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bones for him. There it was, and they could take it or leave it. If that old fool, Hamworthy, hadn’t got in his way, he’d have laid hands on the murderer all right – if Hamworthy was a fool, which he doubted. Blood? Yes, there was blood on his coat. He had got that in struggling with Hamworthy at the window. Hamworthy’s hands had been all over blood when he made his appearance in the library. No doubt he had got it from the corpse. He, Payne, had taken care not to change his clothes, because, if he had done so, somebody would have tried to make out that he was hiding something. Actually, he had not been home, or asked to go home, since the murder. Mr Payne added that he objected strongly to the attitude taken up by the local police, who had treated him with undisguised hostility. To which Inspector Henley replied that Mr Payne was quite mistaken.
        ‘Mr Payne,’ said Lord Peter, ‘will you tell me one thing? When you heard the commotion in the dining-room, and the cook screaming, and so on, why didn’t you go in at once to find out what was the matter?’
        ‘Why?’ retorted Mr Payne. ‘Because I never heard anything of the sort, that’s why. The first thing I knew about it was seeing the butler-fellow standing there in the doorway, waving his bloody hands about and gibbering.’
        ‘Ah!’ said Wimsey. ‘I thought it was a good, solid door. Shall we ask the lady to go in and scream for us now, with the dining-room window open?’
        The Inspector departed on this errand, while the rest of the company waited anxiously to count the screams. Nothing happened, however, till Henley put his head in and asked, what about it?
        ‘Nothing,’ said Parker.
        ‘It’s a well-built house,’ said Wimsey. ‘I suppose any sound coming through the window would be muffled by the conservatory. Well, Mr Payne, if you didn’t hear the screams it’s not surprising that you didn’t hear the murderer. Are those all your witnesses, Charles? Because I’ve got to get back to London to see a man about a dog. But I’ll leave you with two suggestions with my blessing. One is, that you should look for a car, which was parked within a quarter of a mile of this house last night, between 7.30 and 8.15; the second is, that you should all come and sit in the dining-room tonight, with the doors and windows shut, and watch the french windows. I’ll give Mr Parker a ring about eight. Oh, and you might lend me the key of the conservatory door. I’ve got a theory about it.’
        The Chief Inspector handed over the key, and his lordship departed.
     
    The party assembled in the dining-room was in no very companionable mood. In fact, all the conversation was supplied by the police, who kept up a chatty exchange of fishing reminiscences, while Mr Payne glowered, the two Grimbolds smoked cigarette after cigarette, and the cook and the butler balanced themselves nervously on the extreme edges of their chairs. It was a relief when the telephone-bell rang.
        Parker glanced at his watch as he got up to answer it. ‘Seven-fifty-seven,’ he observed, and saw the butler pass his handkerchief over his twitching lips. ‘Keep your eye on the windows.’ He went out into the hall.
        ‘Hullo!’ he said.
        ‘Is that Chief-Inspector Parker?’ asked a voice he knew well. ‘This is Lord Peter Wimsey’s man speaking from his lordship’s rooms in London. Would you hold the line a moment? His lordship wishes to speak to you.’
        Parker heard the receiver set down and lifted again. Then Wimsey’s voice came through: ‘Hullo, old man? Have you found that car yet?’
        ‘We’ve heard of a car,’ replied the Chief Inspector cautiously, ‘at a Road-House on the Great North Road, about five minutes’ walk from the house.’
        ‘Was the number ABJ 28?’
        ‘Yes. How did you know?’
        ‘I thought it might be. It was hired from a London garage at five o’clock yesterday