‘She’s one of those who’d sooner tell a lie than not,’ said Hemingway. ‘She’ll keep. Where does this Dr Chester live? I’ll see that housekeeper of his next.’
The doctor was out when they presently reached his house in the village. A manservant opened the door to them, and ushered the Inspector and his Sergeant into a room in the front of the house. Here, the housekeeper, an elderly woman with kindly, short-sighted blue eyes, soon joined them. She looked rather alarmed, but assured Hemingway that, although she knew nothing about Mr Carter’s death, she would be only too glad to tell him anything that could be of use to him.
‘I’m just checking up on the evidence,’ explained Hemingway. ‘By what I hear, the doctor had a visit on Sunday from this Prince that’s staying with Mrs Carter, didn’t he?’
‘Oh yes, that’s right! He’s foreign, and ever such a pleasant-spoken gentleman! He was expected, you know. The doctor told me to make tea for two, because the Prince was coming to look at his bits of stuff that he dug up. Remains, that’s what they are, and very valuable, I understand, though they look to me like a lot of rubbishy trash.’
‘Do you happen to remember when the Prince arrived?’ asked Hemingwa
y.
‘Well, now, that’s something I can answer!’ said Mrs Phelps, beaming at him. ‘Not that I’m generally much of a one for taking notice of the time, but I do remember that! It was just on five-to-five.’
‘It’s queer how some things will stick in one’s head, while others won’t,’ said Hemingway conversationally. ‘I wonder what made you remember that?’
‘I’ll tell you just how it was,’ said Mrs Phelps. ‘You see, it was Thompson’s day off, and I was alone in the kitchen. So when the doctor was called out to a case, he shouted to me that he had to go out, but that he’d be back in time to receive the Prince.’
‘What time was the doctor called out?’
‘Now, that I can’t tell you, not happening to notice, but it can’t have been much after half-past four, if as late, I shouldn’t think, because it didn’t seem long before I heard the front-door bell, and when I went to answer it, there was a foreign-looking gentleman. Of course, I guessed it was the Prince, for he had Miss Vicky’s car, besides speaking in a foreign way. Well, naturally, I asked him to come in, and I told him about the doctor’s being sent for. “He must have been kept,” I said, “for he told me distinctly he’d be back before you arrived.” Well, I was quite flustered, because it isn’t every day you have a Prince coming to tea, and I don’t pretend to know the way to behave towards people like that. “Oh, I am sorry the doctor’s not back!” I said, because I thought he’d very likely take offence. “He’ll be very put out,” I said, “but your Highness knows how it is with doctors. I do hope you won’t be offended,” I said. Well, really, I’d no idea a prince would be as easy to explain anything to! “There’s nothing in the world to worry about,” he said, or something of the sort, for I wouldn’t swear to his exact words. “It is I who am at fault,” he said, with ever such a lovely smile. “I have made the journey more quickly than I expected, and I am before my time. I see that it is not yet five o’clock,” he said. And he showed me his wrist-watch, just like anyone might, and it was five-to-five. It isn’t likely I’d forget a thing like that! It was a lovely watch, too.’
‘And did you happen to compare his watch with one of the clocks in the house?’ inquired the Inspector.
‘Why, whatever should I do that for?’ said Mrs Phelps. ‘I’m sure I’d no reason to doubt the Prince’s word! I just showed him into the doctor’s sitting-room, and begged him to take a chair, and it can’t have been more than ten minutes, or perhaps a quarter of an hour, before the doctor got back, though that I won’t swear to.’
‘That’s all I wanted to know,’ said the Inspector, and took his leave of her.
‘Well,’ said Sergeant Wake, when they reached the street again, ‘that certainly makes the Prince’s alibi look a bit funny.’
‘Yes, and it makes the local police-work here look a bit funny, too,’ said Hemingway. ‘Nice way to take evidence! If you ask me, the Prince hasn’t got an alibi at all – to put it no stronger! Very fishy it looks, him calling attention to the time, as registered, by his own watch! Now we’ll make a few inquiries, my lad, and see what’s what!’
Eleven
The inquiries made by Inspector Hemingway in Stilhurst village were fruitless. The only person who seemed to have seen Vicky’s sports-car draw up outside the doctor’s house had such hazy ideas of the time that Hemingway gave him up in disgust. He was about to get into the police-car again when the constable nodded towards a car which had drawn up outside the post office. ‘That’s the doctor,’ he said.
Hemingway did not follow Chester into the post office, which was also the grocery, but waited by his car until he returned to it. When he presently made himself known to Chester, the doctor showed no surprise, but merely asked in what way he could be of use.
‘Well, sir, I’m checking up on certain times,’ Hemingway explained. ‘If you can tell me when you got back to your house on Sunday afternoon, it might help me a lot.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. It was some time after five – possibly nearly half past five, for I was kept longer than I had foreseen.’
‘Thank you,’ said the Inspector, with a comical look that drew a smile from Chester.
‘I’m really very sorry. Hullo, Hugh!’
The Inspector turned, as Hugh Dering came strolling across the street. Dr Chester said: ‘You seem to have constituted yourself legal adviser up at Palings, so perhaps you’d like to be introduced to Inspector Hemingway, from Scotland Yard. This is Mr Dering, Inspector.’
The Inspector had an excellent memory, and he said at once: ‘Are you the gentleman who arrived at Palings shortly after the murder?’
‘Me,’ said Hugh cheerfully. ‘Don’t ask me if I’m sure I didn’t see a suspicious stranger, because I don’t think I can bear it! Are you on your way to Palings now? Can I give you a lift? My car’s just down the street.’
‘Well, that’s very kind of you, sir. I’ll be glad to go along with you. I’ll just have a word with my Sergeant, if you’ll wait a minute.’
Hugh nodded, and watched him walk over to the police-car. ‘I hoped this wasn’t going to happen,’ he remarked.
‘It was bound to. The gentleman from Scotland Yard seems a decent chap, however. How are they, up at Palings?’
‘I haven’t been there today. They were all right last night. I suppose you’ve heard that one of the late Fanshawe’s rifles was found in the shrubbery?’