miss Evelyn, thats now Mrs. Croppershed had this London idea put into her head, and up they comes with the idea of bein made ladies of, havin only been in service before, though whats the difference between serving in one of them teashops at the beck of all the nasty tagrag and bobtail and serving in a ladys home, I dont see, except that you works harder and dont get your meals so comfortable. Still, Miss Evelyn, she was always the goahead one of the two, and she did very well for herself, I will say, meetin Mr. Cropper as used to take his breakfast regular at the Corner House every morning and took a liking to the girl in the most honourable way. That was very fortunate. Have you any idea what gave them the notion of coming to town? Well, now, sir, its funny you should ask that, because it was a thing I never could understand. The lady as they used to be in service with, down in the country, she put it into Miss Evelyns head. Now, sir, wouldnt you think that with good service that ard to come by, shed have done all she could to keep them with her? But no! There was a bit of trouble one day, it seems, over Berthathis poor girl here, poor lambit do break ones eart to see her like that, dont it, sir?over Bertha avin broke an old teapota very valuable one by all accounts, and the lady told er she couldnt put up with avin her things broke no more. So she says Youll ave to go, she says, but, she says, Ill give you a very good character and youll soon get a good place. And I expect Evelynll want to go with you, she says, so Ill have to find someone else to do for me, she says. But, she says, why not go to London? Youll do better there and have a much more interesting life than what you would at home, she says. And the end of it was, she filled em up so with stories of how fine a place London was and how grand situations was to be had for the asking, that they was mad to go, and she give them a present of money and behaved very handsome, take it all round. Hm, said Wimsey, she seems to have been very particular about her teapot. Was Bertha a great crockerybreaker? Well, sir, she never broke nothing of mine. But this Miss Whittakerthat was the nameshe was one of these opinionated ladies, as will ave their own way in everythink. A fine temper she ad, or so poor Bertha said, though Miss Evelynher as is now Mrs. Croppershe always ad an idea as there was somethink at the back of it. Miss Evelyn was always the sharp one, as you might say. But there, sir, we all as our peculiarities, dont we? Its my own belief as the lady had somebody of her own choice as she wanted to put in the place of Berthathats this oneand Evelynas is now Mrs. Cropper, you understand meand she jest trampled up an excuse, as they say, to get rid of em. Very possibly, said Wimsey. I suppose, Inspector, Evelyn Gotobed Now Mrs. Cropper, put in Mrs. Gulliver with a sob. Mrs. Cropper, I should sayhas been communicated with? Oh, yes, my lord. We cabled her at once. Good. I wish youd let me know when you hear from her. We shall be in touch with Inspector Parker, my lord, of course. Of course. Well, Charles, Im going to leave you to it. Ive got a telegram to send. Or will you come with me? Thanks, no, said Parker. To be frank, I dont like your methods of driving. Being in the Force, I prefer to keep on the windy side of the law. Windy is the word for you, said Peter. Ill see you in Town, then. VII Ham and Brandy Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are. BrillatSavarin Well, said Wimsey, as Parker was ushered in that same evening by Bunter, have you got anything fresh? Yes, Ive got a new theory of the crime, which knocks yours into a cocked hat. Ive got evidence to support it, too. Which crime, by the way? Oh, the Epping Forest business. I dont believe the old Dawson person was murdered at all. Thats just an idea of yours. I see. And youre now going to tell me that Bertha Gotobed was got hold of by the White Slave people. How did you know? asked Parker, a little peevishly. Because Scotland Yard have two maggots which crop up whenever anything happens to a young woman. Either its White Slavery or Dope Denssometimes both. You are going to say its both. Well, I was, as a matter of fact. It so often is, you know. Weve traced the 5 note. Thats important, anyhow. Yes. It seems to me to be the clue to the whole thing. It is one of a series paid out to a Mrs. Forrest, living in South Audley Street. Ive been round to make some inquiries. Did you see the lady? No, she was out. She usually is, Im told. In fact, her habits seem to be expensive, irregular and mysterious. She has an elegantly furnished flat over a flowershop. A service flat? No. One of the quiet kind, with a lift you work yourself. She only turns up occasionally, mostly in the evenings, spends a night or two and departs. Food ordered in from Fortnum  Masons. Bills paid promptly by note or cheque. Cleaning done by an elderly female who comes in about eleven, by which time Mrs. Forrest has usually gone out. Doesnt anybody ever see her? Oh dear, yes! The people in the flat below and the girl at the flowershop were able to give me quite a good description of her. Tall, overdressed, musquash and those abbreviated sort of shoes with jewelled heels and hardly any uppersyou know the sort of thing. Heavily peroxided; strong aroma of orifan wafted out upon the passerby; powder too white for the fashion and mouth heavily obscured with sealingwax red; eyebrows painted black to startle, not deceive; fingernails a monument to Kraskathe pink variety. Id no idea you studied the Womans Page to such good purpose, Charles. Drives a Renault Fourseater, dark green with tapestry doings. Garages just round the corner. Ive seen the man, and he says the car was out on the night of the 27th. Went out at 1130. Returned about 8 the next morning. How much petrol had been used? We worked that out. Just about enough for a run to Epping and back. Whats more, the charwoman says that there had been supper for two in the flat that night, and three bottles of champagne drunk. Also, there is a ham in the flat. A Bradenham ham? How do you expect the charwoman to know that? But I think it probably is, as I find from Fortnum  Masons that a Bradenham ham was delivered to Mrs. Forrests address about a fortnight ago. That sounds conclusive. I take it you think Bertha Gotobed was inveigled there for some undesirable purpose by Mrs. Forrest, and had supper with her No; I should think there was a man. Yes, of course. Mrs. F. brings the parties together and leaves them to it. The poor girl is made thoroughly drunkand then something untoward happens. Yesshock, perhaps, or a shot of dope. And they bustle her off and get rid of her. Its quite possible. The postmortem may tell us something about it. Yes, Bunter, what is it? The telephone, my lord, for Mr. Parker. Excuse me, said Parker, I asked the people at the flowershop to ring me up here, if Mrs. Forrest came in. If shes there, would you like to come round with me? Very much. Parker returned from the telephone with an air of subdued triumph. Shes just gone up to her flat. Come along. Well take a taxinot that deathrattle of yours. Hurry up, I dont want to miss her. The door of the flat in South Audley Street was opened by Mrs. Forrest in person. Wimsey recognised her instantly from the description. On seeing Parkers card, she made no objection whatever to letting them in, and led the way into a pink and mauve sittingroom, obviously furnished by contract from a Regent Street establishment. Please sit down. Will you smoke? And your friend? My colleague, Mr. Templeton, said Parker, promptly. Mrs. Forrests rather hard eyes appeared to sum up in a practised manner the difference between Parkers sevenguinea fashionable lounge suiting, tailored in our own workrooms, fits like a madetomeasure suit, and his colleagues Savile Row outlines, but beyond a slight additional defensiveness of manner she showed no disturbance. Parker noted the glance. Shes summing us up professionally, was his mental comment, and shes not quite sure whether Wimseys an outraged brother or husband or what. Never mind. Let her wonder. We may get her rattled. We are engaged, Madam, he began, with formal severity, on an inquiry relative to certain events connected with the 26th of last month. I think you were in town at that time? Mrs. Forrest frowned slightly in the effort to recollect. Wimsey made a mental note that she was not as young as her bouffant applegreen frock made her appear. She was certainly nearing the thirties, and her eyes were mature and aware. Yes, I think I was. Yes, certainly. I was in town for several days about that time. How can I help you? It is a question of a certain banknote which has been traced to your possession, said Parker, a 5 note numbered xy58929. It was issued to you by Lloyds Bank in payment of a cheque on the 19th. Very likely. I cant say I remember the number, but I think I cashed a cheque about that time. I can tell in a moment by my chequebook. I dont think its necessary. But it would help us very much if you can recollect to whom you paid it. Oh, I see. Well, thats rather difficult. I paid my dressmakers about that timeno, that was by cheque. I paid cash to the garage, I know, and I think there was a 5 note in that. Then I dined at Verrys with a woman friendthat took the second 5 note, I remember, but there was a third. I drew out 25three fives and ten ones. Where did the third note go? Oh, of course, how stupid of me! I put it on a horse. Through a Commission Agent? No. I had nothing much to do one day, so I went down to Newmarket. I put the 5 on some creature called Brighteye or Attaboy or some name like that, at 50 to 1. Of course the wretched animal didnt win, they never do. A man in the train gave me the tip and wrote the name down for me. I handed it to the nearest bookie I sawa funny little greyhaired man with a hoarse voiceand that was the last I saw of it. Could you remember which day it was? I think it was Saturday. Yes, Im sure it was. Thank you very much, Mrs. Forrest. It will be a great help if we can trace those notes. One of them has turned up since inother circumstances. May I know what the circumstances are, or is it an official secret? Parker hesitated. He rather wished, now, that he had demanded pointblank at the start how Mrs. Forrests 5 note had come to be found on the dead body of the waitress at Epping. Taken by surprise, the woman might have got flustered. Now, he had let her entrench herself securely behind this horse story. Impossible to follow up the history of a banknote handed to an unknown bookie at a racemeeting. Before he could speak, Wimsey broke in for the first time, in a high, petulant voice which quite took his friend aback. Youre not getting anywhere with all this, he complained. I dont care a continental curse about the beastly note, and Im sure Sylvia doesnt. Who is Sylvia? demanded Mrs. Forrest with considerable amazement. Who is Sylvia? What is she? gabbled Wimsey, irrepressibly. Shakespeare always has the right word, hasnt he? But, God bless my soul, its no laughing matter. Its very serious and youve no business to laugh at it. Sylvia is very much upset, and the doctor is afraid it may have an effect on her heart. You may not know it, Mrs. Forrest, but Sylvia Lyndhurst is my cousin. And what she wants to know, and what we all want to knowdont interrupt me, Inspector, all this shillyshallying doesnt get us anywhereI want to know, Mrs. Forrest, who was it dining here with you on the night of April 26th. Who was it? Who was it? Can you tell me that? This time, Mrs. Forrest was visibly taken aback. Even under the thick coat of powder they could see the red flush up into her cheeks and ebb away, while her eyes took on an expression of something more than alarma kind of vicious fury, such as one may see in those of a cornered cat. On the 26th? she faltered. I cant I knew it! cried Wimsey. And that girl Evelyn was sure of it too. Who was it, Mrs. Forrest? Answer me that! Therethere was no one, said Mrs. Forrest, with a thick gasp. Oh, come, Mrs. Forrest, think again, said Parker, taking his cue promptly, you arent going to tell us that you accounted by yourself for three bottles of Veuve Clicquot and two peoples dinners. Not forgetting the ham, put in Wimsey, with fussy selfimportance, the Bradenham ham specially cooked and sent up by Fortnum  Mason. Now, Mrs. Forrest Wait a moment. Just a moment. Ill tell you everything. The womans hands clutched at the pink silk cushions, making little hot, tight creases. Iwould you mind getting me something to drink? In the diningroom, through thereon the sideboard. Wimsey got up quickly and disappeared into the next room. He took rather a long time, Parker thought. Mrs. Forrest was lying back in a collapsed attitude, but her breathing was more controlled, and she was, he thought, recovering her wits. Making up a story, he muttered savagely to himself. However, he could not, without brutality, press her at the moment. Lord Peter, behind the folding doors, was making a good deal of noise, chinking the glasses and fumbling about. However, before very long, he was back.  Scuse my taking such a time, he apologised, handing Mrs. Forrest a glass of brandy and soda. Couldnt find the syphon. Always was a bit woolgathering, yknow. All my friends say so. Starin me in the face all the time, what? And then I sloshed a lot of soda on the sideboard. Hand shakin. Nerves all to pieces and so on. Feelin better? Thats right. Put it down. Thats the stuff to pull you together. How about another little one, what? Oh, rot, it cant hurt you. Mind if I have one myself? Im feelin a bit flustered. Upsettin, delicate business and all that. Just another spot. Thats the idea. He trotted out again, glass in hand, while Parker fidgeted. The presence of amateur detectives was sometimes an embarrassment. Wimsey clattered in again, this time, with more common sense, bringing decanter, syphon and three glasses, bodily, on a tray. Now, now, said Wimsey, now were feeling better, do you think you can answer our question, Mrs. Forrest? May I know, first of all, what right you have to ask it? Parker shot an exasperated glance at his friend. This came of giving people time to think. Right? burst in Wimsey. Right? Of course, weve a right. The police have a right to ask questions when anythings the matter. Heres murder the matter! Right, indeed? Murder? A curious intent look came into her eyes. Parker could not place it, but Wimsey recognised it instantly. He had seen it last on the face of a great financier as he took up his pen to sign a contract. Wimsey had been called to witness the signature, and had refused. It was a contract that ruined thousands of people. Incidentally, the financier had been murdered soon after, and Wimsey had declined to investigate the matter, with a sentence from Dumas Let pass the justice of God. Im afraid, Mrs. Forrest was saying, that in that case I cant help you. I did have a friend dining with me on the 26th, but he has not, so far as I know, been murdered, nor has he murdered anybody. It was a man, then? said Parker. Mrs. Forrest bowed her head with a kind of mocking ruefulness. I live apart from my husband, she murmured. I am sorry, said Parker, to have to press for this gentlemans name and address. Isnt that asking rather much? Perhaps if you would give me further details? Well, you see, cut in Wimsey again, if we could just know for certain it wasnt Lyndhurst. My cousin is so frightfully upset, as I said, and that Evelyn girl is making trouble. In factof course one doesnt want it to go any furtherbut actually Sylvia lost her head very completely. She made a savage attack on poor old Lyndhurstwith a revolver, in fact, only fortunately she is a shocking bad shot. It went over his shoulder and broke a vasemost distressin thinga Famille Rose jar, worth thousandsand of course it was smashed to atoms. Sylvia is really hardly responsible when shes in a temper. And, we thought, as Lyndhurst was actually traced to this block of flatsif you could give us definite proof it wasnt him, it might calm her down and prevent murder being done, dont you know. Because, though they might call it Guilty but Insane, still, it would be awfully awkward havin ones cousin in Broadmoora first cousin, and really a very nice woman, when shes not irritated. Mrs. Forrest gradually softened into a faint smile. I think I understand the position, Mr. Templeton, she said, and if I give you a name, it will be in strict confidence, I presume? Of course, of course, said Wimsey. Dear me, Im sure its uncommonly kind of you. Youll swear you arent spies of my husbands? she said, quickly. I am trying to divorce him. How do I know this isnt a trap? Madam, said Wimsey, with intense gravity, I swear to you on my honour as a gentleman that I have not the slightest connection with your husband. I have never even heard of him before. Mrs. Forrest shook her head. I dont think, after all, she said, it would be much good my giving you the name. In any case, if you asked him whether hed been here, he would say no, wouldnt he? And if youve been sent by my husband, youve got all the evidence you want already. But I give you my solemn assurance, Mr. Templeton, that I know nothing about your friend, Mr. Lyndhurst Major Lyndhurst, put in Wimsey, plaintively. And if Mrs. Lyndhurst is not satisfied, and likes to come round and see me, I will do my best to satisfy her of the fact. Will that do? Thank you very much, said Wimsey. Im sure its as much as anyone could expect. Youll forgive my abruptness, wont you? Im ratherernervously constituted, and the whole business is exceedingly upsetting. Good afternoon. Come on, Inspector, its quite all rightyou see its quite all right. Im really very much obligeduncommonly so. Please dont trouble to see us out. He teetered nervously down the narrow hallway, in his imbecile and wellbred way, Parker following with a policemanlike stiffness. No sooner, however, had the flatdoor closed behind them than Wimsey seized his friend by the arm and bundled him helterskelter into the lift. I thought we should never get away, he panted. Now, quickhow do we get round to the back of these flats? What do you want with the back? demanded Parker, annoyed. And I wish you wouldnt stampede me like this. Ive no business to let you come with me on a job at all, and if I do, you might have the decency to keep quiet. Right you are, said Wimsey, cheerfully, just lets do this little bit and you can get all the virtuous indignation off your chest later on. Round here, I fancy, up this back alley. Step lively and mind the dustbin. One, two, three, fourhere we are! Just keep a lookout for the passing stranger, will you? Selecting a back window which he judged to belong to Mrs. Forrests flat, Wimsey promptly grasped a drainpipe and began to swarm up it with the agility of a catburglar. About fifteen feet from the ground he paused, reached up, appeared to detach something with a quick jerk, and then slid very gingerly to the ground again, holding his right hand at a cautious distance from his body, as though it were breakable. And indeed, to his amazement, Parker observed that Wimsey now held a longstemmed glass in his fingers, similar to those from which they had drunk in Mrs. Forrests sittingroom. What on earth? said Parker. Hush! Im Hawkshaw the detectivegathering fingerprints. Here we come awassailing and gathering prints in May. Thats why I took the glass back. I brought a different one in the second time. Sorry I had to do this athletic stunt, but the only cottonreel I could find hadnt much on it. When I changed the glass, I tiptoed into the bathroom and hung it out of the window. Hope she hasnt been in there since. Just brush my bags down, will you, old man? Gentlydont touch the glass. What the devil do you want fingerprints for? Youre a grateful sort of person. Why, for all you know, Mrs. Forrest is someone the Yard has been looking for for years. And anyway, you could compare the prints with those on the Bass bottle, if any. Besides, you never know when fingerprints maynt come in handy. Theyre excellent things to have about the house. Coast clear? Right. Hail a taxi, will you? I cant wave my hand with this glass in it. Look so silly, dont you know. I say! Well? I saw something else. The first time I went out for the drinks, I had a peep into her bedroom. Yes? What do you think I found in the washstand drawer? What? A hypodermic syringe! Really? Oh, yes, and an innocent little box of ampullae, with a doctors prescription headed The injection, Mrs. Forrest. One to be injected when the pain is very severe. What do you think of that? Tell you when weve got the results of that postmortem, said Parker, really impressed. You didnt bring the prescription, I suppose? No, and I didnt inform the lady who we were or what we were after or ask her permission to carry away the family crystal. But I made a note of the chemists address. Did you? ejaculated Parker. Occasionally, my lad, you have some glimmerings of sound detective sense. VIII Concerning Crime Society is at the mercy of a murderer who is remorseless, who takes no accomplices and who keeps his head. Edmund Pearson Murder at Smutty Nose Letter from Miss Alexandra Katherine Climpson to Lord Peter Wimsey Fair View, Nelson Avenue, Leahampton. 12 May, 1927. My dear Lord Peter, I have not yet been able to get all the information you ask for, as Miss Whittaker has been away for some weeks, inspecting chicken farms!! With a view to purchase, I mean, of course, and not in any sanitary capacity. I really think she means to set up farming with Miss Findlater, though what Miss Whittaker can see in that very gushing and really silly young woman I cannot think. However, Miss Findlater has evidently quite a pash (as we used to call it at school) for Miss Whittaker, and I am afraid none of us are above being flattered by such outspoken admiration. I must say, I think it rather unhealthyyou may remember Miss Clemence Danes very clever book on the subject?I have seen so much of that kind of thing in my rather WomanRidden existence! It has such a bad effect, as a rule, upon the weaker character of the twoBut I must not take up your time with my twaddle!! Miss Murgatroyd, who was quite a friend of old Miss Dawson, however, has been able to tell me a little about her past life. It seems that, until five years ago, Miss Dawson lived in Warwickshire with her cousin, a Miss Clara Whittaker, Mary Whittakers greataunt on the fathers side. This Miss Clara was evidently rather a character, as my dear father used to call it. In her day she was considered very advanced and not quite nice (!) because she refused several good offers, cut her hair short (!!) and set up in business for herself as a horsebreeder!!! Of course, nowadays, nobody would think anything of it, but then the old ladyor young lady as she was when she embarked on this revolutionary proceeding, was quite a pioneer. Agatha Dawson was a schoolfellow of hers, and deeply attached to her. And as a result of this friendship, Agathas sister, Harriet, married Clara Whittakers brother James! But Agatha did not care about marriage, any more than Clara, and the two ladies lived together in a big old house, with immense stables, in a village in WarwickshireCrofton, I think the name was. Clara Whittaker turned out to be a remarkably good business woman, and worked up a big connection among the hunting folk in those parts. Her hunters became quite famous, and from a capital of a few thousand pounds with which she started she made quite a fortune, and was a very rich woman before her death! Agatha Dawson never had anything to do with the horsey part of the business. She was the domestic partner, and looked after the house and the servants. When Clara Whittaker died, she left all her money to Agatha, passing over her own family, with whom she was not on very good termsowing to the narrowminded attitude they had taken up about her horsedealing!! Her nephew, Charles Whittaker, who was a clergyman, and the father of our Miss Whittaker, resented very much not getting the money, though, as he had kept up the feud in a very unchristian manner, he had really no right to complain, especially as Clara had built up her fortune entirely by her own exertions.


But, of course, he inherited the bad, oldfashioned idea that women ought not to be their own mistresses, or make money for themselves, or do what they liked with their own! He and his family were the only surviving Whittaker relations, and when he and his wife were killed in a motorcar accident, Miss Dawson asked Mary to leave her work as a nurse and make her home with her. So that, you see, Clara Whittakers money was destined to come back to James Whittakers daughter in the end!! Miss Dawson made it quite clear that this was her intention, provided Mary would come and cheer the declining days of a lonely old lady! Mary accepted, and as her auntor, to speak more exactly, her greataunthad given up the big old Warwickshire house after Claras death, they lived in London for a short time and then moved to Leahampton. As you know, poor old Miss Dawson was then already suffering from the terrible disease of which she died, so that Mary did not have to wait very long for Clara Whittakers money!! I hope this information will be of some use to you. Miss Murgatroyd did not, of course, know anything about the rest of the family, but she always understood that there were no other surviving relatives, either on the Whittaker or the Dawson side. When Miss Whittaker returns, I hope to see more of her. I enclose my account for expenses up to date. I do trust you will not consider it extravagant. How are your moneylenders progressing? I was sorry not to see more of those poor women whose cases I investigatedtheir stories were so pathetic! I am, Very sincerely yours, Alexandra K. Climpson. P.S.I forgot to say that Miss Whittaker has a little motorcar. I do not, of course, know anything about these matters, but Mrs. Budges maid tells me that Miss Whittakers maid says it is an Austen 7 (is this right?). It is grey, and the number is XX9917. Mr. Parker was announced, just as Lord Peter finished reading this document, and sank rather wearily in a corner of the chesterfield. What luck? inquired his lordship, tossing the letter over to him. Do you know, Im beginning to think you were right about the Bertha Gotobed business, and Im rather relieved. I dont believe one word of Mrs. Forrests story, for reasons of my own, and Im now hoping that the wiping out of Bertha was a pure coincidence and nothing to do with my advertisement. Are you? said Parker, bitterly, helping himself to whisky and soda. Well, I hope youll be cheered to learn that the analysis of the body has been made, and that there is not the slightest sign of foul play. There is no trace of violence or of poisoning. There was a heart weakness of fairly long standing, and the verdict is syncope after a heavy meal. That doesnt worry me, said Wimsey. We suggested shock, you know. Amiable gentleman met at flat of friendly lady suddenly turns funny after dinner and makes undesirable overtures. Virtuous young woman is horribly shocked. Weak heart gives way. Collapse. Exit. Agitation of amiable gentleman and friendly lady, left with corpse on their hands. Happy thought motorcar; Epping Forest; exeunt omnes, singing and washing their hands. Wheres the difficulty? Proving it is the difficulty, thats all. By the way, there were no fingermarks on the bottleonly smears. Gloves, I suppose. Which looks like camouflage, anyhow. An ordinary picnicking couple wouldnt put on gloves to handle a bottle of Bass. I know. But we cant arrest all the people who wear gloves. I weep for you, the Walrus said, I deeply sympathise. I see the difficulty, but its early days yet. How about those injections? Perfectly OK. Weve interrogated the chemist and interviewed the doctor. Mrs. Forrest suffers from violent neuralgic pains, and the injections were duly prescribed. Nothing wrong there, and no history of doping or anything. The prescription is a very mild one, and couldnt possibly be fatal to anybody. Besides, havent I told you that there was no trace of morphia or any other kind of poison in the body? Oh, well! said Wimsey. He sat for a few minutes looking thoughtfully at the fire. I see the case has more or less died out of the papers, he resumed, suddenly. Yes. The analysis has been sent to them, and there will be a paragraph tomorrow and a verdict of natural death, and that will be the end of it. Good. The less fuss there is about it the better. Has anything been heard of the sister in Canada? Oh, I forgot. Yes. We had a cable three days ago. Shes coming over. Is she? By Jove! What boat? The Star of Quebecdue in next Friday. Hm! Well have to get hold of her. Are you meeting the boat? Good heavens, no! Why should I? I think someone ought to. Im reassuredbut not altogether happy. I think Ill go myself, if you dont mind. I want to get that Dawson storyand this time I want to make sure the young woman doesnt have a heart attack before I interview her. I really think youre exaggerating, Peter. Better safe than sorry, said his lordship. Have another peg, wont you? Meanwhile, what do you think of Miss Climpsons latest? I dont see much in it. No? Its a bit confusing, but it all seems quite straightforward. Yes. The only thing we know now is that Mary Whittakers father was annoyed about Miss Dawsons getting his aunts money and thought it ought to have come to him. Well, you dont suspect him of having murdered Miss Dawson, do you? He died before her, and the daughters got the money, anyhow. Yes, I know. But suppose Miss Dawson had changed her mind? She might have quarrelled with Mary Whittaker and wanted to leave her money elsewhere. Oh, I seeand been put out of the way before she could make a will? Isnt it possible? Yes, certainly. Except that all the evidence we have goes to show that willmaking was about the last job anybody could persuade her to do. Truewhile she was on good terms with Mary. But how about that morning Nurse Philliter mentioned, when she said people were trying to kill her before her time? Mary may really have been impatient with her for being such an unconscionable time adying. If Miss Dawson became aware of that, she would certainly have resented it and may very well have expressed an intention of making her will in someone elses favouras a kind of insurance against premature decease! Then why didnt she send for her solicitor? She may have tried to. But after all, she was bedridden and helpless. Mary may have prevented the message from being sent. That sounds quite plausible. Doesnt it? Thats why I want Evelyn Croppers evidence. Im perfectly certain those girls were packed off because they had heard more than they should. Or why such enthusiasm over sending them to London? Yes. I thought that part of Mrs. Gullivers story was a bit odd. I say, how about the other nurse? Nurse Forbes? Thats a good idea. I was forgetting her. Think you can trace her? Of course, if you really think it important. I do. I think its damned important. Look here, Charles, you dont seem very enthusiastic about this case. Well, you know, Im not so certain it is a case at all. What makes you so fearfully keen about it? You seem dead set on making it a murder, with practically nothing to go upon. Why? Lord Peter got up and paced the room. The light from the solitary readinglamp threw his lean shadow, diffused and monstrously elongated, up to the ceiling. He walked over to a bookshelf, and the shadow shrank, blackened, settled down. He stretched his hand, and the hands shadow flew with it, hovering over the gilded titles of the books and blotting them out one by one. Why? repeated Wimsey. Because I believe this is the case I have always been looking for. The case of cases. The murder without discernible means, or motive or clue. The norm. All these,he swept his extended hand across the bookshelf, and the shadow outlined a vaster and more menacing gestureall these books on this side of the room are books about crimes. But they only deal with the abnormal crimes. What do you mean by abnormal crimes? The failures. The crimes that have been found out. What proportion do you suppose they bear to the successful crimesthe ones we hear nothing about? In this country, said Parker, rather stiffly, we manage to trace and convict the majority of criminals My good man, I know that where a crime is known to have been committed, you people manage to catch the perpetrator in at least sixty percent of the cases. But the moment a crime is even suspected, it falls, ipso facto, into the category of failures. After that, the thing is merely a question of greater or less efficiency on the part of the police. But how about the crimes which are never even suspected? Parker shrugged his shoulders. How can anybody answer that? Wellone may guess. Read any newspaper today. Read the News of the World. Or, now that the Press has been muzzled, read the divorce court lists. Wouldnt they give you the idea that marriage is a failure? Isnt the sillier sort of journalism packed with articles to the same effect? And yet, looking round among the marriages you know of personally, arent the majority of them a success, in a humdrum, undemonstrative sort of way? Only you dont hear of them. People dont bother to come into court and explain that they dodder along very comfortably on the whole, thank you. Similarly, if you read all the books on this shelf, youd come to the conclusion that murder was a failure. But bless you, its always the failures that make the noise. Successful murderers dont write to the papers about it. They dont even join in imbecile symposia to tell an inquisitive world What Murder means to me, or How I became a Successful Poisoner. Happy murderers, like happy wives, keep quiet tongues. And they probably bear just about the same proportion to the failures as the divorced couples do to the happily mated. Arent you putting it rather high? I dont know. Nor does anybody. Thats the devil of it. But you ask any doctor, when youve got him in an unbuttoned, welllubricated frame of mind, if he hasnt often had grisly suspicions which he could not and dared not take steps to verify. You see by our friend Carr what happens when one doctor is a trifle more courageous than the rest. Well, he couldnt prove anything. I know. But that doesnt mean theres nothing to be proved. Look at the scores and scores of murders that have gone unproved and unsuspected till the fool of a murderer went too far and did something silly which blew up the whole show. Palmer, for instance. His wife and brother and motherinlaw and various illegitimate children, all peacefully put awaytill he made the mistake of polishing Cook off in that spectacular manner. Look at George Joseph Smith. Nobodyd have thought of bothering any more about those first two wives he drowned. It was only when he did it the third time that he aroused suspicion. Armstrong, too, is supposed to have got away with many more crimes than he was tried forit was being clumsy over Martin and the chocolates that stirred up the hornets nest in the end. Burke and Hare were convicted of murdering an old woman, and then brightly confessed that theyd put away sixteen people in two months and no one a penny the wiser. But they were caught. Because they were fools. If you murder someone in a brutal, messy way, or poison someone who has previously enjoyed rollicking health, or choose the very day after a wills been made in your favour to extinguish the testator, or go on killing everyone you meet till people begin to think youre first cousin to a upas tree, naturally youre found out in the end. But choose somebody old and ill, in circumstances where the benefit to yourself isnt too apparent, and use a sensible method that looks like natural death or accident, and dont repeat your effects too often, and youre safe. I swear all the heartdiseases and gastric enteritis and influenzas that get certified are not natures unaided work. Murders so easy, Charles, so damned easyeven without special training. Parker looked troubled. Theres something in what you say. Ive heard some funny tales myself. We all do, I suppose. But Miss Dawson Miss Dawson fascinates me, Charles. Such a beautiful subject. So old and ill. So likely to die soon. Bound to die before long. No near relations to make inquiries. No connections or old friends in the neighbourhood. And so rich. Upon my soul, Charles, I lie in bed licking my lips over ways and means of murdering Miss Dawson. Well, anyhow, till you can think of one that defies analysis and doesnt seem to need a motive, you havent found the right one, said Parker, practically, rather revolted by this ghoulish conversation. I admit that, replied Lord Peter, but that only shows that as yet Im merely a thirdrate murderer. Wait till Ive perfected my method and then Ill show youperhaps. Some wise old buffer has said that each of us holds the life of one other person between his handsbut only one, Charles, only one. IX The Will Our wills are ours to make them thine. Tennyson In Memoriam Hullo! hulloullo! oh, operator, shall I call thee bird or but a wandering voice?  Not at all, I had no intention of being rude, my child, that was a quotation from the poetry of Mr. Wordsworth  well, ring him again  thank you, is that Dr. Carr?  Lord Peter Wimsey speaking  oh, yes  yes  aha!  not a bit of it  We are about to vindicate you and lead you home, decorated with triumphal wreaths of cinnamon and sennapods  No, really  weve come to the conclusion that the thing is serious  Yes  I want Nurse Forbes address  Right, Ill hold on  Luton?  oh, Tooting, yes, Ive got that  Certainly, Ive no doubt shes a tartar, but Im the Grand Panjandrum with the little round button atop  Thanks awfully  cheerfrightfullyho!oh! I say!hullo!I say, she doesnt do Maternity work, does she? Maternity work?M for MotherinlawMaternity?NoYoure sure?  It would be simply awful if she did and came along  I couldnt possibly produce a baby for her  As long as youre quite sure  Rightrightyesnot for the worldnothing to do with you at all. Goodbye, old thing, goodbye. Lord Peter hung up, whistling cheerfully, and called for Bunter. My lord? What is the proper suit to put on, Bunter, when one is an expectant father? I regret, my lord, to have seen no recent fashions in paternity wear. I should say, my lord, whichever suit your lordship fancies will induce a calm and cheerful frame of mind in the lady. Unfortunately I dont know the lady. She is, in fact, only the figment of an overteeming brain. But I think the garments should express bright hope, selfcongratulation, and a tinge of tender anxiety. A newly married situation, my lord, I take it. Then I would suggest the lounge suit in pale greythe willowpussy cloth, my lordwith a dull amethyst tie and socks and a soft hat. I would not recommend a bowler, my lord. The anxiety expressed in a bowler hat would be rather of the financial kind. No doubt you are right, Bunter. And I will wear those gloves that got so unfortunately soiled yesterday at Charing Cross. I am too agitated to worry about a clean pair. Very good, my lord. No stick, perhaps. Subject to your lordships better judgment, I should suggest that a stick may be suitably handled to express emotion. You are always right, Bunter. Call me a taxi, and tell the man to drive to Tooting. Nurse Forbes regretted very much. She would have liked to oblige Mr. SimmsGaythorpe, but she never undertook maternity work. She wondered who could have misled Mr. SimmsGaythorpe by giving him her name. Well, yknow, I cant say I was misled, said Mr. SimmsGaythorpe, dropping his walkingstick and retrieving it with an ingenuous laugh. Miss Murgatroydyou know Miss Murgatroyd of Leahampton, I thinkyesshethat is, I heard about you through her (this was a fact), and she said what a charming personexcuse my repeatin these personal remarks, wont you?what a charmin person you were and all that, and how nice it would be if we could persuade you to come, dont you see. But she said she was afraid perhaps you didnt do maternity work. Still, yknow, I thought it was worth tryin, what? Bein so anxious, what?about my wife, that is, you see. So necessary to have someone young and cheery at theseercritical times, dont you know. Maternity nurses often such ancient and ponderous sort of peopleif you dont mind my sayin so. My wifes highly nervousnaturallyfirst effort and all thatdoesnt like middleaged people tramplin roundyou see the idea? Nurse Forbes, who was a bony woman of about forty, saw the point perfectly, and was very sorry she really could not see her way to undertaking the work. It was very kind of Miss Murgatroyd, she said. Do you know her well? Such a delightful woman, is she not? The expectant father agreed. Miss Murgatroyd was so very much impressed by your sympathetic waydont you knowof nursin that poor old lady, Miss Dawson, yknow. Distant connection of my own, as a matter of facter, yessomewhere about fifteenth cousin twelve times removed. So nervous, wasnt she? A little bit eccentric, like the rest of the family, but a charming old lady, dont you think? I became very much attached to her, said Nurse Forbes. When she was in full possession of her faculties, she was a most pleasant and thoughtful patient. Of course, she was in great pain, and we had to keep her under morphia a great part of the time. Ah, yes! poor old soul! I sometimes think, Nurse, its a great pity we arent allowed just to help people off, yknow, when theyre so far gone. After all, theyre practically dead already, as you might say. Whats the point of keepin them sufferin on like that? Nurse Forbes looked rather sharply at him. Im afraid that wouldnt do, she said, though one understands the lay persons point of view, of course. Dr. Carr was not of your opinion, she added, a little acidly. I think all that fuss was simply shockin, said the gentleman warmly. Poor old soul! I said to my wife at the time, why couldnt they let the poor old thing rest. Fancy cuttin her about, when obviously shed just mercifully gone off in a natural way! My wife quite agreed with me. She was quite upset about it, dont you know. It was very distressing to everybody concerned, said Nurse Forbes, and of course, it put me in a very awkward position. I ought not to talk about it, but as you are one of the family, you will quite understand. Just so. Did it ever occur to you, NurseMr. SimmsGaythorpe leaned forward, crushing his soft hat between his hands in a nervous mannerthat there might be something behind all that? Nurse Forbes primmed up her lips. You know, said Mr. SimmsGaythorpe, there have been cases of doctors tryin to get rich old ladies to make wills in their favour. You dont thinkeh? Nurse Forbes intimated that it was not her business to think things. No, of course not, certainly not. But as man to manI mean, between you and me, what?wasnt there a littleerfriction, perhaps, about sending for the solicitorjohnnie, dont you know? Of course, my Cousin MaryI call her cousin, so to speak, but its no relation at all, reallyof course, I mean, shes an awfully nice girl and all that sort of thing, but Id got a sort of idea perhaps she wasnt altogether keen on having the willmaking wallah sent for, what? Oh, Mr. SimmsGaythorpe, Im sure youre quite wrong there. Miss Whittaker was most anxious that her aunt should have every facility in that way. In factI dont think Im betraying any confidence in telling you thisshe said to me, If at any time Miss Dawson should express a wish to see a lawyer, be sure you send for him at once. And so, of course, I did. You did? And didnt he come, then? Certainly he came. There was no difficulty about it at all. There! That just shows, doesnt it? how wrong some of these gossipy females can be! Excuse me, but yknow, Id got absolutely the wrong impression about the thing. Im quite sure Mrs. Peasgood said that no lawyer had been sent for. I dont know what Mrs. Peasgood could have known about it, said Nurse Forbes with a sniff, her permission was not asked in the matter. Certainly notbut you know how these ideas get about. But, I sayif there was a will, why wasnt it produced? I didnt say that, Mr. SimmsGaythorpe. There was no will. The lawyer came to draw up a power of attorney, so that Miss Whittaker could sign cheques and so on for her aunt. That was very necessary, you know, on account of the old ladys failing powers. YesI suppose she was pretty woolly towards the end. Well, she was quite sensible when I took over from Nurse Philliter in September, except, of course, for that fancy she had about poisoning. She really was afraid of that? She said once or twice, Im not going to die to please anybody, Nurse. She had great confidence in me. She got on better with me than with Miss Whittaker, to tell you the truth, Mr. SimmsGaythorpe. But during October, her mind began to give way altogether, and she rambled a lot. She used to wake up sometimes all in a fright and say, Have they passed it yet, Nurse?just like that. Id say, No, they havent got that far yet, and that would quiet her. Thinking of her hunting days, I expect she was. They often go back like that, you know, when theyre being kept under drugs. Dreaming, like, they are, half the time. Then in the last month or so, I suppose she could hardly have made a will, even if she had wanted to. No, I dont think she could have managed it then. But earlier on, when the lawyer was there, she could have done so if she had liked? Certainly she could. But she didnt? Oh no. I was there with her all the time, at her particular request. I see. Just you and Miss Whittaker. Not even Miss Whittaker most of the time. I see what you mean, Mr. SimmsGaythorpe, but indeed you should clear your mind of any unkind suspicions of Miss Whittaker. The lawyer and Miss Dawson and myself were alone together for nearly an hour, while the clerk drew up the necessary papers in the next room. It was all done then, you see, because we thought that a second visit would be too much for Miss Dawson. Miss Whittaker only came in quite at the end. If Miss Dawson had wished to make a will, she had ample opportunity to do so. Well, Im glad to hear that, said Mr. SimmsGaythorpe, rising to go. These little doubts are so apt to make unpleasantness in families, dont you know. Well, I must be toddlin now. Im frightfully sorry you cant come to us, Nursemy wife will be so disappointed. I must try to find somebody else equally charmin if possible. Goodbye. Lord Peter removed his hat in the taxi and scratched his head thoughtfully. Another good theory gone wrong, he murmured. Well, theres another string to the jolly old bow yet. Cropper first and then Croftonthats the line to take, I fancy. X The Will Again The will! the will! We will hear Caesars will! Julius Caesar Oh, Miss Evelyn, my dear, oh, poor dear! The tall girl in black started, and looked round. Why, Mrs. Gulliverhow very, very kind of you to come and meet me! And glad I am to have the chance, my dear, all owing to these kind gentlemen, cried the landlady, flinging her arms round the girl and clinging to her to the great annoyance of the other passengers pouring off the gangway. The elder of the two gentlemen referred to gently put his hand on her arm, and drew them out of the stream of traffic. Poor lamb! mourned Mrs. Gulliver, coming all this way by your lonesome, and poor dear Miss Bertha in her grave and such terrible things said, and her such a good girl always. Its poor mother Im thinking about, said the girl. I couldnt rest. I said to my husband, I must go, I said, and he said, My honey, if I could come with you I would, but I cant leave the farm, but if you feel you ought to go, you shall, he said. Dear Mr. Cropperhe was always that good and kind, said Mrs. Gulliver, but here I am, forgittin all about the good gentlemen as brought me all this way to see you. This is Lord Peter Wimsey, and this is Mr. Murbles, as put in that unfortnit advertisement, as I truly believes was the beginnin of it all. Ow I wish Id never showed it to your poor sister, not but wot I believe the gentleman acted with the best intentions, avin now seen im, which at first I thought e was a wrong un. Pleased to meet you, said Mrs. Cropper, turning with the ready address derived from service in a big restaurant. Just before I sailed I got a letter from poor Bertha enclosing your ad. I couldnt make anything of it, but Id be glad to know anything which can clear up this shocking business. What have they said it ismurder? There was a verdict of natural death at the inquiry, said Mr. Murbles, but we feel that the case presents some inconsistencies, and shall be exceedingly grateful for your cooperation in looking into the matter, and also in connection with another matter which may or may not have some bearing upon it. Righto, said Mrs. Cropper. Im sure youre proper gentlemen, if Mrs. Gulliver answers for you, for Ive never known her mistaken in a person yet, have I, Mrs. G? Ill tell you anything I know, which isnt much, for its all a horrible mystery to me. Only I dont want you to delay me, for Ive got to go straight on down to Mother. Shell be in a dreadful way, so fond as she was of Bertha, and shes all alone except for the young girl that looks after her, and thats not much comfort when youve lost your daughter so sudden. We shall not detain you a moment, Mrs. Cropper, said Mr. Murbles. We propose, if you will allow us, to accompany you to London, and to ask you a few questions on the way, and thenagain with your permissionwe should like to see you safely home to Mrs. Gotobeds house, wherever that may be. Christchurch, near Bournemouth, said Lord Peter. Ill run you down straight away, if you like. It will save time. I say, you know all about it, dont you? exclaimed Mrs. Cropper with some admiration. Well, hadnt we better get a move on, or well miss this train? Quite right, said Mr. Murbles. Allow me to offer you my arm. Mrs. Cropper approving of this arrangement, the party made its way to the station, after the usual disembarkation formalities. As they passed the barrier on to the platform Mrs. Cropper gave a little exclamation and leaned forward as though something had caught her eye. What is it, Mrs. Cropper? said Lord Peters voice in her ear. Did you think you recognised somebody? Youre a noticing one, arent you? said Mrs. Cropper. Make a good waiteryou wouldnot meaning any offence, sir, thats a real compliment from one who knows. Yes, I did think I saw someone, but it couldnt be, because the minute she caught my eye she went away. Who did you think it was? Why, I thought it looked like Miss Whittaker, as Bertha and me used to work for. Where was she? Just down by that pillar there, a tall dark lady in a crimson hat and grey fur. But shes gone now. Excuse me. Lord Peter unhitched Mrs. Gulliver from his arm, hitched her smartly on to the unoccupied arm of Mr. Murbles, and plunged into the crowd. Mr. Murbles, quite unperturbed by this eccentric behaviour, shepherded the two women into an empty firstclass carriage which, Mrs. Cropper noted, bore a large label, Reserved for Lord Peter Wimsey and party. Mrs. Cropper made some protesting observation about her ticket, but Mr. Murbles merely replied that everything was provided for, and that privacy could be more conveniently secured in this way. Your friends going to be left behind, said Mrs. Cropper as the train moved out. That would be very unlike him, replied Mr. Murbles, calmly unfolding a couple of rugs and exchanging his oldfashioned tophat for a curious kind of travelling cap with flaps to it. Mrs. Cropper, in the midst of her anxiety, could not help wondering where in the world he had contrived to purchase this Victorian relic. As a matter of fact, Mr. Murbles caps were specially made to his own design by an exceedingly expensive West End hatter, who held Mr. Murbles in deep respect as a real gentleman of the old school. Nothing, however, was seen of Lord Peter for something like a quarter of an hour, when he suddenly put his head in with an amiable smile and said One redhaired woman in a crimson hat; three dark women in black hats; several nondescript women in those pullon sort of dustcoloured hats; old women with grey hair, various; sixteen flappers without hatshats on rack, I mean, but none of em crimson; two obvious brides in blue hats; innumerable fair women in hats of all colours; one ashblonde dressed as a nurse, none of em our friend as far as I know. Thought Id best just toddle along the train to make sure. Theres just one dark sort of female whose hat I cant see because its tucked down beside her. Wonder if Mrs. Cropper would mind doin a little stagger down the corridor to take a squint at her. Mrs. Cropper, with some surprise, consented to do so. Right you are. Splain later. About four carriages along. Now, look here, Mrs. Cropper, if it should be anybody you know, Id rather on the whole she didnt spot you watching her. I want you to walk along behind me, just glancin into the compartments but keepin your collar turned up. When we come to the party I have in mind, Ill make a screen for you, what? These manoeuvres were successfully accomplished, Lord Peter lighting a cigarette opposite the suspected compartment, while Mrs. Cropper viewed the hatless lady under cover of his raised elbows. But the result was disappointing. Mrs. Cropper had never seen the lady before, and a further promenade from end to end of the train produced no better results. We must leave it to Bunter, then, said his lordship, cheerfully, as they returned to their seats. I put him on the trail as soon as you gave me the good word. Now, Mrs. Cropper, we really get down to business. First of all, we should be glad of any suggestions you may have to make about your sisters death. We dont want to distress you, but we have got an idea that there might, just possibly, be something behind it. Theres just one thing, siryour lordship, I suppose I should say. Bertha was a real good girlI can answer for that absolutely. There wouldnt have been any carryingson with her young mannothing of that. I know people have been saying all sorts of things, and perhaps, with lots of girls as they are, it isnt to be wondered at. But, believe me, Bertha wouldnt go for to do anything that wasnt right. Perhaps youd like to see this last letter she wrote me. Im sure nothing could be nicer and properer from a girl just looking forward to a happy marriage. Now, a girl as wrote like that wouldnt be going larking about, sir, would she? I couldnt rest, thinking they was saying that about her. Lord Peter took the letter, glanced through it, and handed it reverently to Mr. Murbles. Were not thinking that at all, Mrs. Cropper, though of course were very glad to have your point of view, dont you see. Now, do you think it possible your sister might have beenwhat shall I say?got hold of by some woman with a plausible story and all that, andwellpushed into some position which shocked her very much? Was she cautious and up to the tricks of London people and all that? And he outlined Parkers theory of the engaging Mrs. Forrest and the supposed dinner in the flat. Well, my lord, I wouldnt say Bertha was a very quick girlnot as quick as me, you know. Shed always be ready to believe what she was told and give people credit for the best. Took more after her father, like. Im mothers girl, they always said, and I dont trust anybody further than I can see them. But Id warned her very careful against taking up with women as talks to a girl in the street, and she did ought to have been on her guard. Of course, said Peter, it may have been somebody shed got to know quite wellsay, at the restaurant, and she thought she was a nice lady and thered be no harm in going to see her. Or the lady might have suggested taking her into good service. One never knows. I think shed have mentioned it in her letters if shed talked to the lady much, my lord. Its wonderful what a lot of things shed find to tell me about the customers.


And I dont think shed be for going into service again. We got real fed up with service, down in Leahampton. Ah, yes. Now that brings us to quite a different pointthe thing we wanted to ask you or your sister about before this sad accident took place. You were in service with this Miss Whittaker whom you mentioned just now. I wonder if youd mind telling us just exactly why you left. It was a good place, I suppose? Yes, my lord, quite a good place as places go, though of course a girl doesnt get her freedom the way she does in a restaurant. And naturally there was a good deal of waiting on the old lady. Not as we minded that, for she was a very kind, good lady, and generous too. But when she became so ill, I suppose Miss Whittaker managed everything, what? Yes, my lord; but it wasnt a hard placelots of the girls envied us. Only Miss Whittaker was very particular. Especially about the china, what? Ah, they told you about that, then? I told em, dearie, put in Mrs. Gulliver, I told em all about how you come to leave your place and go to London. And it struck us, put in Mr. Murbles, that it was, shall we say, somewhat rash of Miss Whittaker to dismiss so competent and, if I may put it so, so wellspoken and personable a pair of maids on so trivial a pretext. Youre right there, sir. BerthaI told you she was the trusting oneshe was quite ready to believe as she done wrong, and thought how good it was of Miss Whittaker to forgive her breaking the china, and take so much interest in sending us to London, but I always thought there was something more than met the eye. Didnt I, Mrs. Gulliver? That you did, dear; something more than meets the eye, thats what you says to me, and what I agrees with. And did you, in your own mind, pursued Mr. Murbles, connect this sudden dismissal with anything which had taken place? Well, I did then, replied Mrs. Cropper, with some spirit. I said to Berthabut she would hear nothing of it, taking after her father as I tell youI said, Mark my words, I said, Miss Whittaker dont care to have us in the house after the row she had with the old lady.  And what row was that? inquired Mr. Murbles. Well, I dont know as I ought rightly to tell you about it, seeing its all over now and we promised to say nothing about it. That, of course, said Mr. Murbles, checking Lord Peter, who was about to burst in impetuously, depends upon your own conscience. But, if it will be of any help to you in making up your mind, I think I may say, in the strictest confidence, that this information may be of the utmost importance to usin a roundabout way which I wont trouble you within investigating a very singular set of circumstances which have been brought to our notice. And it is just barely possibleagain in a very roundabout waythat it may assist us in throwing some light on the melancholy tragedy of your sisters decease. Further than that I cannot go at the moment. Well, now, said Mrs. Cropper, if thats sothough, mind you, I dont see what connection there could bebut if you think thats so, I reckon Id better come across with it, as my husband would say. After all, I only promised I wouldnt mention about it to the people in Leahampton, as might have made mischief out of itand a gossipy lot they is, and no mistake. Weve nothing to do with the Leahampton crowd, said his lordship, and it wont be passed along unless it turns out to be necessary. Righto. Well, Ill tell you. One morning early in September Miss Whittaker comes along to Bertha and I, and says, I want you girls to be just handy on the landing outside Miss Dawsons bedroom, she says, because I may want you to come in and witness her signature to a document. We shall want two witnesses, she says, and youll have to see her sign; but I dont want to flurry her with a lot of people in the room, so when I give you the tip, I want you to come just inside the door without making a noise, so that you can see her write her name, and then Ill bring it straight across to you and you can write your names where I show you. Its quite easy, she says, nothing to do but just put your names opposite where you see the word Witnesses. Bertha was always a bit the timid sortafraid of documents and that sort of thing, and she tried to get out of it. Couldnt Nurse sign instead of me? she says. That was Nurse Philliter, you know, the redhaired one as was the doctors fiance. She was a very nice woman, and we liked her quite a lot. Nurse has gone out for her walk, says Miss Whittaker, rather sharp, I want you and Evelyn to do it, meaning me, of course. Well, we said we didnt mind, and Miss Whittaker goes upstairs to Miss Dawson with a whole heap of papers, and Bertha and I followed and waited on the landing, like she said. One moment, said Mr. Murbles, did Miss Dawson often have documents to sign? Yes, sir, I believe so, quite frequently, but they was usually witnessed by Miss Whittaker or the nurse. There was some leases and things of that sort, or so I heard. Miss Dawson had a little houseproperty. And then thered be the cheques for the housekeeping, and some papers as used to come from the Bank and be put away in the safe. Share coupons and so on, I suppose, said Mr. Murbles. Very likely, sir, I dont know much about those business matters. I did have to witness a signature once, I remember, a long time back, but that was different. The paper was brought down to me with the signature ready wrote. There wasnt any of this todo about it. The old lady was capable of dealing with her own affairs, I understand? Up till then, sir. Afterwards, as I understood, she made it all over to Miss Whittakerthat was just before she got feeblelike, and was kept under drugs. Miss Whittaker signed the cheques then. The power of attorney, said Mr. Murbles, with a nod. Well now, did you sign this mysterious paper? No, sir, Ill tell you how that was. When me and Bertha had been waiting a little time, Miss Whittaker comes to the door and makes us a sign to come in quiet. So we comes and stands just inside the door. There was a screen by the head of the bed, so we couldnt see Miss Dawson nor she us, but we could see her reflection quite well in a big lookingglass she had on the left side of the bed. Mr. Murbles exchanged a significant glance with Lord Peter. Now be sure you tell us every detail, said Wimsey, no matter how small and silly it may sound. I believe this is goin to be very excitin. Yes, my lord. Well, there wasnt much else, except that just inside the door, on the lefthand side as you went in, there was a little table, where Nurse mostly used to set down trays and things that had to go down, and it was cleared, and a piece of blottingpaper on it and an inkstand and pen, all ready for us to sign with. Could Miss Dawson see that? asked Mr. Murbles. No, sir, because of the screen. But it was inside the room. Yes, sir. We want to be quite clear about this. Do you think you could drawquite roughlya little plan of the room, showing where the bed was and the screen and the mirror, and so on? Im not much of a hand at drawing, said Mrs. Cropper dubiously, but Ill try. Mr. Murbles produced a notebook and fountain pen, and after a few false starts, the following rough sketch was produced. Thank you, that is very clear indeed. You notice, Lord Peter, the careful arrangements to have the document signed in presence of the witnesses, and witnessed by them in the presence of Miss Dawson and of each other. I neednt tell you for what kind of document that arrangement is indispensable. Was that it, sir? We couldnt understand why it was all arranged like that. It might have happened, explained Mr. Murbles, that in case of some dispute about this document, you and your sister would have had to come into court and give evidence about it. And if so, you would have been asked whether you actually saw Miss Dawson write her signature, and whether you and your sister and Miss Dawson were all in the same room together when you signed your names as witnesses. And if that had happened, you could have said yes, couldnt you, and sworn to it? Oh, yes. And yet, actually, Miss Dawson would have known nothing about your being there. No, sir. That was it, you see. I see now, sir, but at the time Bertha and me couldnt make nothing of it. But the document, you say, was never signed. No, sir. At any rate, we never witnessed anything. We saw Miss Dawson write her nameat least, I suppose it was her nameto one or two papers, and then Miss Whittaker puts another lot in front of her and says, Heres another little lot, auntie, some more of those incometax forms. So the old lady says, What are they exactly, dear, let me see? So Miss Whittaker says, Oh, only the usual things. And Miss Dawson says, Dear, dear, what a lot of them. How complicated they do make these things to be sure. And we could see that Miss Whittaker was giving her several papers, all laid on top of one another, with just the places for the signatures left showing. So Miss Dawson signs the top one, and then lifts up the paper and looks underneath at the next one, and Miss Whittaker says, Theyre all the same, as if she was in a hurry to get them signed and done with. But Miss Dawson takes them out of her hand and starts looking through them, and suddenly she lets out a screech, and says, I wont have it, I wont have it! Im not dying yet. How dare you, you wicked girl! Cant you wait till Im dead?You want to frighten me into my grave before my time. Havent you got everything you want? And Miss Whittaker says, Hush, auntie, you wont let me explain and the old lady says, No, I wont, I dont want to hear anything about it. I hate the thought of it. I wont talk about it. You leave me be. I cant get better if you keep frightening me so. And then she begins to take and carry on dreadful, and Miss Whittaker comes over to us looking awful white and says, Run along, you girls, she says, my aunts taken ill and cant attend to business. Ill call you if I want you, she says. And I said, Can we help with her, miss? and she says, No, its quite all right. Its just the pain come on again. Ill give her her injection and then shell be all right. And she pushes us out of the room, and shuts the door, and we heard the poor old lady crying fit to break anybodys heart. So we went downstairs and met Nurse just coming in, and we told her Miss Dawson was took worse again, and she runs up quick without taking her things off. So we was in the kitchen, just saying it seemed rather funnylike, when Miss Whittaker comes down again and says, Its all right now, and Aunties sleeping quite peaceful, only well have to put off business till another day. And she says, Better not say anything about this to anybody, because when the pain comes on Aunt gets frightened and talks a bit wild. She dont mean what she says, but if people was to hear about it they might think it odd. So I up and says, Miss Whittaker, I says, me and Bertha was never ones to talk; rather stiff, I said it, because I dont hold by gossip and never did. And Miss Whittaker says, Thats quite all right, and goes away. And the next day she gives us an afternoon off and a presentten shillings each, it was, because it was her aunts birthday, and the old lady wanted us to have a little treat in her honour. A very clear account indeed, Mrs. Cropper, and I only wish all witnesses were as sensible and observant as you are. Theres just one thing. Did you by any chance get a sight of this paper that upset Miss Dawson so much? No, sironly from a distance, that is, and in the lookingglass. But I think it was quite shortjust a few lines of typewriting. I see. Was there a typewriter in the house, by the way? Oh, yes, sir. Miss Whittaker used one quite often for business letters and so on. It used to stand in the sittingroom. Quite so. By the way, do you remember Miss Dawsons solicitor calling shortly after this? No, sir. It was only a little time later Bertha broke the teapot and we left. Miss Whittaker gave her her months warning, but I said no. If she could come down on a girl like that for a little thing, and her such a good worker, Bertha should go at once and me with her. Miss Whittaker said, Just as you like, she saidshe never was one to stand any backchat. So we went that afternoon. But afterwards I think she was sorry, and came over to see us at Christchurch, and suggested why shouldnt we try for a better job in London. Bertha was a bit afraid to go so fartaking after Father, as I mentioned, but Mother, as was always the ambitious one, she says, If the ladys kind enough to give you a good start, why not go? Theres more chances for a girl in Town. And I said to Bertha, privatelike, afterwards, I says, Depend on it, Miss Whittaker wants to see the back of us. Shes afraid well get talking about the things Miss Dawson said that morning. But, I says, if shes willing to pay us to go, why not go, I says. A girls got to look out for herself these days, and if we go off to London shell give us a better character than what she would if we stayed. And anyway, I said, if we dont like it we can always come home again. So the long and short was, we came to Town, and after a bit we got good jobs with Lyons, what with the good character Miss Whittaker gave us, and I met my husband there and Bertha met her Jim. So we never regretted having taken the chancenot till this dreadful thing happened to Bertha. The passionate interest with which her hearers had received this recital must have gratified Mrs. Croppers sense of the dramatic. Mr. Murbles was very slowly rotating his hands over one another with a dry, rustling soundlike an old snake, gliding through the long grass in search of prey. A little scene after your own heart, Murbles, said Lord Peter, with a glint under his dropped eyelids. He turned again to Mrs. Cropper. This is the first time youve told this story? Yesand I wouldnt have said anything if it hadnt been I know. Now, if youll take my advice, Mrs. Cropper, you wont tell it again. Stories like that have a nasty way of bein dangerous. Will you consider it an impertinence if I ask you what your plans are for the next week or two? Im going to see Mother and get her to come back to Canada with me. I wanted her to come when I got married, but she didnt like going so far away from Bertha. She was always Mothers favouritetaking so much after Father, you see. Mother and me was always too much alike to get on. But now shes got nobody else, and it isnt right for her to be all alone, so I think shell come with me. Its a long journey for an ailing old woman, but I reckon bloods thicker than water. My husband said, Bring her back firstclass, my girl, and Ill find the money. Hes a good sort, is my husband. You couldnt do better, said Wimsey, and if youll allow me, Ill send a friend to look after you both on the train journey and see you safe on to the boat. And dont stop long in England. Excuse me buttin in on your affairs like this, but honestly I think youd be safer elsewhere. You dont think that Bertha? Her eyes widened with alarm. I dont like to say quite what I think, because I dont know. But Ill see you and your mother are safe, whatever happens. And Bertha? Can I do anything about that? Well, youll have to come and see my friends at Scotland Yard, I think, and tell them what youve told me. Theyll be interested. And will something be done about it? Im sure, if we can prove theres been any foul play, the police wont rest till its been tracked down to the right person. But the difficulty is, you see, to prove that the death wasnt natural. I observe in todays paper, said Mr. Murbles, that the local superintendent is now satisfied that Miss Gotobed came down alone for a quiet picnic and died of a heart attack. That man would say anything, said Wimsey. We know from the postmortem that she had recently had a heavy mealforgive these distressin details, Mrs. Cropperso why the picnic? I suppose they had the sandwiches and the beerbottle in mind, said Mr. Murbles, mildly. I see. I suppose she went down to Epping alone with a bottle of Bass and took out the cork with her fingers. Ever tried doing it, Murbles? No? Well, when they find the corkscrew Ill believe she went there alone. In the meantime, I hope the papers will publish a few more theories like that. Nothin like inspiring criminals with confidence, Murblesit goes to their heads, you know. XI Crossroads Patienceand shuffle the cards. Don Quixote Lord Peter took Mrs. Cropper down to Christchurch and returned to town to have a conference with Mr. Parker. The latter had just listened to his recital of Mrs. Croppers story, when the discreet opening and closing of the flat door announced the return of Bunter. Any luck? inquired Wimsey. I regret exceedingly to have to inform your lordship that I lost track of the lady. In fact, if your lordship will kindly excuse the expression, I was completely done in the eye. Thank God, Bunter, youre human after all. I didnt know anybody could do you. Have a drink. I am much obliged to your lordship. According to instructions, I searched the platform for a lady in a crimson hat and a grey fur, and at length was fortunate enough to observe her making her way out by the station entrance towards the big bookstall. She was some way ahead of me, but the hat was very conspicuous, and, in the words of the poet, if I may so express myself, I followed the gleam. Stout fellow. Thank you, my lord. The lady walked into the Station Hotel, which, as you know, has two entrances, one upon the platform, and the other upon the street. I hurried after her for fear she should give me the slip, and made my way through the revolving doors just in time to see her back disappearing into the Ladies Retiring Room. Whither, as a modest man, you could not follow her. I quite understand. Quite so, my lord. I took a seat in the entrance hall, in a position from which I could watch the door without appearing to do so. And discovered too late that the place had two exits, I suppose. Unusual and distressin. No, my lord. That was not the trouble. I sat watching for three quarters of an hour, but the crimson hat did not reappear. Your lordship will bear in mind that I had never seen the ladys face. Lord Peter groaned. I foresee the end of this story, Bunter. Not your fault. Proceed. At the end of this time, my lord, I felt bound to conclude either that the lady had been taken ill or that something untoward had occurred. I summoned a female attendant who happened to cross the hall and informed her that I had been entrusted with a message for a lady whose dress I described. I begged her to ascertain from the attendant in the Ladies Room whether the lady in question was still there. The girl went away and presently returned to say that the lady had changed her costume in the cloakroom and had gone out half an hour previously. Oh, Bunter, Bunter. Didnt you spot the suitcase or whatever it was when she came out again? Excuse me, my lord. The lady had come in earlier in the day and had left an attachcase in charge of the attendant. On returning, she had transferred her hat and fur to the attachcase and put on a small black felt hat and a lightweight raincoat which she had packed there in readiness. So that her dress was concealed when she emerged and she was carrying the attachcase, whereas, when I first saw her, she had been emptyhanded. Everything foreseen. What a woman! I made immediate inquiries, my lord, in the region of the hotel and the station, but without result. The black hat and raincoat were entirely inconspicuous, and no one remembered having seen her. I went to the Central Station to discover if she had travelled by any train. Several women answering to the description had taken tickets for various destinations, but I could get no definite information. I also visited all the garages in Liverpool, with the same lack of success. I am greatly distressed to have failed your lordship. Cant be helped. You did everything you could do. Cheer up. Never say die. And you must be tired to death. Take the day off and go to bed. I thank your lordship, but I slept excellently in the train on the way up. Just as you like, Bunter. But I did hope you sometimes got tired like other people. Bunter smiled discreetly and withdrew. Well, weve gained this much, anyhow, said Parker. We know now that this Miss Whittaker has something to conceal, since she takes such precautions to avoid being followed. We know more than that. We know that she was desperately anxious to get hold of the Cropper woman before anybody else could see her, no doubt to stop her mouth by bribery or by worse means. By the way, how did she know she was coming by that boat? Mrs. Cropper sent a cable, which was read at the inquest. Damn these inquests. They give away all the information one wants kept quiet, and produce no evidence worth having. Hear, hear, said Parker, with emphasis, not to mention that we had to sit through a lot of moral punk by the Coroner, about the prevalence of jazz and the immoral behaviour of modern girls in going off alone with young men to Epping Forest. Its a pity these busybodies cant be had up for libel. Never mind. Well get the Whittaker woman yet. Always provided it was the Whittaker woman. After all, Mrs. Cropper may have been mistaken. Lots of people do change their hats in cloakrooms without any criminal intention. Oh, of course. Miss Whittakers supposed to be in the country with Miss Findlater, isnt she? Well get the invaluable Miss Climpson to pump the girl when they turn up again. Meanwhile, what do you think of Mrs. Croppers story? Theres no doubt about what happened there. Miss Whittaker was trying to get the old lady to sign a will without knowing it. She gave it to her all mixed up with the incometax papers, hoping shed put her name to it without reading it. It must have been a will, I think, because thats the only document I know of which is invalid unless its witnessed by two persons in the presence of the testatrix and of each other. Exactly. And since Miss Whittaker couldnt be one of the witnesses herself, but had to get the two maids to sign, the will must have been in Miss Whittakers favour. Obviously. She wouldnt go to all that trouble to disinherit herself. But that brings us to another difficulty. Miss Whittaker, as next of kin, would have taken all the old lady had to leave in any case. As a matter of fact, she did. Why bother about a will? Perhaps, as we said before, she was afraid Miss Dawson would change her mind, and wanted to get a will made out beforeno, that wont work. Nobecause, anyhow, any will made later would invalidate the first will. Besides, the old lady sent for her solicitor some time later, and Miss Whittaker put no obstacle of any kind in her way. According to Nurse Forbes, she was particularly anxious that every facility should be given. Seeing how Miss Dawson distrusted her niece, its a bit surprising, really, that she didnt will the money away. Then it would have been to Miss Whittakers advantage to keep her alive as long as possible. I dont suppose she really distrusted hernot to the extent of expecting to be made away with. She was excited and said more than she meantwe often do. Yes, but she evidently thought thered be other attempts to get a will signed. How do you make that out? Dont you remember the power of attorney? The old girl evidently thought that out and decided to give Miss Whittaker authority to sign everything for her so that there couldnt possibly be any jiggerypokery about papers in future. Of course. Cute old lady. How very irritating for Miss Whittaker. And after that very hopeful visit of the solicitor, too. So disappointing. Instead of the expected will, a very carefully planted spoke in her wheel. Yes. But were still brought up against the problem, why a will at all? So we are. The two men pulled at their pipes for some time in silence. The aunt evidently intended the money to go to Mary Whittaker all right, remarked Parker at last. She promised it so oftenbesides, I daresay she was a justminded old thing, and remembered that it was really Whittaker money which had come to her over the head of the Rev. Charles, or whatever his name was. Thats so. Well, theres only one thing that could prevent that happening, and thatsoh, lord! old son. Do you know what it works out at?The old, old story, beloved of noveliststhe missing heir! Good lord, yes, youre right. Damn it all, what fools we were not to think of it before. Mary Whittaker possibly found out that there was some nearer relative left, who would scoop the lot. Maybe she was afraid that if Miss Dawson got to know about it, shed divide the money or disinherit Mary altogether. Or perhaps she just despaired of hammering the story into the old ladys head, and so hit on the idea of getting her to make the will unbeknownst to herself in Marys favour. What a brain youve got, Charles. Or, see here, Miss Dawson may have known all about it, sly old thing, and determined to pay Miss Whittaker out for her indecent urgency in the matter of willmakin by just dyin intestate in the other chappies favour. If she did, she deserved anything she got, said Parker, rather viciously. After taking the poor girl away from her job under promise of leaving her the dibs. Teach the young woman not to be so mercenary, retorted Wimsey, with the cheerful brutality of the man who has never in his life been short of money. If this bright idea is correct, said Parker, it rather messes up your murder theory, doesnt it? Because Mary would obviously take the line of keeping her aunt alive as long as possible, in hopes she might make a will after all. Thats true. Curse you, Charles, I see that bet of mine going west. What a blow for friend Carr, too. I did hope I was going to vindicate him and have him played home by the village band under a triumphal arch with Welcome, Champion of Truth! picked out in redwhiteandblue electric bulbs. Never mind. Its better to lose a wager and see the light than walk in ignorance bloated with gold.Or stop!why shouldnt Carr be right after all? Perhaps its just my choice of a murderer thats wrong. Aha! I see a new and even more sinister villain step upon the scene. The new claimant, warned by his minions What minions? Oh, dont be so pernickety, Charles. Nurse Forbes, probably. I shouldnt wonder if shes in his pay. Where was I? I wish you wouldnt interrupt. Warned by his minions prompted Parker. Oh, yeswarned by his minions that Miss Dawson is hobnobbing with solicitors and being tempted into making wills and things, gets the said minions to polish her off before she can do any mischief. Yes, but how? Oh, by one of those native poisons which slay in a split second and defy the skill of the analyst. They are familiar to the meanest writer of mystery stories. Im not going to let a trifle like that stand in my way. And why hasnt this hypothetical gentleman brought forward any claim to the property so far? Hes biding his time. The fuss about the death scared him, and hes lying low till its all blown over. Hell find it much more awkward to dispossess Miss Whittaker now shes taken possession. Possession is nine points of the law, you know. I know, but hes going to pretend he wasnt anywhere near at the time of Miss Dawsons death. He only read about it a few weeks ago in a sheet of newspaper wrapped round a salmontin, and now hes rushing home from his distant farm in thingmajig to proclaim himself as the longlost Cousin Tom  Great Scott! that reminds me. He plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out a letter. This came this morning just as I was going out, and I met Freddy Arbuthnot on the doorstep and shoved it into my pocket before Id read it properly. But I do believe there was something in it about a Cousin Somebody from some godforsaken spot. Lets see. He unfolded the letter, which was written in Miss Climpsons oldfashioned flowing hand, and ornamented with such a variety of underlinings and exclamation marks as to look like an exercise in musical notation. Oh, lord! said Parker. Yes, its worse than usual, isnt it?it must be of desperate importance. Luckily its comparatively short. My dear Lord Peter, I heard something this morning which may be of use so I hasten to communicate it!! You remember I mentioned before that Mrs. Budges maid is the sister of the present maid at Miss Whittakers? Well!!! The aunt of these two girls came to pay a visit to Mrs. Budges girl this afternoon, and was introduced to meof course, as boarder at Mrs. Budges I am naturally an object of local interestand, bearing your instructions in mind, I encourage this to an extent I should not otherwise do!! It appears that this aunt was well acquainted with a former housekeeper of Miss Dawsonsbefore the time of the Gotobed girls, I mean. The aunt is a highly respectable person of forbidding aspect!with a bonnet (!), and to my mind, a most disagreeable censorious woman. However!We got to speaking of Miss Dawsons death, and this aunther name is Timminsprimmed up her mouth and said No unpleasant scandal would surprise me about that family, Miss Climpson. They were most undesirably connected! You recollect, Mrs. Budge, that I felt obliged to leave after the appearance of that most extraordinary person who announced himself as Miss Dawsons cousin. Naturally, I asked who this might be not having heard of any other relations! She said that this person, whom she described as a nasty dirty nigger (!!!) arrived one morning, dressed up as a clergyman!!!and sent herMiss Timminsto announce him to Miss Dawson as her Cousin Hallelujah!!! Miss Timmins showed him up, much against her will, she said, into the nice clean, drawingroom! Miss Dawson, she said, actually came down to see this creature instead of sending him about his black business (!), and as a crowning scandal, asked him to stay to lunch!with her niece there, too, Miss Timmins said, and this horrible blackamoor rolling his dreadful eyes at her. Miss Timmins said that it regularly turned her stomachthat was her phrase, and I trust you will excuse itI understand that these parts of the body are frequently referred to in polite (!) society nowadays. In fact, it appears she refused to cook the lunch for the poor black man(after all, even blacks are Gods creatures and we might all be black ourselves if He had not in His infinite kindness seen fit to favour us with white skins!!)and walked straight out of the house!!! So that unfortunately she cannot tell us anything further about this remarkable incident! She is certain, however, that the nigger had a visitingcard with the name Rev. H. Dawson upon it, and an address in foreign parts. It does seem strange, does it not, but I believe many of these native preachers are called to do splendid work among their own people, and no doubt a minister is entitled to have a visitingcard, even when black!!! In great haste, Sincerely yours, A. K. Climpson. God bless my soul, said Lord Peter, when he had disentangled this screedheres our claimant ready made. With a hide as black as his heart, apparently, replied Parker. I wonder where the Rev. Hallelujah has got toand where he came from. Heerhe wouldnt be in Crockford, I suppose. He would be, probably, if hes Church of England, said Lord Peter, dubiously, going in search of that valuable work of reference. DawsonRev. George, Rev. Gordon, Rev. Gurney, Rev. Habbakuk, Rev. Hadrian, Rev. Hammondno, theres no Rev. Hallelujah. I was afraid the name hadnt altogether an established sound. It would be easier if we had an idea what part of the world the gentleman came from. Nigger, to a Miss Timmins, may mean anything from a highcaste Brahmin to Sambo and Rastus at the Coliseumit may even, at a pinch, be an Argentine or an Eskimo. I suppose other religious bodies have their Crockfords, suggested Parker, a little hopelessly.