Randal March hadn’t asked him. He said in his pleasant voice, “All the same, you know, Crisp, I think we’d better find him.”

Miss Silver sat in a corner of the lounge, to all appearance quite taken up with her knitting. Not very far away from her Marian Thorpe-Ennington engaged in conversation with Mildred Taverner. Occasional words and phrases were sufficiently audible to make it clear that she was imparting another instalment of that fascinating serial, her life story. Such phrases as, “The very first time he saw me… swore, actually swore, that he would jump out of the aeroplane,” and, most surprising of all, “blood on the diamond wreath, and blood on the floor.”

Mildred Taverner was undoubtedly fascinated. Her Venetian beads clashed against her gold chain as she shuddered, her pale eyes remained fixed upon Lady Marian’s beautiful face, her pale lips parted upon a hardly intermittent “Oh!”

Miss Silver continued to knit in a very thoughtful manner. When the door was presently opened and Frank Abbott looked in she rose, picked up her knitting-bag, and advanced towards him.

“If you can spare the time, I should be glad of a few moments, Inspector.”

He held open the door into Castell’s office.

“I shall be delighted.”

When he had shut it behind them she went across to the window and stood there looking at the room. There did not appear to be very much to look at, and with what there was she must by this time have surely been familiar, yet she continued to gaze in a rather abstracted manner until Frank Abbott said,

“I ought to know by now when you’ve got something up your sleeve. What is it?”

“My dear Frank!”

He returned her reproving glance with a smile.

“Come-out with it!”

She shook her head very slightly, came over to the low chair which she had occupied before, turned it round to the fire, and having seated herself, took up her knitting, observing,

“There is really a good deal that I would like to say, and if you can spare the time I should like to say it now.”

He pulled up another chair and stretched out his feet to the comfortable blaze.

“ ‘Time spared is time saved,’ as the proverb says-and as you know, I am very much at your service.”

Miss Silver’s eyes dwelt upon him indulgently, her voice only mildly critical as she said,

“I do not recall any such proverb.”

“Perhaps not. It’s an impromptu contribution of my own. After all, they have to be started by someone. I dedicate it-without permission-to you.”

“My dear Frank, when will you learn not to talk so much nonsense?”

His hands were deep in his pockets. He looked at her lazily through his fair lashes.

“I don’t know. But I’m finished for now. What did you want to talk to me about?”

Her needles clicked briskly.

“Our own particular connection with this case, and to what extent it is linked with the murder of Luke White.”

“Interesting thesis. Go on.”

She gave a slight cough.

“We came down here to investigate certain vague rumours with regard to the Catherine-Wheel. These involved the possibility that it was being used as a place of call by smugglers, by persons engaged in the illicit drug trade, or by jewel thieves. Chief Inspector Lamb pointed out that this family reunion organized by Mr. Jacob Taverner might be intended to cover some special activity connected with one of these illegal pursuits. As you know, a murder took place during the night following our arrival. It is of course possible, in theory, that the murder has no connection with these illegal practices-in fact they have not yet been proved to exist. The whole matter has advanced very little from its original realm of suspicion and conjecture. In spite of which I must tell you that I am quite unable to dissociate the murder of Luke White from what I may perhaps term our case.”

Frank nodded.

“That means that you reject the case against John Higgins. His motive would be a strictly private one-jealousy over Eily Fogarty.”

She inclined her head.

“It was not John Higgins who murdered Luke White.”

The light eyebrows were raised.

“Sure as all that? All right, exit John. What about Florence Duke? Her motive would be a private one too-unless Crisp digs up evidence to connect her with the dope trade or any of these jewel thefts, in which case she might have fallen out with Luke over a division of the swag.”

Miss Silver gave a hortatory cough.

“My dear Frank, pray recall the undisputed evidence of the position of the body and the position of the wound. If Luke White was killed where he was found, the murderer was immediately behind him on the bottom step. No one has yet supplied any theory which makes this intelligible if Florence Duke is supposed to have committed the murder. On the other hand, if he was not killed where he was found, what possible motive could she have for dragging him there? It could not have been done by one person without making enough noise to run the risk of bringing someone down to investigate. We have been over all this before, and I do not see my way to supporting a case against Florence Duke.”

“Well, what do you support?”

Her needles clicked.

“I have come to certain conclusions. They are these. The murder greatly deepens the suspicions attaching to the inn. Mr. Jacob Taverner’s party, and the circumstances leading up to it also deepen those suspicions. We will come back to this later. I believe that those suspicions are justified, and that the death of Luke White is linked with the circumstances which gave rise to them. It is my opinion that at least two people were engaged in the murder, and that it certainly did not take place in the hall.”

He looked at her keenly.

“Two people?”

“It would have required two people to carry the body to the place where it was found, if this was to be accomplished without risk.”

Frank was regarding her with a slightly quizzical air.

“Is that all?”

“I have reached no definite conclusions beyond these. But I have some observations to offer on the subject of Mr. Jacob Taverner and his party.”

“What are they?”

“These, Frank. I have had opportunities of conversing with several of the Taverner cousins. All of them have been extremely communicative. They are, Captain Jeremy Taverner and Miss Jane Heron-friendly likeable young people-Lady Marian Thorpe-Ennington, and Miss Mildred Taverner. Lady Marian has the habit of talking about herself and can easily be induced to do so. Miss Taverner is nervously apprehensive. She has led a very narrow life, and the murder has alarmed her very much. Her brother represses her. She is frightened of being alone, and has been glad of my company. From these four people I have learned that Mr. Jacob Taverner has made a point of pressing each of them as to what they may have heard about the Catherine-Wheel from their grandparents, with whom there was in each case a rather particularly close association. Looked at in the light of what has since happened, those questions would seem to refer to the existence of some concealed passage from the house to the shore. Miss Taverner gave me the best information on this point. Jane Heron really knew nothing. Captain Taverner said his grandfather had mentioned such a passage, but he had no idea where it was, and so he had told Mr. Jacob. Lady Marian talked a great deal, but I really did not discover that she knew anything. Florence Duke denied any knowledge, but admitted to having been questioned by Mr. Jacob Taverner. She has not been inclined for conversation, but when I put the question to her directly she answered me. I am, however, very strongly of the opinion that she was holding something back. I did not question Mr. Geoffrey Taverner. His manner to me has been discourteous, and I did not think I should gain anything by doing so.”