"VERY GOOD of yOU to come along," said Maude gruffly, as

she greeted Mr. Entwhistle on the platform of Bayham Compton station. "I can a.s.sure you that both Timothy and I much appreciate it. Of course the truth is that Richard's death was the worst thing possible for Timothy."

Mr. Entwhistle had not yet considered his friend's death from this particular angle. But it was, he saw, the only angle from which Mrs. Timothy Aberuethie was likely to regard it.

As they proceeded towards the exit, Maude developed the theme.

"To begin with, it was a shock--Timothy was really very attached to Richard. And then unfortunately it put the idea of death into Timothy's head. Being such an invalid has made him rather nervous about himself. He realised that he was the only one of the brothers left alive--and he started saying that he'd be the next to go---and that it wouldn't be long now--all very morbid talk, as I told him."

They emerged from the station and Maude led the way to a dilapidated car of almost fabulous antiquity.

"Sorry about our old rattletrap," she said. "We've wanted a new car for years, but really we couldn't afford it.

This has had a new engine twice--and these old cars really stand up to a lot of hard work.

48

"I hope it will start," she added. "Sometimes one has to wind it."

She pressed the starter several times but only a meaningless whirr resulted. Mr. Entwhistle, who had never wound a car in his life, felt rather apprehensive, but Maude herself de-scended, inserted the starting handle and with a vigorous couple of turns woke the motor to life. It was fortunate, Mr. Entwhistle reflected, that Maude was such a powerfully built woman.

"That's that," she said. "The old brute's been playing me up lately. Did it when I was coming back after the funeral.

Had to walk a couple of miles to the nearest garage and they weren't good for muchmjust a village affair. I had to put up at the local inn while they tinkered at it. Of course that upset Timothy: too. I had to phone through to him and tell him I couldn t be back till the next day. Fussed him terribly.

One tries to keep things from him as much as jpossible--but some things one can't do anything about--Cora s murder, for instance. I had to send for Dr. Barton to give him a sedative.

Things like murder are too much for a man in Timothy's state of health. I gather Cora was always a fool."

Mr. Entwhistle digested this remark in silence. The infer-ence was not quite clear to him.

"I don't think I'd seen Cora since our marriage," said Maude. "I didn't like to say to Timothy at the time: ' Your

y

oungest sister's batty,' not just like that. But it's what thought. There she was saying the most extraordinary things t One didn't know whether to resent them or whether to laugh. I suppose the truth is she lived in a kind of imaginary world of her own--full of melodrama and fantastic ideas about other people. Well, poor soul, she's paid for it now.

She

didn't have any proteges, did she ?"

"Proteges ? What do you mean ?"

"I just wondered. Some young cadging artist, or musician --or something of that kind. Someone she might have let in that day, and who killed her for her loose cash. Perhaps an adolescent--they're so queer at that age sometimes--especially if they're the neurotic arty type. I mean, it seems so odd to break in and murder her in the middle of the afternoon. If you break into a house surely you'd do it at night."

"There would have been two women there then."

"Oh yes, the companion. But really I can't believe that anyone would deliberately wait until she was out of the way and then break in and attack Cora. What for ? He can't have expected she'd have any cash or stuff to speak of, and

49

there must have been times when both the women were out and

the house was empty. That would have been much safer. It

seems so stupid to go and commit a murder unless it's abso lutely necessary."

"And Cora's murder, you feel, was unnecessary ?"

' It all seems so stupid."

Should murder make sense ? Mr. Entwhistle wondered.

Academically the answer was yes. But many pointless crimes

were on record. It depended, Mr. Entwhistle reflected, on the

mentality of the murderer.

What did he really know about murderers and their mental

processes ? Very little. His firm had never had a criminal

practice. He was no student of criminology himself. Mur derers, as far as he could judge, seemed to be of all sorts and kinds. Some had had over-weening vanity, some had had

a l.u.s.t 'for power, some, like Seddon, had been mean and

avaricious, others, like Smith and Rowse had had an incredible

fascination for women; some, like Armstrong, had been

pleasant fellows to meet. Edith Thompson had lived in a

world of violent unreality, Nurse Waddington had put her

elderly patients out of the way with business-like cheerfulness.

Maude's voice broke into his meditations.

"If I could only keep the newspapers from Timothy!

But he will insist on reading them--and then, of course, it

upsets him. You do understand, don't you, Mr. Entwhistle,

that there can be no question of Timothy's attending the inquest ? If necessary, Dr. Barton can write out a certificate

or whatever it is."

"You can set your mind at rest about that."

"Thank goodness I"