Thirty-one

Colonel Melchett and I both stared at her.

“A trap? What kind of a trap?”

Miss Marple was a little diffident, but it was clear that she had a planfully outlined.

“Supposing Mr. Redding were to be rung up on the telephone andwarned.”

Colonel Melchett smiled.

“‘All is discovered. Fly!’ That’s an old wheeze, Miss Marple. Not that itisn’t often successful! But I think in this case young Redding is too downy abird to be caught that way.”

“It would have to be something specific. I quite realize that,” said MissMarple. “I would suggest—this is just a mere suggestion—that the warningshould come from somebody who is known to have rather unusual viewson these matters. Dr. Haydock’s conversation would lead anyone to sup-pose that he might view such a thing as murder from an unusual angle. Ifhe were to hint that somebody—Mrs. Sadler—or one of her children—hadactually happened to see the transposing of the cachets—well, of course, ifMr. Redding is an innocent man, that statement will mean nothing to him,but if he isn’t—”

“Well, he might just possibly do something foolish.”

“And deliver himself into our hands. It’s possible. Very ingenious, MissMarple. But will Haydock stand for it? As you say, his views—”

Miss Marple interrupted him brightly.

“Oh, but that’s theory! So very different from practice, isn’t it? But any-way, here he is, so we can ask him.”

Haydock was, I think, rather astonished to find Miss Marple with us. Helooked tired and haggard.

“It’s been a near thing,” he said. “A very near thing. But he’s going topull through. It’s a doctor’s business to save his patient and I saved him,but I’d have been just as glad if I hadn’t pulled it off.”

“You may think differently,” said Melchett, “when you have heard whatwe have to tell you.”

And briefly and succinctly, he put Miss Marple’s theory of the crime be-fore the doctor, ending up with her final suggestion.

We were then privileged to see exactly what Miss Marple meant by thedifference between theory and practice.

Haydock’s views appeared to have undergone a complete transforma-tion. He would, I think, have liked Lawrence Redding’s head on a charger.

It was not, I imagine, the murder of Colonel Protheroe that so stirred hisrancour. It was the assault on the unlucky Hawes.

“The damned scoundrel,” said Haydock. “The damned scoundrel! Thatpoor devil Hawes. He’s got a mother and a sister too. The stigma of beingthe mother and sister of a murderer would have rested on them for life,and think of their mental anguish. Of all the cowardly dastardly tricks!”

For sheer primitive rage, commend me to a thoroughgoing humanit-arian when you get him well roused.

“If this thing’s true,” he said, “you can count on me. The fellow’s not fitto live. A defenceless chap like Hawes.”

A lame dog of any kind can always count on Haydock’s sympathy.

He was eagerly arranging details with Melchett when Miss Marple roseand I insisted on seeing her home.

“It is most kind of you, Mr. Clement,” said Miss Marple, as we walkeddown the deserted street. “Dear me, past twelve o’clock. I hope Raymondhas gone to bed and not waited up.”

“He should have accompanied you,” I said.

“I didn’t let him know I was going,” said Miss Marple.

I smiled suddenly as I remembered Raymond West’s subtle psycholo-gical analysis of the crime.

“If your theory turns out to be the truth—which I for one do not doubtfor a minute,” I said, “you will have a very good score over your nephew.”

Miss Marple smiled also—an indulgent smile.

“I remember a saying of my Great Aunt Fanny’s. I was sixteen at thetime and thought it particularly foolish.”

“Yes?” I inquired.

“She used to say: ‘The young people think the old people are fools; butthe old people know the young people are fools!’”