‘Fastened up?’ Craddock tried it again, gently. ‘You mean it’s nailed up? Or just locked?’
‘Oh, locked, I think, and bolted too.’
He saw the bolt at the top and tried it. The bolt slid back easily—too easily…
‘When was it last open?’ he asked Miss Bunner.
‘Oh, years and years ago, I imagine. It’s never been opened since I’ve been here, I know that.’
‘You don’t know where the key is?’
‘There are a lot of keys in the hall drawer. It’s probably among those.’
Craddock followed her and looked at a rusty assortment of old keys pushed far back in the drawer. He scanned them and selected one that looked different from the rest and went back to the door. The key fitted and turned easily. He pushed and the door slid open noiselessly.
‘Oh, do be careful,’ cried Miss Bunner. ‘There may be something resting against it inside. We never open it.’
‘Don’t you?’ said the Inspector.
His face now was grim. He said with emphasis:
‘This door’s been opened quite recently, Miss Bunner. The lock’s been oiled and the hinges.’
She stared at him, her foolish face agape.
‘But who could have done that?’ she asked.
‘That’s what I mean to find out,’ said Craddock grimly. He thought—‘X from outside? No—X was here—in this house—X was in the drawing-room that night…’
Chapter 10
Pip and Emma
I
Miss Blacklock listened to him this time with more attention She was an intelligent woman, as he had known, and she grasped the implications of what he had to tell her.
‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘That does alter things…No one had any right to meddle with that door. Nobody has meddled with it to my knowledge.’
‘You see what it means,’ the Inspector urged. ‘When the lights went out, anybody in this room the other night could have slipped out of that door, come up behind Rudi Scherz and fired at you.’
‘Without being seen or heard or noticed?’
‘Without being seen or heard or noticed. Remember when the lights went out people moved, exclaimed, bumped into each other. And after that all that could be seen was the blinding light of the electric torch.’
Miss Blacklock said slowly, ‘And you believe that one of those people—one of my nice commonplace neighbours—slipped out and tried to murder me? Me? But why? For goodness’ sake, why?’
‘I’ve a feeling that you must know the answer to that question, Miss Blacklock.’
‘But I don’t, Inspector. I can assure you, I don’t.’
‘Well, let’s make a start. Who gets your money if you were to die?’
Miss Blacklock said rather reluctantly:
‘Patrick and Julia. I’ve left the furniture in this house and a small annuity to Bunny. Really, I’ve not much to leave. I had holdings in German and Italian securities which became worthless, and what with taxation, and the lower percentages that are now paid on invested capital, I can assure you I’m not worth murdering—I put most of my money into an annuity about a year ago.’
‘Still, you have some income, Miss Blacklock, and your nephew and niece would come into it.’
‘And so Patrick and Julia would plan to murder me? I simply don’t believe it. They’re not desperately hard up or anything like that.’
‘Do you know that for a fact?’
‘No. I suppose I only know it from what they’ve told me…But I really refuse to suspect them. Some day I might be worth murdering, but not now.’
‘What do you mean by some day you might be worth murdering, Miss Blacklock?’ Inspector Craddock pounced on the statement.
‘Simply that one day—possibly quite soon—I may be a very rich woman.’
‘That sounds interesting. Will you explain?’
‘Certainly. You may not know it, but for more than twenty years I was secretary to and closely associated with Randall Goedler.’
Craddock was interested. Randall Goedler had been a big name in the world of finance. His daring speculations and the rather theatrical publicity with which he surrounded himself had made him a personality not quickly forgotten. He had died, if Craddock remembered rightly, in 1937 or 1938.
‘He’s rather before your time, I expect,’ said Miss Blacklock. ‘But you’ve probably heard of him.’