Crisp tapped impatiently.

“Well-well-what did she tell you?”

Castell’s eyes gleamed. It was quite obvious that he was enjoying himself.

“She does not want to tell me, you understand. She cries and says she has always kept it to herself. And I say, ‘What has always been must at some time come to an end, and when there is a murder and the police in the house, that is the time for it to come to an end.’ And at the last she tells me.”

Crisp fairly banged on the table.

“Mr. Castell, will you come to the point and tell us what your wife said!”

Castell spread out his hands.

“And with what reluctance she says it! That is part of the evidence, her reluctance, is it not? She does not wish to suggest a motive, to accuse, to say anything at all. I say to her, ‘It is your duty,’ and she shakes her head. I say, ‘I am your husband and I command you!’ She weeps. I say, ‘Have you no heart for John Higgins who is your nephew, and for Eily who looks already like an apparition from the tomb?’ Then she tells me.”

Frank Abbott said in his languid voice,

“All right, Castell, we’ve got the mise en scène. Just tell us what she said.”

If Chief Inspector Lamb had been present he would at this point have had something to say. It was his considered opinion that the English language contained all the words required by any police officer who hadn’t got wind in the head. French words in particular had a highly inflammatory effect on his temper and his complexion. In his absence Frank could indulge himself with impunity.

Castell became very animated indeed. He turned from one to the other, he waved his hands.

“My wife Annie Castell, she says a name.”

Crisp said sharply, “What name?”

“I will not disguise it from you, Inspector-it is the name of Mrs. Duke.”

“What does she say about Mrs. Duke?”

“She weeps as she says it. If you could have seen her!”

“Never mind about that! What did she say?”

Castell spread out those fat hands.

“She weeps, and she tells me. It is before we are married, you will understand, and my wife she is chef at the White Lion at Lenton. Never has the hotel done so much business. From all over the county they come-to lunch, to dine, to give supper parties, because of her cooking. And my poor Luke, he is the barman. She has known him a little all her life, you understand, because he is some sort of a cousin-on the wrong side of the blanket, as you say. One day he says to her, ‘I am going to get married, Cousin Annie.’ He calls her that because it vexes her, and he can be malicious that poor Luke. So then she says who is it he is marrying, and he says, ‘You would be surprised.’ And when he tells her it is her own cousin Florence Duke-”

This time both Inspectors said, “What!” together.

Castell smiled and nodded.

“When he tells her that-well, she is surprised like you have been.”

Frank Abbott said, “Florence Duke was married to Luke White?”

“My wife says so. Florence, she was behind the bar at the George, which is the other hotel at Lenton. Annie knew she was there, and they had spoken once or twice, but they did not know each other well, as cousins should, because of the quarrel in the family. She was also young and gay. My wife Annie, you will understand, is very particular, very respectable.”

Frank Abbott said, “Are you sure there was a marriage?”

Castell nodded.

“My wife Annie says so. She says it would be in ’31 or ’32- in July-at the register office in Lenton. And after that they went away, the two of them, to take a job together, and she did not see Luke again”-he shrugged and gestured-“not for many years. When he comes here she asks him, ‘What about your wife Florence?’ and he laughs and says, ‘It didn’t last long, and she has gone back to calling herself Florence Duke again.’ ”

Crisp said, “Is that all?”

Castell leaned forward, dropping his voice confidentially.

“Shall I tell you what I think? I think that when Florence comes here she does not know at all that Luke is here. I think it gives her a great shock. She looks very bad after she has seen him. I think she comes down in the night to have a meeting with him. She says she was in the kitchen. Pfft! His room is opposite-I think she was there. I think they quarrel. He is very inconstant with women that poor Luke. He fascinates them, and goes away and forgets. What is it in the proverb-‘Hell hasn’t got anything so furious like a woman who is scorned’? It is not my business to say anything, but we all saw the blood on her hands.” He pushed back his chair. “That is all! I go to console my wife!”

When they could no longer hear his footsteps going down the passage Crisp growled,

“What do you make of that?”

Frank cocked an eyebrow.

“I think Annie Castell wouldn’t stand for putting it on John Higgins.”

Inspector Crisp fussed off to use the telephone and set the Lenton registrar looking up July marriages in ’31 and ’32.

When he had gone Frank Abbott remained draped against the fireplace. He contemplated Miss Silver, whose attention appeared to be absorbed by little Josephine’s bright blue dress, the completed skirt of which now lay spread out upon her lap. The gathered effect was very satisfactory-really very satisfactory indeed. The tight plain bodice which she was about to begin would be becoming and quaint. She decided that the measurements were just what they should be, picked up her needles, and set them clicking.

The smile with which Frank was regarding her would not have been allowed to betray him if they had not been alone together. It expressed very faithfully the feelings with which she had now for many years inspired him. They were an odd mixture of affection, respect, amusement, and something very like reverence. It would have surprised a good many people to catch the expression which softened those cool blue eyes, though there was still a hint of sarcasm when he smiled. It was there as he said interrogatively,

“Well?”

She looked up at him with gravity.

“What is it that you want to know?”

“Your reaction to Castell’s volte-face. First he pushes John Higgins at us up hill, down dale, and across country, and then he bounds in all helpful-boy-scout, says his wife Annie forbids the banns, and offers us Florence Duke instead. What do you make of it?”

She was knitting steadily.

“What do you make of it yourself?”

“What I said to Crisp. I think the bright idea was to frame John Higgins, shift the interest away from the Catherine-Wheel-I believe that’s fundamental-make a crime passionel of the murder. And Annie Castell wouldn’t stand for it-cut up rough-maybe threatened to spill the beans. She may, or may not, have any to spill, but if she has, I think she’s been threatening to spill them if Castell doesn’t lay off John Higgins. He’s her own nephew, and she may be fond of Eily.”

Miss Silver inclined her head.

“I think so.”

“The bit about Eily, or the whole lot?”

“I think the whole of it. But the scene described by Castell could not have occurred as he described it. There was not time for all that story about Luke White’s marriage to have been discussed by him and his wife in the interval between his leaving this room and returning to it, especially if Mrs. Castell was in the state of distress upon which he insists.”

Frank said, “Yes-I agree. They had probably had a series of scenes about Higgins. When he came away from seeing us she presented an ultimatum-if he didn’t stop framing John, beans would be spilled. Castell got the wind up, came to terms, and bounded in to offer Florence Duke instead. What do you think about her?”

She coughed in a meditative manner.

“She had certainly had a shock.”

“Do you mean before the murder?”