“It did not seem to you that the shot was in the house?”
“No, I thought it came from outside. I thought it might have been the backfire of a car.”
“During the quarrel between your husband and this young fellow Lawson in the study, did you notice anybody leaving the Hall?”
“Wally had already gone to see about the lights. Miss Bellever went out shortly afterwards—to get something, but I can’t remember what.”
“Who else left the Hall?”
“Nobody, so far as I know.”
“Would you know, Mrs. Serrocold?”
She reflected a moment.
“No, I don’t think I should.”
“You were completely absorbed in what you could hear going on in the study?”
“Yes.”
“And you were apprehensive as to what might happen there?”
“No—no, I wouldn’t say that. I didn’t think anything would really happen.”
“But Lawson had a revolver?”
“Yes.”
“And was threatening your husband with it?”
“Yes. But he didn’t mean it.”
Inspector Curry felt his usual slight exasperation at this statement. So she was another of them!
“You can’t possibly have been sure of that, Mrs. Serrocold.”
“Well, but I was sure. In my own mind, I mean. What is it the young people say—putting on an act? That’s what I felt it was. Edgar’s only a boy. He was being melodramatic and silly and fancying himself as a bold desperate character. Seeing himself as the wronged hero in a romantic story. I was quite sure he would never fire that revolver.”
“But he did fire it, Mrs. Serrocold.”
Carrie Louise smiled.
“I expect it went off by accident.”
Again exasperation mounted in Inspector Curry.
“It was not by accident. Lawson fired that revolver twice—and fired it at your husband. The bullets only just missed him.”
Carrie Louise looked startled and then grave.
“I can’t really believe that. Oh yes—” she hurried on to forestall the Inspector’s protest. “Of course, I have to believe it, if you tell me so. But I still feel there must be a simple explanation. Perhaps Dr. Maverick can explain it to me.”
“Oh yes, Dr. Maverick will explain it all right,” said Curry grimly. “Dr. Maverick can explain anything. I’m sure of that.”
Unexpectedly Mrs. Serrocold said:
“I know that a lot of what we do here seems to you foolish and pointless, and psychiatrists can be very irritating sometimes. But we do achieve results, you know. We have our failures, but we have successes too. And what we try to do is worth doing. And though you probably won’t believe it, Edgar is really devoted to my husband. He started this silly business about Lewis’ being his father because he wants so much to have a father like Lewis. But what I can’t understand is why he should suddenly get violent. He had been so very much better—really practically normal. Indeed, he has always seemed normal to me.”
The Inspector did not argue the point.
He said, “The revolver that Edgar Lawson had was one belonging to your granddaughter’s husband. Presumably Lawson took it from Walter Hudd’s room. Now tell me, have you ever seen this weapon before?”
On the palm of his hand he held out the small black automatic.
Carrie Louise looked at it.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I found it in the piano stool. It has recently been fired. We haven’t had time to check on it fully yet, but I should say that it is almost certainly the weapon with which Mr. Gulbrandsen was shot.”
She frowned.
“And you found it in the piano stool?”
“Under some very old music. Music that I should say had not been played for years.”
“Hidden, then?”
“Yes. You remember who was at the piano last night?”
“Stephen Restarick.”
“He was playing?”
“Yes. Just softly. A funny, melancholy little tune.”
“When did he stop playing, Mrs. Serrocold?”
“When did he stop? I don’t know.”
“But he did stop? He didn’t go on playing all through the quarrel?”
“No. The music just died down.”
“Did he get up from the piano stool?”
“I don’t know. I’ve no idea what he did until he came over to the study door to try and fit a key to it.”
“Can you think of any reason why Stephen Restarick should shoot Mr. Gulbrandsen?”
“None whatever,” she added thoughtfully, “I don’t believe he did.”
“Gulbrandsen might have found something discreditable about him.”
“That seems to me very unlikely.”
Inspector Curry had a wild wish to reply:
“Pigs may fly but they’re very unlikely birds.” It had been a saying of his grandmother’s. Miss Marple, he thought, was sure to know it.
3
Carrie Louise came down the broad stairway, and three people converged upon her from different directions, Gina from the long corridor, Miss Marple from the library, and Juliet Bellever from the Great Hall.
Gina spoke first.
“Darling!” she exclaimed passionately. “Are you all right? They haven’t bullied you or given you third degree or anything?”
“Of course not, Gina. What odd ideas you have! Inspector Curry was charming and most considerate.”
“So he ought to be,” said Miss Bellever. “Now, Cara, I’ve got all your letters here and a parcel. I was going to bring them up to you.”
“Bring them into the library,” said Carrie Louise.
All four of them went into the library.
Carrie Louise sat down and began opening her letters. There were about twenty or thirty of them.
As she opened them, she handed them to Miss Bellever who sorted them into heaps, explaining to Miss Marple as she did so, “Three main categories. One—from relations of the boys. Those I hand over to Dr. Maverick. Begging letters I deal with myself. And the rest are personal—and Cara gives me notes on how to deal with them.”
The correspondence once disposed of, Mrs. Serrocold turned her attention to the parcel, cutting the string with scissors.
Out of the neat wrappings, there appeared an attractive box of chocolates tied up with a gold ribbon.
“Someone must think it’s my birthday,” said Mrs. Serrocold with a smile.
She slipped off the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a visiting card. Carrie Louise looked at it with slight surprise.
“With love from Alex,” she read. “How odd of him to send me a box of chocolates by post on the same day he was coming down here.”
Uneasiness stirred in Miss Marple’s mind.
She said quickly:
“Wait a minute, Carrie Louise. Don’t eat one yet.”
Mrs. Serrocold looked faintly surprised.
“I was going to hand them round.”
“Well, don’t. Wait while I ask—is Alex about the house, do you know, Gina?”
Gina said quickly, “Alex was in the Hall just now, I think.”
She went across, opened the door, and called him.
Alex Restarick appeared in the doorway a moment later.
“Madonna darling! So you’re up. None the worse?”
He came across to Mrs. Serrocold and kissed her gently on both cheeks.
Miss Marple said:
“Carrie Louise wants to thank you for the chocolates.”
Alex looked surprised.
“What chocolates?”
“These chocolates,” said Carrie Louise.
“But I never sent you any chocolates, darling.”
“The box has got your card in,” said Miss Bellever.
Alex peered down.
“So it has. How odd. How very odd … I certainly didn’t send them.”
“What a very extraordinary thing,” s
aid Miss Bellever.