II

As Craddock retraced his steps through the kitchen garden he came face toface with a large red-faced lady, carefully corseted.

“Good morning,” she said belligerently. “What do you want here?”

“Mrs. Lucas? I am Detective-Inspector Craddock.”

“Oh, that’s who you are? I beg your pardon. I don’t like strangers forcingtheir way into my garden wasting the gardeners’ time. But I quite under-stand you have to do your duty.”

“Quite so.”

“May I ask if we are to expect a repetition of that outrage last night atMiss Blacklock’s? Is it a gang?”

“We are satisfied, Mrs. Lucas, that it was not the work of a gang.”

“There are far too many robberies nowadays. The police are gettingslack.” Craddock did not reply. “I suppose you’ve been talking to PhillipaHaymes?”

“I wanted her account as an eyewitness.”

“You couldn’t have waited until one o’clock, I suppose? After all, itwould be fairer to question her in her time, rather than in mine. …”

“I’m anxious to get back to headquarters.”

“Not that one expects consideration nowadays. Or a decent day’s work.

On duty late, half an hour’s pottering. A break for elevenses at ten o’clock.

No work done at all the moment the rain starts. When you want the lawnmown there’s always something wrong with the mower. And off duty fiveor ten minutes before the proper time.”

“I understood from Mrs. Haymes that she left here at twenty minutespast five yesterday instead of five o’clock.”

“Oh, I dare say she did. Give her her due, Mrs. Haymes is quite keen onher work, though there have been days when I have come out here andnot been able to find her anywhere. She is a lady by birth, of course, andone feels it’s one’s duty to do something for these poor young war widows.

Not that it isn’t very inconvenient. Those long school holidays and the ar-rangement is that she has extra time off then. I told her that there arereally excellent camps nowadays where children can be sent and wherethey have a delightful time and enjoy it far more than wandering aboutwith their parents. They need practically not come home at all in the sum-mer holidays.”

“But Mrs. Haymes didn’t take kindly to that idea?”

“She’s as obstinate as a mule, that girl. Just the time of year when I wantthe tennis court mowed and marked nearly every day. Old Ashe gets thelines crooked. But my convenience is never considered!”

“I presume Mrs. Haymes takes a smaller salary than is usual?”

“Naturally. What else could she expect?”

“Nothing, I’m sure,” said Craddock. “Good morning, Mrs. Lucas.”

III

“It was dreadful,” said Mrs. Swettenham happily. “Quite—quite—dreadful,and what I say is that they ought to be far more careful what advertise-ments they accept at the Gazette office. At the time, when I read it, Ithought it was very odd. I said so, didn’t I, Edmund?”

“Do you remember just what you were doing when the lights went out,Mrs. Swettenham?” asked the Inspector.

“How that reminds me of my old Nannie! Where was Moses when the lightwent out? The answer, of course, was ‘In the Dark.’ Just like us yesterdayevening. All standing about and wondering what was going to happen.

And then, you know, the thrill when it suddenly went pitch black. And thedoor opening—just a dim figure standing there with a revolver and thatblinding light and a menacing voice saying ‘Your money or your life!’ Oh,I’ve never enjoyed anything so much. And then a minute later, of course, itwas all dreadful. Real bullets, just whistling past our ears! It must havebeen just like the Commandos in the war.”

“Whereabouts were you standing or sitting at the time, Mrs. Swetten-ham?”

“Now let me see, where was I? Who was I talking to, Edmund?”

“I really haven’t the least idea, Mother.”

“Was it Miss Hinchcliffe I was asking about giving the hens cod liver oilin the cold weather? Or was it Mrs. Harmon—no, she’d only just arrived. Ithink I was just saying to Colonel Easterbrook that I thought it was reallyvery dangerous to have an atom research station in England. It ought to beon some lonely island in case the radio activity gets loose.”

“You don’t remember if you were sitting or standing?”

“Does it really matter, Inspector? I was somewhere over by the windowor near the mantelpiece, because I know I was quite near the clock when itstruck. Such a thrilling moment! Waiting to see if anything might be goingto happen.”

“You describe the light from the torch as blinding. Was it turned full onto you?”

“It was right in my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing.”

“Did the man hold it still, or did he move it about, from person to per-son?”

“Oh, I don’t really know. Which did he do, Edmund?”

“It moved rather slowly over us all, so as to see what we were all doing, Isuppose, in case we should try and rush him.”

“And where exactly in the room were you, Mr. Swettenham?”

“I’d been talking to Julia Simmons. We were both standing up in themiddle of the room—the long room.”

“Was everyone in that room, or was there anyone in the far room?”

“Phillipa Haymes had moved in there, I think. She was over by that farmantelpiece. I think she was looking for something.”

“Have you any idea as to whether the third shot was suicide or an acci-dent?”

“I’ve no idea at all. The man seemed to swerve round very suddenly andthen crumple up and fall—but it was all very confused. You must realisethat you couldn’t really see anything. And then that refugee girl startedyelling the place down.”

“I understand it was you who unlocked the dining room door and lether out?”

“Yes.”

“The door was definitely locked on the outside?”

Edmund looked at him curiously.

“Certainly it was. Why, you don’t imagine—?”

“I just like to get my facts quite clear. Thank you, Mr. Swettenham.”