IV

“It’s only a theory,” said Rydesdale as they drove back to Medenham.

“Nothing to support it, nothing at all. Put it down as old maid’s vapouringsand let it go, eh?”

“I’d rather not do that, sir.”

“It’s all very improbable. A mysterious X appearing suddenly in thedarkness behind our Swiss friend. Where did he come from? Who was he?

Where had he been?”

“He could have come in through the side door,” said Craddock, “just asScherz came. Or,” he added slowly, “he could have come from the kit-chen.”

“She could have come from the kitchen, you mean?”

“Yes, sir, it’s a possibility. I’ve not been satisfied about that girl all along.

She strikes me as a nasty bit of goods. All that screaming and hysterics—itcould have been put on. She could have worked on this young fellow, lethim in at the right moment, rigged the whole thing, shot him, bolted backinto the dining room, caught up her bit of silver and her chamois and star-ted her screaming act.”

“Against that we have the fact that—er—what’s his name—oh, yes, Ed-mund Swettenham, definitely says the key was turned on the outside ofthe door, and that he turned it to release her. Any other door into that partof the house?”

“Yes, there’s a door to the back stairs and kitchen just under the stairs,but it seems the handle came off three weeks ago and nobody’s come toput it on yet. In the meantime you can’t open the door. I’m bound to saythat story seems correct. The spindle and the two handles were on a shelfoutside the door in the hall and they were thickly coated with dust, but ofcourse a professional would have ways of opening that door all right.”

“Better look up the girl’s record. See if her papers are in order. But itseems to me the whole thing is very theoretical.”

Again the Chief Constable looked inquiringly at his subordinate. Crad-dock replied quietly:

“I know, sir, and of course if you think the case ought to be closed, itmust be. But I’d appreciate it if I could work on it for just a little longer.”

Rather to his surprise the Chief Constable said quietly and approvingly:

“Good lad.”

“There’s the revolver to work on. If this theory is correct, it wasn’tScherz’s revolver and certainly nobody so far has been able to say thatScherz ever had a revolver.”

“It’s a German make.”

“I know, sir. But this country’s absolutely full of Continental makes ofguns. All the Americans brought them back and so did our chaps. Youcan’t go by that.”

“True enough. Any other lines of inquiry?”

“There’s got to be a motive. If there’s anything in this theory at all, itmeans that last Friday’s business wasn’t a mere joke, and wasn’t an ordin-ary hold-up, it was a cold-blooded attempt at murder. Somebody tried tomurder Miss Blacklock. Now why? It seems to me that if anyone knows theanswer to that it must be Miss Blacklock herself.”

“I understand she rather poured cold water on that idea?”

“She poured cold water on the idea that Rudi Scherz wanted to murderher. And she was quite right. And there’s another thing, sir.”

“Yes?”

“Somebody might try again.”

“That would certainly prove the truth of the theory,” said the Chief Con-stable dryly. “By the way, look after Miss Marple, won’t you?”

“Miss Marple? Why?”

“I gather she is taking up residence at the Vicarage in Chipping Cleghornand coming into Medenham Wells twice a week for her treatments. Itseems that Mrs. What’shername is the daughter of an old friend of MissMarple’s. Good sporting instincts, that old bean. Oh, well, I suppose shehasn’t much excitement in her life and sniffing round after possible mur-derers gives her a kick.”

“I wish she wasn’t coming,” said Craddock seriously.

“Going to get under your feet?”

“Not that, sir, but she’s a nice old thing. I shouldn’t like anything to hap-pen to her … always supposing, I mean, that there’s anything in this the-ory.”